After school at noon, Yang Haoran quickly wolfed down his lunch in the school cafeteria before rushing home.
Once there, he headed straight up to his room on the second floor. He unplugged a black USB drive from his computer’s port and left the house without a backward glance, making his way to the meeting spot he’d arranged with Zhou Shiwen.
He had prepared the USB drive the night before. Before bed, he’d plugged it in to start copying files and left it running overnight. By now, the transfer was complete.
The rendezvous point wasn’t far from either of their homes—a simply decorated coffee shop.
When Yang Haoran arrived, he spotted Zhou Shiwen already inside, having ordered a cup of hot water. He waved at him.
“Haoran, why’d you make me wait out here? I felt so awkward standing around, so I came inside to sit. But I don’t even like coffee, so I just got hot water. The waitress nearly cracked up when she heard that,” Zhou Shiwen grumbled as he stepped out to meet him.
Yang Haoran gave an awkward laugh. He hadn’t given it much thought; he just passed this coffee shop every day on his way to school, so it seemed convenient.
“Let’s go.”
The two of them set off toward Aunt Shen’s house.
Aunt Shen’s home was located in the Imperial Forest Community, a few hundred meters east along Yan’an Road from the back of Jing’an Neighborhood. It was also nicknamed the Pavilion of Secluded Passions.
The Imperial Forest Community wasn’t as ideally situated as Jing’an Neighborhood, but it had the advantage of being away from the city’s hustle and bustle, with a serene environment. Like Jing’an, it consisted entirely of standalone luxury villas.
The nickname “Pavilion of Secluded Passions” had stuck a few years back after a juicy scandal involving a mistress that became the talk of the town. The culprit was a resident of Jing’an Neighborhood—a wealthy man with a wife and daughter. Frustrated that his wife couldn’t give him a son, he’d bought a place in the Imperial Forest Community to secretly meet various lovers. He’d kept it hidden from his wife for years until one of them bore him a boy and the affair leaked out.
Zhou Shiwen swiped his access card to enter the community, and Yang Haoran followed. Every entrance required a resident’s keycard, which was why Yang Haoran had asked him to wait at the coffee shop.
Aunt Shen had given him a card for the Imperial Forest Community once, but he’d lost it.
They walked side by side into the neighborhood toward Aunt Shen’s place. “Shiwen, is Aunt Shen home?” Yang Haoran asked casually.
He figured she probably was. Unless she had something important going on, Aunt Shen was a total homebody. This was just to confirm.
“She’s home,” Zhou Shiwen replied without a second thought. “Mom’s usually in her study or bedroom. When we get inside, just hang out in my room.”
“Got it.”
Yang Haoran nodded. They both knew the drill without needing to spell it out. As kids, he’d often come over to Shiwen’s room to play games. They could just say that’s what they were doing.
They arrived, and Zhou Shiwen swiped his card on the sensor to unlock the door. Yang Haoran followed him inside.
Yang Haoran glanced around the spacious, brightly lit living room. In the center sat a high-end guest sofa and coffee table. Along one wall stood a liquor cabinet, refrigerator, potted plants, and more. On the other side was an antique shelf displaying a dazzling array of porcelain and curios—all part of Aunt Shen’s collection.
“Shiwen, you’re back.”
Shen Qing appeared as she descended the stairs, drawn by the sound.
Her gaze immediately fell on Yang Haoran behind him. A flicker of delight passed through her enchanting eyes, and she smiled warmly. “Oh~ Little Ranran, did you miss your sister? You didn’t even call ahead before dropping by.”
She wore a form-fitting, sleeveless halter-neck cheongsam in a blue-and-white porcelain pattern that hugged her alluring S-shaped curves to perfection.
The top strained against her full, bountiful breasts, the fabric bulging as if ready to burst. The surging peaks drew the eye, their lofty swell tracing an exquisite M-shaped contour. With each graceful step she took, her heavy bosom trembled and swayed hypnotically, stirring a mix of anticipation and trepidation that it might spill free and tear the fabric apart.
The cheongsam’s azure fabric clung to her slender waist, slim enough to span with two hands, before blooming into plump, perky peach-like hips. They formed an exaggerated arc from her bee-like waist to her thighs, like a massive, juicy peach or a porcelain-clad hillock, undulating with rocky contours.
The dress slit high on her creamy, voluptuous thighs, the hem barely covering half their length. As she moved, the skirt swayed like gentle waves, rippling with seductive allure that captivated the mind.
Her legs were as flawless as polished white jade—long, plush, and meaty at the thighs, gleaming like pure ivory in the light, utterly perfect.
On her feet were white high heels adorned with countless sparkling silver studs, dazzling to behold.
In this outfit, Aunt Shen exuded elegant poise laced with sensuality, refined yet never tacky.
Shen Qing glided up to them, her watery autumnal eyes fixed on Yang Haoran, shimmering like a starry river aglow with allure. Her plump lips parted slightly, and her mature, sultry voice rang out.
“I was just thinking of having Shiwen invite you over tomorrow to hang out with your sister. But look at you, Little Ranran—great minds think alike. You showed up unannounced, and it touches me so much~”
Her ravishing face, brimming with charm, turned to Yang Haoran with a tender, radiant smile.
Zhou Shiwen stood there with a darkened expression, speechless. But seeing his mother’s unusually intimate demeanor toward Haoran stirred an odd restlessness in him—a strange thrill sprouting from deep within.
Yang Haoran’s gaze lingered on the bewitching Aunt Shen, a heat stirring in his lower abdomen. With Shiwen right there, though, he didn’t dare play along. He gave an awkward smile. “Aunt Shen, don’t tease. Shiwen invited me to play some games with him. It’s been a while, so I was in the mood.”
“Don’t you miss your sister, then? I’ve been pining away for you every day.”
Shen Qing’s coquettish eyes fixed on Yang Haoran with a hint of grievance, like a neglected wife languishing in her chambers.
Drama queen, Yang Haoran thought to himself. He met her feigned melancholy with a perfectly timed smile, saying nothing.
After her customary teasing—which he deftly ignored—Shen Qing backed off with a playful grin. “Alright then, Auntie won’t bother you boys. Go have fun in your room.”
She had always been open-minded about kids playing games, unlike most parents who treated it like poison. That’s why Yang Haoran had come over so often as a child to game with Shiwen.
Seeing his mother keep it surface-level, Zhou Shiwen felt a flash of disappointment in his eyes—mingled with relief. His emotions tangled into a complicated knot.
He’d once assumed his mom was just verbally flirting with Haoran out of habit, nothing more.
That changed when he discovered her erotic novel, Bitch and Master. Then it hit him: her provocations toward Haoran came from the heart, cloaked in jest.
