In the latter half of the night, drifting between dreams and wakefulness, Zhao Ran seemed to hear Zhao Ping’s voice coming from outside. When he tried to rouse himself, his eyelids felt heavy and fought against him, and soon he was asleep again.
He didn’t know how much time had passed when Zhao Ran suddenly felt the bed shaking and woke once more. He saw that his stepmother had, for some reason, come onto his bed and was sitting with her back to him.
By the moonlight streaming through the window, Zhao Ran watched as she adjusted her nightgown.
“Stepmom? What’s wrong?” Zhao Ran rubbed his eyes and asked, his voice drowsy.
Hearing him, his stepmother turned around. Her voice was soft as she said, “Did I wake you? Let’s make do together tonight. I washed the bedding in the guest room, and there wasn’t time to make it up. Your father came home dead drunk, and I didn’t want to sleep next to him.”
Zhao Ran made a sound of acknowledgment and shifted further toward the wall. Since his bed wasn’t very large to begin with, no matter how much he moved, he couldn’t avoid some physical contact with her.
His stepmother brought her own quilt, placed her pillow next to Zhao Ran’s, and lay down.
At this point, Zhao Ran’s heart was itching with restless excitement. Looking at his stepmother less than ten centimeters away, he knew that if he moved forward even a little, his body would touch hers.
All sleepiness left him. His stepmother lay facing away from him in her nightgown, her body rising and falling gently with each breath.
His mind began to wander into fantasy, and he quietly shifted his body forward slightly, but he still couldn’t quite reach her.
Sensing his movement, his stepmother suddenly turned over. Her beautiful eyes, calm as water under the moonlight, gazed softly at him. “What’s wrong? Is the bed too narrow?”
Zhao Ran was caught off guard and hurriedly said, “No, it’s just… it’s been a long time since we last slept together. I’m kind of happy.”
Amusement sparkled in her eyes as she asked with a light laugh, “Happy? Why happy?”
Zhao Ran didn’t dare meet her gaze. “I’m happy that you’re sleeping with me again. It reminds me of when I was little, when my mother would tell me stories to help me sleep.”
His words were half-truthful. He was happy, that was real, and he truly was thinking of his deceased mother.
But what excited him most right now was being able to sleep beside his stepmother again, to feel her softness.
Her voice was tender. “Silly child, you have to tutor your cousin tomorrow. Go to sleep now.”
As she said this, she gently pulled the quilt up higher for him. But this action inadvertently brought her body closer to his.
Zhao Ran seemed to catch the scent of her natural fragrance. Seizing the opportunity, he adjusted the quilt as well, and now they were separated only by a thin layer of bedding.
Zhao Ran wasn’t entirely sure whether his stepmother and Zhao Ping had argued again. In the past, even when Zhao Ping came home drunk, she never came to sleep with Zhao Ran—she would always send Zhao Ping to the living room instead. Although Zhao Ran was very fond of his stepmother, he didn’t actually want her and Zhao Ping to divorce.
The way his stepmother looked at him was gentle, just like when he was a child, filling him with warmth. Her face, free of makeup, carried a unique tenderness.
“Stepmom, you’re really beautiful,” Zhao Ran said sincerely, gazing at her face.