After some thought, Zhaoran decided to send a message to Zhaoping, informing him that Stepmom had caught a cold and suggesting that he come home early if he didn’t have anything urgent.
However, the reply came quickly and was brief: “It’s just a cold. Tell her to take some cold medicine. My friends are still waiting for me; I can’t come back now.”
Zhaoping had always been like this, constantly prioritizing his friends. Who knew what kind of bonds he shared with them that he wouldn’t even care about his own wife?
Feeling irritated, Zhaoran couldn’t be bothered with him any longer. He ate his noodles, spent some time surfing the internet, and by the time the congee in the rice cooker was ready, he noticed it was almost ten o’clock. He ladled out the congee and went into the bedroom to wake Stepmom.
Zhaoran turned on the bedroom light. Stepmom had kicked off the blanket a little, one foot exposed outside the covers. He approached and called out to her softly. When she didn’t respond, he patted her arm, but she still didn’t wake up.
He shook her again, but Stepmom was deep asleep. It occurred to Zhaoran that the cold medicine might be the cause. Unsure of what to do, he shook her several more times, but she remained sound asleep. The blanket slipped down further, revealing Stepmom’s slender, voluptuous body in its entirety before Zhaoran’s eyes.
She was wearing a dark blue nightgown that fell past her knees, exposing a section of her snow-white calf. As she never wore a bra to bed, her full breasts lay spread beneath the nightgown, the two most enticing points seemingly visible through the fabric.
Zhaoran swallowed hard silently. The sleeping beauty before him, with her most alluring body on display, made it impossible for him to remain calm.
He tried again, placing his hand on her smooth, lotus-like arm exposed outside the nightgown, and shook her firmly. But Stepmom didn’t respond at all; instead, her long legs rubbed together slightly on the bed before she turned her body over.
Zhaoran froze, not daring to move his hand. After a while, Stepmom still showed no signs of waking, her breathing even and steady.
As if emboldened, Zhaoran tried once more, resting his hand on Stepmom’s shoulder and shaking her vigorously several times. But she only subconsciously tried to brush his hand away in her sleep, without actually waking up.
This, he thought, must be what they meant by “lust emboldening the heart.” Zhaoran’s hand began to stray, slowly moving downward from her shoulder, following the line of her arm, until it came to rest on her waist. There wasn’t an ounce of excess fat; her skin was firm and taut.
His palm was sweating the entire time, terrified that Stepmom might suddenly wake up. If that happened, there would be no way he could explain himself.
After all, these past few days, their interactions had been like those of a normal mother and son.
Fortunately, Stepmom remained asleep, undisturbed by his actions.
In Zhou Yun’s eyes, Zhaoran had always been a good boy. While his grades might not have been outstanding, he was far from a poor student. Having lost his biological mother at a young age and with Zhaoping paying little attention to his upbringing, his character had been largely shaped by his stepmother. He was generally amiable and conducted himself with grace.
However, ever since entering puberty, Zhaoran had gradually developed a curiosity about the opposite sex’s body. He longed to experience a hint of pleasure from a woman’s form, and this mindset seemed to awaken a seed that had long been buried in his heart.
Moreover, the endless array of novel things he encountered online only fueled Zhaoran’s curiosity further.