“Alright.”
Seeing Aunt Shen agree to the self-designation “Shen Bitch,” Yang Haoran pressed his advantage, other thoughts stirring in his mind. He and she had once discussed lewd tattoos over WeChat, and now he was eager to make it a reality. He wanted to etch his mark onto Aunt Shen’s body, binding her to him forever as his exclusive possession—his personal bitch—before she slipped from his control someday.
Aunt Shen’s nature was so wantonly lascivious; without a leash to hold her, what man could rest easy? He was only a high school boy, after all. True, proximity had given him the first taste of her sweetness, but women’s hearts could shift in an instant. That was precisely why he aimed to train his woman into a Bitch—after all, a dog was unwaveringly loyal to its master.
“Shen… Aunt.”
Yang Haoran had nearly blurted out “Shen Bitch,” but it was their first time, and the words caught awkwardly in his throat. He quickly fell back on her old title; he wasn’t accustomed to the new one yet.
Shen Qing watched the boy’s bashful posture, a rare spark of mischief dancing in her eyes.
“Aunt Shen, about those… lewd tattoos—what do you think?”
Even Yang Haoran cringed as he said it. So blunt, only to follow up with “what do you think?” It was absurd.
Shen Qing, ever perceptive, shot him a knowing half-smile. “If you want it, Aunt has no objections—as long as it’s not somewhere conspicuous.”
Yang Haoran lit up with joy. “As long as we can do it, that’s perfect. Why put it where others can see? The tattoo’s just for us.”
He wholeheartedly agreed with Aunt Shen. Tattoos were an intimate affair, lewd ones especially. Besides, he preferred her to remain that breathtaking vision of elegance and refined beauty in the eyes of the world—a noblewoman through and through.
“So, Little Ranran, where do you want to put it on Aunt?”
Shen Qing, catching his enthusiasm, played along with a teasing question.
Yang Haoran mulled it over. Pinpointing the exact spot proved tricky; he couldn’t decide on the spot. “We’ll figure that out later, Aunt Shen. Do you know any tattoo artists? Ideally a woman.”
“Let Aunt think for a moment.”
Shen Qing paused briefly. “There’s one. Her skills are top-notch—her family has generations of tattoo masters, though she ended up switching careers to become a doctor.”
“Does she still do tattoos?” Yang Haoran wondered aloud. If she’d gone into medicine…
“We can ask when the time comes. Aunt isn’t entirely sure.”
She glanced at him, noting his skeptical expression, and smiled. “Relax, Aunt will get all the details. It’s going on Aunt, not you. If she’s not up to it, I’ll find someone else.”
With Aunt Shen putting it that way, Yang Haoran realized she probably cared even more about the artist’s skill than he did. She’d surely seek out only the best.
Of course, artists like that didn’t come cheap—a single piece could run tens of thousands, even over a hundred grand—but that was pocket change to a wealthy woman like Aunt Shen.
“And what about the nipple rings? Does Little Ranran want to put them on Aunt?” Shen Qing asked with a playful smile.
“Later… we’ll talk about it later.”
Yang Haoran shook his head vigorously. Nipple rings were thrilling in theory, but he hadn’t committed to the idea. They sounded brutal at first, but really they were more symbolic—a form of adornment. Still, plenty of women couldn’t stomach them.
After leaving Aunt Shen’s place, Yang Haoran swung by home for a quick nap before heading to school. The afternoon classes dragged on in dull monotony, vanishing in the blink of an eye.
When school let out, Zhou Shiwen returned the USB drive. Yang Haoran wasn’t in any rush for it. Videos had lost their pull now that he was deep into hands-on practice; if anything, they served more as inspiration.
Back home during dinner, he kept stealing furtive glances at his mother. That strange look in his eyes left Liu Ruoxi seething with irritation, her whole body tense with discomfort. She laid into him sharply, only relenting when he shrank back meekly.
Yang Mengyao picked up on the tension between her mother and brother, sensing something amiss—but she shied away from the forbidden implications.
Yang Wenfu, far from his usual stoic calm, seemed downright cheerful. Observing the mother-son exchange only solidified his suspicions, warming him with a true sense of family—not the detached outsider feeling he’d carried before.
Meanwhile, at the Imperial Forest Community in Aunt Shen’s villa, the evening lights glowed warmly. After dinner with her son Shiwen, Shen Qing called out as he headed to his room.
“Shiwen, come here a moment. Mom wants to talk about something.”
Zhou Shiwen looked puzzled but didn’t question it, pulling up a chair across the table from her.
“Mom, what is it? I still need to study later.”
It wasn’t studying on his mind, of course. He was itching to dive back into the remaining green mother videos—but he sure wasn’t admitting that.
“Mom and your dad split up when you were just a kid. All these years, Mom’s stayed single out of consideration for you, never pursuing anyone else. But now you’re almost grown.”
Shen Qing let out a soft sigh, her words hanging unfinished in the air.
Zhou Shiwen wasn’t dense; he caught her drift right away. He hesitated, then nodded candidly. “Yeah, I get it. If you want to find someone, Mom, I won’t stand in your way. Just bring him around for me to meet—I’ll give him the once-over.”
What would come would come—rain or marriage. He understood her sacrifices. She might not have been the most affectionate mother, but she’d never stinted on food, clothes, shelter, or anything else.
Still, the sudden notion of her seeking a partner felt off to him, though he pushed the thought aside.
“You? Vetting someone for Mom, you little imp?” Shen Qing let out a throaty laugh, her charm radiating effortlessly. “No real issues otherwise. Mom’s already found someone. He pursued me, and I like him a lot—but he’s rather young. I’m worried you might not take to him. What do you think?”
“Young?” Zhou Shiwen’s brows furrowed, Yang Haoran’s face flashing in his mind, though he hesitated to confirm. “How young?”
“Well… about your age. He’s just started his first year of high school.”
Shen Qing feigned a troubled frown, as if chiding herself for falling for someone so youthful.
“What? No, absolutely not.”
Zhou Shiwen shot it down immediately. A peer as his stepdad? It was ridiculous—no one could swallow that.
He was now ninety percent sure it was Haoran. But when had things progressed that far between his mom and Haoran?
“Sigh… Mom really likes him, Shiwen. I just wanted your blessing. If you disapprove, then Mom will have to end it.”
Shen Qing’s alluring, foxlike features clouded with worry as she sighed dramatically.
Seeing his mother’s low spirits tugged at Zhou Shiwen’s heart. Was he being too selfish? She’d gone without a partner all these years for his sake. Now that he was nearly an adult, should he really stand in the way of her happiness?
