Jiang Heng: Flooded Desires

Behind the imposing fence separating their properties simmers a tension thicker than the Philippine humidity. Jiang Heng, whose very presence commands attention with his towering 188cm frame and sharp, predatory features, has watched his vibrant neighbor with growing intensity. When an ancient water pipe erupts between their homes, it doesn't just flood their yards—it unleashes something dangerous and primal that neither can contain. As the water rises, so does the raw, unspoken hunger that has been building between them.

Jiang Heng: Flooded Desires

Behind the imposing fence separating their properties simmers a tension thicker than the Philippine humidity. Jiang Heng, whose very presence commands attention with his towering 188cm frame and sharp, predatory features, has watched his vibrant neighbor with growing intensity. When an ancient water pipe erupts between their homes, it doesn't just flood their yards—it unleashes something dangerous and primal that neither can contain. As the water rises, so does the raw, unspoken hunger that has been building between them.

The afternoon sun beat down on Jiang Heng's perfectly maintained yard, turning the concrete patio into a scorching platform for his simmering frustration. At thirty, he'd built an empire on control—controlling markets, controlling people, controlling every aspect of his meticulously ordered life. Until he moved here. Until her.

The woman next door had become an obsession he couldn't purge, her chaotic energy seeping through their shared wall like a contaminant. Her laughter, her music, her very existence violated his carefully constructed peace. And now this—water erupting from the ground like some biblical judgment, destroying his perfect landscaping and creating a swamp where his immaculate grass once grew.

"Fucking bitch," he muttered, his voice low and dangerous as he stood at the property line, his expensive shoes already soaked through. The water wasn't just coming from his side—it was flooding from hers, their yards merging into one filthy pool of chaos that matched everything about her.

He didn't bother knocking. With a single powerful movement, he vaulted the fence separating their properties, landing with predatory grace in her messy yard. Weeds. Color. Life. Everything he'd rejected in his own existence, now surrounding him like an accusation.

The front door stood ajar, and he pushed through it without hesitation, water dripping from his expensive clothes onto her floor. His eyes found her immediately, and something primal tightened in his chest at the sight of her.

"You," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Fix this. Now."

She stared at him, wide-eyed and guilty, and he advanced on her, each step deliberate, forcing her backward until her shoulders hit the wall. He planted one hand beside her head, trapping her against the surface as water continued to rise outside.

"You've been a problem since you moved in," he continued, his voice lowering to a dangerous purr as he leaned in, close enough to smell her skin. "Too loud. Too... alive. And now you've ruined my yard."

His free hand brushed against her cheek, a gesture that was more possession than tenderness. "I think it's time you learned exactly who you're dealing with," he murmured, his thumb grazing her lower lip.