Several dozen seconds passed, and Yang Haoran still couldn’t come up with an excuse. The only thing that became more apparent was the cold sweat on his forehead.
Liu Ruoxi could see her son’s guilt, but this time she didn’t rush him. She gave him ample time to think, sticking to her word of one minute.
The atmosphere between mother and son wasๅตไฝ (frozen/stiff) for a moment.
Over thirty seconds had passed. Yang Haoran was so anxious he was scratching his ears and cheeks (idiom: extremely anxious), his hands and feet feeling icy cold. He looked up at his mother and began to speak haltingly: “Mom, there… there’s a… saying… that… even a vicious tiger… does not eat its cubs…”
Hearing her son stammer for ages only to squeeze out this proverb about tigers not eating their cubs, Liu Ruoxi nearly laughed in anger. She thought he might spout some bullshit reasoning, but it turned out to be nothing but bullshit.
Noticing the corners of his mother’s mouth twitch slightly upwards before quickly being pressed together again, Yang Haoran felt a wave of relief inside. Only a fool would try to reason with an enraged woman, let alone one who was his mother and already furious.
Not waiting for his mother to speak, Yang Haoran struck while the iron was hot: “Mom, ever since I was little, I’ve been so proud to have a beautiful and gentle mother like you. Other kids, even though they had their parents drop them off and pick them up from school every day, I never envied them for a single day.”
“Because I knew, Mom, your love for me was never less than what other kids received. You were just too busy back then. Even though we could only see each other once a week, even now, I vaguely remember the gentle smile on your face when we met. It warmed my heart constantly throughout the following week…”
The one-minute time limit had passed. Yang Haoran’s “explanation” clearly exceeded a minute, yet Liu Ruoxi still didn’t interrupt her son. On the contrary, under Yang Haoran’s slightly trembling narration, the frost on Liu Ruoxi’s icy cheeks melted rapidly like snow under the early spring sun. The rising and falling of her chest gradually calmed and steadied. Her gaze towards Yang Haoran, while still sharp, had lost its edge.
Two minutes later, Yang Haoran finished speaking and looked at his mother pitifully. Facing her son’s gaze, Liu Ruoxi fell silent.
Was Yang Haoran really explaining?
His entire spiel was more like playing dumb and acting foolish, dragging out long-winded, unrelated stories about his childhood. However, if he had really tried to craft a clever, eloquent excuse, he would have thought of one earlier.
This was just like when a couple argues and the woman gets angry. A straight guy would try to reason with her, while a scoundrel would agree with her while sweet-talking andๅ็ (coaxing/pampering) her.
Yang Haoran knew deeply that he and his mother weren’t a couple; they were mother and son. The current situation wasn’t an unreasonable woman, but him, who was in the wrong. But that didn’t prevent him from applying the same tactics, switching to playing the family card. Wasn’t this, in its own way, the same kind of “sweet talk”?
Liu Ruoxi was silent for a moment, then her vermilion lips parted slightly: “Your explanation works this time. Next time, what will you do then?”
Yang Haoran’s expression changed instantly, shifting from pitiful to beaming with joy. Liu Ruoxi immediately glared at him, and Yang Haoran promptly wiped the smile off his face.
He understood his mother’s meaning. This time, he could be considered to have passed, but next time, if he still couldn’t control his urges, if he still wanted to่ๅพ (abuse/mistreat) his mother’s nipples, how would he face his angry mother after finishing and feeling good?
It seemed like an unsolvable problem, but wasn’t it, in reality, a form of training? (่ฐๆ – training, often with a connotation of discipline or conditioning)
The first blow is the hardest, the second weaker, the third exhausts (idiom: momentum drains after repeated attempts). What if humans are ultimately adaptive creatures?
Afterwards, the mother and son went to the hot spring pool to soak for a while and relax their bodies,้กบไพฟ (conveniently) washing away the traces of their intense earlier encounter.
Yang Haoran felt somewhat้้ท (depressed/glum). Although his mother wasn’t making an issue of it anymore, her attitude was clearly not as friendly as when they first arrived. She made him stay by himself on the west side of the hot spring pool and told him not to bother her. Liu Ruoxi went to the east side to wash herself.
The warm ocean hot spring็กฎๅฎ (indeed) helped relieve fatigue. Yang Haoran soaked for a while; his pores dilated, his whole body felt comfortable, and his tired body regained its energy. He gazed longingly at his mother on the other side.
Liu Ruoxi had already finished washing and had put her bathrobe back on. Seeing her son’s blatant, desiring gaze, she knew he wanted it again. She walked towards her son, and under Yang Haoran’s excited gaze, she passed right by him, stepped onto the stairs, andๆทกๆทก (lightly/calmly) left behind a sentence: “It’s getting late. Let’s go back.”
A fragrant breeze brushed past. Yang Haoran was somewhat disappointed; he thought his mother might have been interested too.
…
The journey back lacked that warm atmosphere from before. For the entire trip, mother and son didn’t exchange a single word. No matter what Yang Haoran said, Liu Ruoxi would at most respond with a faint “Mm” (ๅฏ), her attitude neither cold nor warm.
Yang Haoran finally understood the saying about women being fickle (ๅๅ – changeable/mercurial); one moment east, the next moment west, truly unpredictable.
Of course, Yang Haoran also had a bit of self-awareness (ๅฟ้ไนๆ็นbๆฐ – vulgar slang: has some number/sense in his heart). Seeing that his mother was in a bad mood, he naturally knew to stop while he was ahead.
On the way, the mother and son stopped at a restaurant for dinner.
When they got home, it was almost six o’clock. The sky was gradually darkening. Liu Ruoxi went back to the master bedroom on the second floor. Yang Haoran went to his room and played games for a while.
Feeling that the time was about right, Yang Haoran went to the master bedroom to report his plans to his mother. Unexpectedly, the master bedroom door was locked.
“Who are you trying to keep out…?” Yang Haoran mutteredไธๆปกๅฐ (discontentedly). He had no choice but to knock.
After Liu Ruoxi opened the door, before his mother could even ask, Yang Haoran tactfully spoke up: “Mom, I have a class reunion tonight. I need to go out for a bit. I’ll be back later.”
Hearing this, Liu Ruoxi’s eyebrows furrowed. She stared intently at Yang Haoran for quite a while before speaking coldly: “Time, location, and with whom?”
Three questions in rapid succession. Luckily, Yang Haoran was prepared and answered fluently.
“Come back early!”
“Bang!”
After leaving those words, the master bedroom door was slammed shut. Yang Haoran rubbed his nose, thinking that he would have toๅ (coax/comfort) his mother when he got back.
Nowadays, his mother’s control over him wasn’t as strict as before, as long as he didn’t stay out all night.
Yang Haoran left the residential compound and hailed a DiDi car on the roadside, heading towards his destination.
Through the car window, Yang Haoran witnessed the bustling night scene of City G, like a flowing scroll. Neon lights flickered like scattered stars.
Skyscrapers towered into the clouds, their glass curtain walls reflecting theไบๅฝฉๆๆ (multicolored) neon lights, resembling dreamlike castles. The traffic was heavy and incessant; the lights of the vehicles carved out bright trails in the night sky.
Pedestrians hurried along, some walking, some cycling. Their figures flickered under the neon lights, forming a flowing tableau.
The car stopped by the roadside near a bustling plaza. Right in front was a brightly lit shopping mall. Yang Haoran got out of the car, merged into the crowd, and disappeared.
The mall had six floors. Yang Haoran found the directory, took the elevator to the fifth floor, and walked towards the movie theater area. Most of the people around were couples; someone alone like Yang Haoran was relatively rare.
East of the movie ticket counter was a waiting area. Rows of seats were mostly filled with young couples. At a glance, most of the women were dressed lightly, bright and beautiful, showing off their midriffs and legsโsome plump, some slender, each with different looks. The only thing they had in common was theๆพๆนๆดปๅ (surging vitality) of youth they exuded, like a beautiful sight to behold.
Among the many couples chatting quietly, one high-value couple was particularly eye-catching. The man was handsome with a fit build. He was talking to his girlfriend beside him, a faint smile hanging on hisๅด่ง (corners of his mouth). His external image gave a feeling of้ฃๅบฆ็ฟฉ็ฟฉ (elegant and poised). The woman was beautiful with bright eyes and white teeth (ๆ็ธ็้ฝฟ). Her exquisite features made one’s eyes light up. She wore a white puffed-sleeve blouse and a black pleated skirt. Her delicate, well-proportioned jade-like legs were pressed together, sheathed in a pair of glossy, high-quality black stockings. Herๆฐ่ดจ (aura/ๆฐ่ดจ) was relatively aloof and cool (้ซๅท), like a bright, colorful, andๅคๅงฟ (varied) tulip, attracting covert, frequent glances from the men around.
The girl’s attention didn’t seem to be on her boyfriend beside her. Faced with his attempts at conversation, sheๆท่ก็ (perfunctorily responded). Her beautiful eyes occasionally glanced covertly towards the cinema entrance, as if waiting for someone.
Xu Liang noticed Xiao Shaowan’s absent-mindedness, yet he seemed accustomed to it.
Xiao Shaowan had always maintained this aloof attitude in front of him, which only made him more infatuated, regarding her as a goddess,ๆธดๆๅพๅฐๆธดๆๅฅน (longing to obtain her, longing for herโlikely a typo, meaning ๆธดๆๅพๅฐๅฅน – longing to have her).
Aๅผน็ฌ (ๅผน็ฌ? likely ๆทก็ฌ – faint smile or ่ฎช็ฌ – awkward smile) hung on Xu Liang’sๅด่ง (corners of his mouth), showing he was in a good mood. It was the first time Xiao Shaowan hadไธปๅจ็บฆ (actively asked out) him to see a movie. For a couple, this was clearly a good sign.
Perhaps, tonight he would get his wish.
Seeing that the appointed time was getting closer and there was still no sign of Yang Haoran at the cinema entrance, Xiao Shaowan’s eyebrows furrowed in thought. Was Yang Haoran standing her up, playing her for a fool?
She was somewhat angry. She had spent a whole hour getting dressed up tonight, and now the main person hadn’t shown up? What was the meaning of this?