Knock knock…
Inside the room, Yang Haoran was deep in a WeChat chat with Wei Ming, scheming ways to help him win over Han Lili, when a knock suddenly sounded at the door.
“Could it be Mom?”
Yang Haoran muttered to himself, glancing out the window. A chill of unease crept into his heart.
Sometime without him noticing, a light drizzle had begun to fall outside. The wind howled, and the sky hung dark and heavy.
It felt just like the ominous prelude to a storm—mirroring the anxiety churning in Yang Haoran’s chest.
He had barely cracked open the door when his mother appeared, her face stern and her brows slightly furrowed.
“What are you doing in your room? It took you long enough to answer.”
Seeing her sour expression, Yang Haoran shrank back like a quail, putting on a pitiful, aggrieved look.
“I was just falling asleep, and you woke me up.”
There was a hint of complaint in his words, subtly turning the tables on her. With a chuckle, he rubbed at his half-open eyes, feigning exhaustion.
Liu Ruoxi eyed her son suspiciously. His demeanor didn’t seem fake, and considering the time of night, it wasn’t unusual for him to nap. Her tone softened a bit as she instinctively began, “Then go to bed earl—”
“…It’s raining outside. I came to check if your window was closed.” Liu Ruoxi switched tracks mid-sentence, her expression neutral. She set the water cup she was holding down on the computer desk without a change in her composure and walked over to the window.
Sure enough, the window was open. The fine rain had dampened the curtains nearest it. Liu Ruoxi gently slid it shut and stared out at the pitch-black curtain of rain, lost in a daze.
Unlike before, the moment she had approached her son’s door, a wave of tension had crashed over Liu Ruoxi like the tide. Her heart pounded wildly, as if it might burst from her chest. Even facing her son, her thoughts instinctively recoiled, and the coldness on her face felt like a final act of defiance from someone trapped in prison.
The dark veil of rain offered her soul a fleeting moment of peace, but the task panel that materialized in a blue glow shattered that fragile calm. It was like a firework—brilliant for an instant before plunging into heavy darkness.
【Degenerate Wife, Special Mission!】
Task Sequence 03: Player Liu Ruoxi and the Controller must copulate once, with him ejaculating inside her body.
Countdown: 1 hour 26 minutes.
Liu Ruoxi took a deep breath and turned, naturally beginning to tidy her son’s rumpled bedsheets. She smoothed out the wrinkles with gentle motions, though it felt like she was just stalling for time. Her full, rosy lips pressed together at the corners, as if she wanted to say something but held back. Whatever crossed her mind then, a faint blush crept silently across her fair, exquisite cheeks.
Beside her, Yang Haoran watched his mother carefully straighten the sheets, her movements gentle and practiced—like the perfect wife and mother.
Yet the flush spreading across her cheeks was like ink blooming in water, or a winter plum bursting into bloom.
A subtle, inexplicable ambiguity rippled between mother and son. Liu Ruoxi harbored her secret, while Yang Haoran was stirred by her beauty.
As she bent over to fix the bed, Liu Ruoxi wore a purple dress that hugged her alluring figure like a fleshy hourglass. Her voluptuous body curved dramatically front and back, forming an irresistibly seductive silhouette that lingered in the memory after just one glance.
Beneath the hem of her purple skirt, sheer black stockings revealed glimpses of the snowy white flesh beneath. Her plump, shapely legs were long and elegant, and her raised, perky rear was outlined by the fabric into a full, juicy peach shape—like a feast for the eyes, mouthwatering in its perfection.
This fiery beauty’s every unconscious movement exuded an infinite, soul-stirring allure. Like invisible fingers plucking at a man’s heartstrings, it could ignite his primal desires in an instant.
“Gulp…”
In the quiet room, a sudden swallow echoed from behind her. Liu Ruoxi’s movements froze for a moment, but she pretended not to hear as she gave the sheets one last pat. Rising, she instructed him, “There, now get some sleep soon. And remember to drink the water on the desk.”
She knew better than to say too much. With that casual reminder, Liu Ruoxi turned and left the room.
Back in the master bedroom, she didn’t turn on the light. Instead, she slumped against the door like a deflated balloon, her cheeks burning and her heart racing with heavy thuds. Her ample chest heaved with each breath.
Oh God… Liu Ruoxi, what the hell are you doing?
Planning to drug him and have your way— and the target is your own flesh and blood son!
A torrent of chaotic thoughts flooded her mind. The intense shame crashed against her defenses like endless waves, leaving her limp and weak, her face scorching hot.
She could never have dreamed she’d stoop to such “outrageous” acts.
“When the hell does all this… end…?”
After a long while, a low, dejected murmur echoed in the dark room, laced with confusion, shame, pain, and self-reproach…
Meanwhile, Yang Haoran picked up the cup from the desk, ready to down it in one go. His lips had just touched the warm water when he froze.
He set the cup down and stared suspiciously at the rippling surface, sniffing it. No odd smell.
It wasn’t that he’d noticed anything off—it was a plot twist that came to mind.
In the final volume of Aunt Shen’s Bitch and Master, the protagonist spiked his mother’s water late at night, breaking the taboo mother-son barrier. Under the guidance of a character modeled after “Aunt Shen,” he gradually trained his mother into a Bitch.
What was the hardest step in mother-son incest?
Turning zero into one.
Yang Haoran had once toyed with the idea of drugging his mom but chickened out—youthful lust without the guts to back it up.
Now, recalling the inexplicable blush on her cheeks earlier: she was just bringing water, something she’d done before. Why the flush?
It struck him as odd.
Then there was her sudden change of subject, the dawdling as she fixed the bed—scene after scene replayed in his mind.
Yang Haoran let out a wry chuckle. “Heh… what am I even thinking? Have I gone mad?”
Why would Mom drug him?
Was she going to do something untoward to him?
Nah, it had to be all those dirty stories he’d read warping his mind, making him see perversion everywhere.
Way too ridiculous. If something that good were on offer, he’d beg for it. No need for drugs—Mom just had to crook a finger, and he’d come running like an eager puppy.
Shaking off his doubts, Yang Haoran lifted the cup again but still couldn’t bring himself to drink.
His normal mother would never do something so outrageous.
But what if it was his slut persona mother?
The sudden realization made him swallow hard. He set the cup down, turned off the light, and climbed back into bed.
A dozen seconds later, he got up again and dumped the water from the cup. With a sigh of relief, he lay down once more.
His mind was a mess, sleep impossible, but he forced himself to lie still. He didn’t know what he was hoping for, but if there was even a sliver of a chance for that, he’d wait… wait…
Five minutes passed… Silence outside the door.
Yang Haoran fought his growing irritation, waiting patiently.
Ten minutes… Still nothing.
He started thinking he’d lost his mind from wanting to fuck his mom so bad, conjuring up crazy ideas.
Twenty minutes slipped by in utter quiet. Drowsiness began to overtake him.
Half an hour later, Yang Haoran gave up entirely. Riding that wave of sleepiness, his consciousness began to drift…
More than forty minutes in, faint footsteps echoed from the hallway outside his pitch-black room. They stopped at his door… and went silent.
Yang Haoran was already fast asleep, oblivious.
A minute later, the door creaked open quietly, then shut. The sharp click of the lock engaging cut through the pin-drop silence of the room.
It wasn’t loud, but Yang Haoran hadn’t been deeply asleep. He groggily cracked his eyes open, eyelids heavy. About to close them again, he suddenly realized something. Snapping his eyes shut, he lay motionless, feigning sleep.
His breathing steadied from ragged and quick to calm in seconds, though his body tensed beneath the covers.
Moments later, the room light flicked on. Yang Haoran clearly heard footsteps approaching his bed.
