“Mom… Aunt Shen… How could this be?”
His tightly clenched fist went limp as if it had fallen apart. Black pupils seemed to glisten with tears, and his vacant eyes stared blankly at the ceiling as he muttered to himself in a daze.
At that moment, his phone chimed with a notification.
He glanced at the lit-up screen. Feeling utterly dejected, he had no interest in checking it. Yet, some inexplicable impulse—or perhaps a lingering shred of hope—stirred within him.
All of this was just his unfounded delusion, a pitiful spiral into an illusion that didn’t exist.
He picked up the phone. The screen showed a message from Aunt Shen.
“How is it? Satisfied with the goods? My Master~”
Yang Haoran stared at the message, and it was as if he could see Aunt Shen’s coquettish, smiling face through the screen—a natural seductress, one of those rare, irresistible temptations.
Would any man really abandon a supreme beauty like her? Putting himself in that man’s shoes, Yang Haoran thought he would keep her locked away forever as his forbidden fruit, his prized possession—enough to satisfy him for life.
If there was no such mysterious man, then what was all this about?
He could understand Aunt Shen seducing him, but Mom? She couldn’t be, shouldn’t be that kind of woman.
A deep confusion clouded Yang Haoran’s mind. Perhaps it was the extreme reversal, or maybe having imagined the darkest outcome made the light his only path forward.
“Tell your Master the truth—have you ever acknowledged anyone else as your master before?” He typed out the message, hesitated, then added: “Don’t worry, I don’t mind. I just want to know the details so I’ll know how to train you when we meet in person.”
He didn’t call her Slutty Bitch this time, keeping it formal. The extra line made it seem like he truly didn’t care.
On the other end, Shen Qing read the message but didn’t reply right away. She scrutinized it carefully and saw right through it: Little Ranran’s words meant the opposite—he minded, very much.
But why was Little Ranran suddenly asking this? That was the real question nagging at her.
“I’m a very conservative woman!” After sorting her thoughts, Shen Qing typed and sent the message.
She didn’t say yes or no outright, but her stance was crystal clear.
At this point, affirming or denying it wouldn’t mean much. A firm attitude was far more trustworthy.
Yang Haoran read the reply, and the corner of his mouth twitched despite his low spirits.
Aunt Shen? Conservative?
Would a truly conservative woman show up at his house in those revealing cheongsams, teasing him with every glance?
Still, that simple message pierced through the gloom in his heart like a ray of dawn.
Aunt Shen wasn’t some genuinely promiscuous woman. She only showed her wild side to the objects of her desire. In other words, “I’m a very conservative woman” was the honest truth—or rather, “I’m a conservatively promiscuous woman.” It sounded contradictory, but that was just Aunt Shen’s nature.
If she weren’t a woman, she’d be some wild playboy, Yang Haoran thought.
The response was unexpected yet made perfect sense. Yang Haoran let out a sigh of relief. Clearly, there was no mysterious man—it was all just him overimagining things because he cared too much.
As for Mom, she remained an enigma. Unable to figure it out, Yang Haoran decided to set it aside for now to avoid another round of wild speculation.
He kept up the dirty talk with Aunt Shen. To Mom, he sent a curt “Mm,” and she didn’t reply after that. Satisfied, he dove back into his online fooling around with Aunt Shen.
His emotional rollercoaster—from hell to heaven—left him with a wry thought as he drifted off to sleep…
The next day, Yang Haoran finished breakfast and headed to school.
Today, he was putting his hunting plan for Aunt Shen into action. Though last night’s scare had been a false alarm, it still left him uneasy. He wanted to claim this alluring beauty sooner rather than later.
During the morning break, he chatted idly with Wei Ming. He also kept an eye on his sister Yaoyao and Wan Nu—the two girls were growing closer, gossiping and laughing together during breaks, looking every bit like real besties.
After another class, Yang Haoran pulled Shiwen aside and found a clean patch of grass on campus to sit and talk.
Shiwen had been acting off lately, deliberately keeping his distance. Yang Haoran wanted to get to the bottom of it—and discuss his actual plan.
“Shiwen, you’ve seemed down lately. What’s eating you?”
Yang Haoran chewed on a blade of grass he’d plucked at random, gazing up at the clear blue sky dotted with white clouds as he asked casually.
“Nothing. Why do you say that?” Zhou Shiwen’s face flickered with unease for a moment before he masked it. Yang Haoran didn’t notice.
“You haven’t hung out with me lately. What do you think?” Yang Haoran teased with a laugh.
Zhou Shiwen didn’t know how to respond. He had been avoiding Haoran on purpose these past couple of days, but for reasons he was too embarrassed to admit—something even he considered perverse.
Every time he saw Haoran, that guilty, almost inhuman urge bubbled up uncontrollably.
Seeing Shiwen clam up, Yang Haoran turned and clapped him on the shoulder. “If you don’t wanna talk about it, that’s fine. But bottling it up isn’t healthy. How about this—I’ve got some videos at home, you know, like the ones we watched at my place before.”
“I’ll grab them for you. We can copy them to your computer at your house. Next time you’re feeling down, they’ll help you unwind.” Yang Haoran shot him a knowing guy-to-guy look.
Zhou Shiwen felt both tempted and awkward hearing this. He just didn’t have Haoran’s thick skin.
“No need… I’m fine. Just stressed about school.” He mumbled, his face turning red.
“You’re not a kid anymore, and your grades are great. The textbooks say it’s normal for teens to have surging hormones. If you don’t watch something and let off steam, it could mess with your head long-term.”
Yang Haoran could tell Shiwen wanted them but was too shy to admit it. He coaxed him gently, offering an easy out.
The videos he had were top-tier stuff—actresses with killer bodies and looks, all sorts of genres. Any guy would want a collection like that.
“Alright then…” Zhou Shiwen hesitated but couldn’t resist his inner desires. He shyly agreed.
He’d been a pure kid once, but ever since Haoran dragged him into watching porn—and he’d stumbled on his mom’s secret erotic novels— a whole new world had opened up.
“Great, it’s settled. I’ll grab the USB drive at lunch, then head to your place with you.”
