Stepmom put down the skincare product in her hand, walked over to Zhao Ran, and sat down beside him. Instantly, a fragrant breeze, carrying the scents of skincare products and shower gel, wafted into Zhao Ran’s nostrils.
“Silly child, Zhao Ran and your father were just having a normal conversation. Zhao Ran isn’t angry, and he isn’t either. It’s just that his way of handling things is a bit more aggressive. We weren’t arguing, you know?”
Stepmom’s voice was very gentle, yet it carried a firm strength, like a pair of warm hands caressing Zhao Ran’s heart, making him feel incredibly comforted.
Stepmom had always been this gentle. In Zhao Ran’s memory, he had never seen her argue with anyone. Even when she was clearly in the right and others were being unreasonable, she never made a fuss about it.
Zhao Ran nodded. “His knowledge is no match for yours, so don’t bother arguing with him.”
Stepmom’s eyes held a hint of laughter. “What’s a child like you meddling for? Hurry up and go to sleep.”
With that, she reached out and ruffled Zhao Ran’s hair.
After saying “goodnight,” Zhao Ran returned to his room. Lying in bed, he couldn’t help but wonder why his parents’ attitudes felt so drastically different. He had a lingering feeling that the relationship between them might not be as harmonious as Stepmom claimed.
Stepmom was a teacher, and both her knowledge and temperament were vastly different from Father’s. Father was a businessman, while Stepmom was an intellectual. According to ancient classifications—scholars, farmers, artisans, merchants—the two were worlds apart, like heaven and earth, and shouldn’t have been able to find common ground. Zhao Ran honestly didn’t understand how the two of them had ended up together in the first place. But since they were already married, they must have worked through their differences, and it seemed unlikely they would divorce over minor issues.
Drifting into a hazy sleep, Zhao Ran woke up the next morning to find Zhao Ping already out of the house. Stepmom said she didn’t know where he had gone.
Perhaps because exams were approaching, Stepmom also seemed busier than usual.
“I’ve left prepared dishes in the fridge. You can heat them up for lunch. If you go out to play, make sure to come back early in the evening, understood?” Zhou Yun said while changing her shoes, speaking to Zhao Ran in the tone a mother often uses to instruct her child.
Today, Stepmom was wearing a coffee-colored skirt, a pair of white flat shoes, and a white blouse. Her full, ample breasts were clearly outlined under the fabric, making for a captivating sight.
“Understood,” Zhao Ran nodded, and Stepmom left the house.
Zhao Ran went back to the bathroom to check the small gap he had created the day before. In the daylight, if he looked carefully, he could just barely make out a slight opening. But one would have to examine it very closely, and most people wouldn’t scrutinize an infrequently used window like that.
Zhao Ran felt a growing anticipation about returning in the evening and possibly catching a glimpse of Stepmom bathing.
That night, after finishing his run outside, Zhao Ran returned home to find only Stepmom in the living room, mopping the floor. Zhao Ping was still nowhere to be found.
Zhao Ran couldn’t help but ask, “Stepmom, where is he?”
Stepmom was still wearing her work clothes from when she had gone out earlier. Bent over while mopping, her already full and firm buttocks appeared even tighter under the strain, as if they were about to burst through the fabric of her skirt.
Without looking up, Stepmom replied calmly, “He just went out. Said he was meeting a friend.”
It was clear that before Zhao Ran returned, Zhao Ping and Stepmom had argued again. Although Stepmom’s expression showed no sign of disturbance, she had always been this way—never one to lose her temper.
After Zhao Ran reheated the meal, Stepmom had just finished mopping. She washed her hands and sat down on the sofa, crossing her legs.