Seeing Aunt Shen’s words grow more and more outrageous—even though they rang true—Yang Haoran couldn’t hold it together any longer. He muttered under his breath, “What kind of elder makes a burner account to seduce the youngsters?”
He kept his head down and said it quietly, but he knew Aunt Shen could hear him.
Shiwen was still at home. He couldn’t be too direct, and this wasn’t the moment to lay all the cards on the table. At least he had the evidence now.
Shen Qing acted as if she hadn’t heard a thing. She let out a dramatic sigh, putting on a show of self-reproach. “It’s all my fault. If only I weren’t Little Ranran’s elder… or Shiwen’s mom. But then…”
Suddenly, she leaned in close to his ear. Her intoxicating fragrance enveloped Yang Haoran’s nose, and her warm breath grazed his skin. From those plump, full cherry lips came her lewd whisper, light as a feather: “But doesn’t that make it feel even more thrilling for you, my little master~?”
As she spoke, Shen Qing was like a beautiful and enchanting mandrake flower—or a dangerously lethal serpent. She darted out her fragrant tongue and licked the tip of his ear.
Aunt Shen’s utterly depraved words made Yang Haoran’s eyes go wide. That soft lick on his earlobe sent his body jolting with a shudder.
But that wasn’t even the shocking part. What left him utterly dumbfounded was…
Aunt Shen had just come clean on her own?
The situation had spiraled far beyond his expectations. Yang Haoran’s mind blanked out. Her earlier elder-like poise and tone—who could have guessed she’d suddenly spew such filthy, lewd nonsense? “A-Aunt… Aunt Shen.” Yang Haoran turned to face the bewitchingly seductive Aunt Shen, swallowing hard.
“Your humble servant is here.” Shen Qing’s gorgeous eyes locked onto his without a hint of shame. They were watery and seductive, brimming with tender affection. Her soft, moist voice washed over him like a spring breeze. That demure, obedient tone bore no trace of her previous elder demeanor; she sounded just like an ancient handmaiden attending her lord.
The term “humble servant” dated back to their online roleplay sessions on alt accounts. Sometimes Yang Haoran played the lofty emperor while she was his cherished consort; other times, he was the ancient landowner and she his devoted maidservant.
No matter the scenario, Aunt Shen always chose the lowly, subservient role. Online, Yang Haoran had long since become her true master in every sense.
Now, with this self-reference, she had effectively outed herself. It foreshadowed that in the real world, he was on the verge of becoming her genuine master too.
How could Yang Haoran not feel a surge of excitement? Gazing at Aunt Shen’s submissive posture—her stunningly beautiful face still radiating allure even as she bowed her head—filled him with a profound sense of masculine triumph. This exquisite beauty seemed ripe for the taking right before him. His breathing quickened, blood rushed through his veins, and his face flushed a faint red.
Yet facing an elder he’d known since childhood, acting this way, stirred more than just excitement in him. A thread of unease wove through his thoughts. He wanted to speak, but the casual, flirty banter from WeChat caught in his throat like a fishbone.
Should he call her “Slutty Bitch”? Address her outright as a “lewd meat toilet”? This wasn’t the internet, buffered by a cold phone screen where he could spew obscenities without a care.
In reality, up close with the woman who’d been his elder all his life, he held back. He didn’t dare command her freely.
Seeing Yang Haoran’s hesitant expression, Shen Qing let out a soft chuckle. “What’s the matter? You’re not usually this shy on WeChat. Be bold, my little master~”
She dragged out the last syllable seductively, like a succubus from the depths of hell—soul-stealing, heart-racing, awakening the darkest urges buried deep within.
Her words ignited something in Yang Haoran. His hesitations melted away. Staring at the radiant, captivating Aunt Shen, he tested the waters: “Slu…”
Shen Qing watched him with eager eyes. The perverse thrill of verbal degradation began to stir within her.
“Bang bang! Mom, why’d you lock the door? Let me in!”
Right then, knocking echoed from the door, followed by Zhou Shiwen’s voice ringing in their ears.
Both of them froze.
Yang Haoran’s freshly mustered courage evaporated like it’d been doused with ice water.
“This damn kid—talk about bad timing,” Shen Qing sighed.
“Next time, my little master~” She shot Yang Haoran a flirtatious wink, as if to encourage him, then rose casually as though nothing had happened and went to open the door for her son.
“What a buzzkill…” Yang Haoran fumed inwardly, though a wave of relief washed over him too. He could tell Aunt Shen wasn’t just toying with him this time. She meant it—she truly wanted to become the Bitch beneath him.
Sure, the interruption was a letdown, but she was Shiwen’s mom, after all, and Shiwen had been his best friend since childhood. Turning his buddy’s mom into his personal bitch meant giving the guy some face. A little interruption was no big deal.
“Does this make me Shiwen’s daddy now?” The ridiculous thought popped into Yang Haoran’s head. Sure, Aunt Shen was on board, but Shiwen might not be thrilled about gaining a pint-sized stepdad.
Moments later, Shen Qing led Zhou Shiwen back inside.
Zhou Shiwen sensed nothing off. But the memory of that “green mom” video—where he’d fantasized about his good friend Yang Haoran and his own mother—left him feeling awkward.
After some brief small talk, Yang Haoran and Zhou Shiwen headed back to his room.
“So, how was the video? Told you it wasn’t a scam.” Inside the room, the two sat in front of their screens. Yang Haoran grinned at Zhou Shiwen.
Facing his friend now felt strangely awkward, laced with guilt. He tossed out the topic to fill the air.
Zhou Shiwen’s words dragged his mind back to the video’s obscene scenes. His face heated up again, and he nodded bashfully.
The video quality was impeccable—crisp HD footage of a voluptuous, big-assed bombshell mom getting it on with her son’s classmate. It sent his imagination into overdrive.
He knew such thoughts were wrong, but he couldn’t quite suppress that twisted, exhilarating rush.
“Don’t binge on that stuff too much. It’ll ruin you,” Yang Haoran warned. “You know the old saying: ‘The young buck squanders his seed; the old goat stares at pussy and weeps dry tears.'”
The crude line made the innocent Zhou Shiwen squirm. “Where do you even pick up crap like that? It’s not in any textbook.”
