Yang Haoran understood Wei Ming’s meaning and said nonchalantly, “Why care about others? We were born into this world, and in the end, we will leave it. The stares and gossip from others are nothing more than bees flying by the roadside. They might be noisy, but what does that have to do with us?”
This speech from Haorzi made Wei Ming give a thumbs-up, and he said with emotion, “I thought we were both academic failures, but it turns out there’s a world of difference even among failures. Your level of thinking is really high—I hadn’t noticed it before, Haorzi. You’ve got some skills.”
At the same time, he felt motivated by these words, and a certain idea inside him seemed to stir restlessly.
However, he still believed that, at this point, their conversation was merely theoretical. Ideas were just ideas, and bound by societal taboos, how many people would dare to act on them?
Hearing Wei Ming’s praise, Yang Haoran wasn’t the least bit happy. Instead, he rolled his eyes at him. This passage of his came from Aunt Shen’s novel, Bitch and Master, where the female protagonist persuades the male protagonist to bring his mother into the fold, using these words to dispel his inner reservations.
He had merely borrowed and flaunted it a little. Even as an academic failure, he had been deeply stirred and impressed when he first read that passage.
“Your mom…” Yang Haoran corrected himself, “Aunt He has been single all along, right? Besides, I can tell she values you deeply as her son. You know, back then, to make sure we got along well, she even took me out to dinner alone.”
Wei Ming couldn’t help asking, “Really? How come I didn’t know about that?”
“Duh, why would Aunt He tell you about something like that?” Yang Haoran was somewhat exasperated. Did he never use his brain? All that size for nothing.
When Aunt He had taken him out to dinner alone back then, she had specifically explained Wei Ming’s family background.
From Aunt He’s own words, he had learned about Wei Ming’s family situation. Wei Ming’s mother, He Muchen, had divorced her husband when Wei Ming was still young. That meant Wei Ming had grown up in a single-parent household—no wonder he had developed an Oedipus complex as he got older. Ultimately, it stemmed from a lack of security in childhood and an attachment to his mother.
Truth be told, he wasn’t all that different. When he was young, his mother had been busy with company matters and rarely spent time with him and his sister.
Before the two could continue their conversation, the class bell rang, forcing them to temporarily drop the subject.
In the end, the topic remained at the theoretical stage. However, what happened later took both of them completely by surprise.
This period was history class. The teacher, a middle-aged man with a receding hairline, spoke with fervor, his face flushed red with excitement, as if on the verge of climax. It seemed that even if the students weren’t captivated by the history he was recounting, he himself was already thoroughly immersed.
He didn’t know what others thought, but Yang Haoran was practically dozing off. It wasn’t until halfway through the class that he realized he had forgotten something.
Only when he felt the small box in his pants pocket did it dawn on him—his mother had asked him to drink a supplement before class. After a moment’s thought, since class was already in session, he decided to wait until the next break.
The two girls walked to a secluded corner of the school, near a lush, grassy lawn, and sat down on a bench to chat. Both intending to build a good relationship, the atmosphere was naturally relaxed and pleasant. They transitioned from class-related topics to talking about themselves, sharing interests and hobbies. What started as somewhat reserved and distant gradually turned into laughter and cheerful conversation, punctuated by bursts of joyous giggles.
The brief exchange greatly increased their mutual fondness. By the time the class bell rang, Yang Mengyao even felt a sense of reluctance. She hadn’t expected that Xiao Shaowan would be so easy to get along with—nothing like the aloof, detached demeanor she displayed in class. Instead, she gave off a refreshing, soothing vibe.
This made Yang Mengyao let down her guard and prejudices against Xiao Shaowan, and the conversation grew even more relaxed and comfortable.
Afterward, she felt that if Xiao Shaowan were to also become her brother’s woman, it might not be something she couldn’t accept.
Throughout their exchange, Xiao Shaowan had played the role of both listener and conversation starter. While it seemed as though Yang Mengyao was leading the discussion, the rhythm was actually under Xiao Shaowan’s control all along.
During their conversation, she had been surprised more than once. Yang Mengyao gave her the impression of an innocent, simple-minded girl who knew little of the world and had no cunning schemes. Yet, she didn’t fully believe it. She probed and tested with indirect examples, only to find that Yang Mengyao genuinely had no knowledge of those depraved training practices. Instead, she found the topics humorous and amusing, completely unaware of the insinuations and true meanings behind them.
Along the way, Xiao Shaowan felt a sense of envy toward Yang Mengyao’s innocence, as if seeing a reflection of her former self. At the same time, she felt a pang of pity for this youthful-looking, buxom girl. Because once the Master set his sights on her, her fate would undoubtedly be the same as hers: becoming the Master’s livestock plaything, eventually collared and chained, locked in a cage alongside her as the Master’s private fucktoy.