In the quiet solitude of his room, a young man, XiaoYing, succumbs to his desires. He slowly unbuckles his jeans, revealing his throbbing member. His fingers trace the length, feeling the pulse of blood beneath the skin. He strokes himself leisurely, his gaze locked on the window, lost in his own fantasy. His breath hitches as he picks up the pace, the friction building, his grip tightening. His body tenses, and with a final, shuddering exhale, he finds his release, painting his stomach with warm, sticky evidence of his solo indulgence.