Just as Yang Haoran could no longer contain the fire burning in his heart and prepared to savor the charms of the pure girl before him, a familiar set of footsteps echoed from the corridor outside, drawing nearer.
Click… click… click…
The crisp, resounding taps of high heels striking the floor rang out. While he stood there in a daze, his sister Yang Mengyao reacted first, her face draining of color in sheer panic.
“Bro… it’s Mom.”
Her voice trailed off to a whisper, as if terrified that Liu Ruoxi outside might overhear.
Gazing at his sister—who was stark naked, her face pale with fright—Yang Haoran finally snapped back to reality.
Thump… thump…
His heart pounded furiously, making his chest heave. In that moment, panic gripped him like never before. If Mom walked in and saw this, the grass on his grave next year would be at least ten feet tall.
The intense tension sharpened his mind to an unprecedented clarity. He forced himself to calm down, even as his heart thundered in his chest.
He knew there was no time to get his sister dressed.
“Quick… Yaoyao… hide under the bed.”
Yang Haoran hissed the words urgently, his voice low. His hands flew into action, bundling up her clothes and hurling them under the bed.
Hearing her brother’s voice snapped Yang Mengyao out of her stupor. Ignoring her nudity, she scrambled beneath the bed.
Fortunately, the floor was cleaned regularly and remained fairly spotless.
The moment Yang Mengyao had tucked herself away like an ostrich in hiding, the knocking began.
Knock knock…
Yang Haoran had only been wearing a pair of shorts beforehand. Now, with no time even for underwear, he yanked them on hastily and tossed the underwear under the bed as well. It landed squarely on Yang Mengyao’s face as she crouched there. The potent masculine scent assaulted her senses, wafting into her delicate nostrils. Inhaling her brother’s musky underwear amid her tension brought a faint blush to her cheeks, but she didn’t dare so much as twitch. Every breath filled her with the raw, pungent aroma.
That familiar masculine smell conjured memories of everything that had just transpired, stirring her girlish shame. Her face burned crimson, and even her anxiety ebbed slightly.
…
The door wasn’t locked. After two knocks, Liu Ruoxi pushed it open.
She scanned the room and spotted her son seated primly in the computer chair—unlike his usual slouch—holding a black notebook and appearing engrossed in its contents.
Drawing closer, she confirmed he was indeed studying it with focus. The sight filled her with quiet satisfaction; her efforts hadn’t gone to waste.
She set the fruit plate she carried on the table. Liu Ruoxi kept a mother’s stern demeanor on her face, though her tone softened unusually. “Haoran, how’s the reading going?”
Yang Haoran feigned deep absorption in the book, only now “noticing” his mother’s arrival.
He set the notebook aside with a sigh. “I’ve fallen so far behind. I finished the notebook this afternoon—this is my second read-through. For the parts I didn’t get, I asked Yaoyao. Even after her explanations, some still leave me baffled. I just can’t wrap my head around them. The rest, I think I’ve grasped.”
Yang Haoran avoided overpromising. Setting aside his time toying with his sister, he had studied diligently otherwise. After all, compared to Yaoyao, his longing for his fairy-like mother burned far hotter.
Liu Ruoxi peered straight into her son’s eyes, detecting no deception. She nodded. “As long as you’re willing to study, that’s what matters. I know what’s on your mind. Keep at it, and Mom might consider some of your requests.”
“Really?”
Yang Haoran’s eyes lit up. His gaze locked hungrily onto his mother’s full, voluptuous breasts. Though confined by her white blouse, his thoughts flashed to yesterday’s vision.
Those massive breasts thrust upward, proud and towering like twin mountain peaks straining against a flimsy bustier until it bulged on the verge of tearing. A deep, mesmerizing cleavage plunged like an enchanted abyss, ensnaring the soul.
Two crimson, tender nipples peeked through, tenting the lace bustier with lewd protrusions that hazed enticingly beneath the sheer fabric.
The thought made Yang Haoran swallow hard. Greed flickered openly in his stare at her chest.
At heart, he was a lecher—a total pervert—and he had coveted his otherworldly beauty of a mother ever since his desires had awakened.
Her promise now dangled a glimmer of hope before him, the fulfillment of his deepest, most buried craving.
The turning point had come yesterday. His once-untouchable fairy of a mother had tempted him in slutty lingerie. He still couldn’t fathom why, but from that instant, the dark seed within him had sprouted. Now, her words nourished it like rain, urging it to thrive.
Liu Ruoxi caught her son’s ravenous gaze but betrayed no reaction, as if oblivious. Inwardly, though, she sighed. Without the Fallen Angel Game, she never would have stooped to this.
His searing look made her feel like cornered prey—or rather, the System had cast her as prey, doomed perhaps to be ensnared by the hunter one day, her will no longer her own.
Yet for now, she remained a mother above all.
“Seen enough?”
Her cool voice cut through to Yang Haoran’s ears. He flashed an awkward grin and tore his eyes away with reluctance.
“I’ll quiz you.”
Liu Ruoxi lifted the black notebook, glanced over it, and began firing questions.
Her queries were straightforward—straight from the notebook’s basics. Anyone who’d paid attention could handle them.
She made no effort to stump him, and Yang Haoran rattled off answers with ease.
Ten-odd minutes later, she set the notebook down. She reminded him of school tomorrow, urged him to study hard, and departed.
The door clicked shut behind his mother. Yang Haoran exhaled in profound relief and hurriedly dragged Yaoyao out from under the bed.
Her soft, pink body filled his vision, drawing his heated stare.
“Yaoyao…”
The ten minutes of hiding had cooled Yang Mengyao’s head. Shyness—or some indefinable impulse—now drove her to flee.
She dressed in a frantic rush, brushing off her brother’s pleas, and bolted from the room.
With his sister gone, Yang Haoran let out a sigh and murmured to himself.
“Mom, you’ve ruined me!”
Still, disappointment didn’t linger. Yaoyao’s temperament guaranteed him plenty more opportunities as her big brother—just like today.
