Chapter 4, as she knelt down to hand over the

At six o’clock in the evening in Bincheng, the September sky was not yet completely dark. A thin layer of smog shrouded the western horizon.

The sky was tinged with orange-red, as if someone had spilled a glass of orange juice onto the clouds. The streetlights in the villa area had already turned on automatically.

Warm yellow light spilled from the lampshade, drawing neat circles of light on the cobblestone path.

Gu Xueqing stood in front of the kitchen counter and took the last batch of cookies out of the oven.

The moment the oven door opened, a rich aroma of butter and vanilla wafted out, enveloped in the warmth of the oven.

The heat of the oven caused the stray hairs on her forehead to flutter slightly. Wearing oven mitts, she placed the baking tray on the marble slab.

On the counter, I bent down and took a closer look—the cookies were baked to a beautiful golden brown, with slightly charred edges.

It still has a slight, soft indentation in the middle, which is the state she is most satisfied with.

”Hmm, nice color.” She muttered to herself, took off her gloves, and rubbed the tip of her nose with the back of her hand.

The pork rib soup was still simmering on the stove, bubbling gently, with wisps of steam rising from the cracks in the lid.

White steam rose. She glanced at the wall clock—6:03. Lin Jianguo had said he wouldn’t be back tonight.

Working overtime. Lin Mo is upstairs doing his homework; it’s unclear whether he’s finished or not.

She took a white porcelain plate from the cupboard and arranged the cooled cookies one by one on the plate.

She piled up most of the plate, about fifteen or sixteen pieces. Then she tore off a piece of plastic wrap and sealed the plate.

”Xiao Mo—” she called out, looking up towards the stairs.

There was no response from upstairs.

”Lin Mo!” she raised her voice.

”Huh?” Lin Mo’s voice came down from the second floor, muffled, through the door. “What’s wrong, Mom?”

”Have you finished your homework?”

”Almost there, just one more English reading passage.”

”Okay, you keep writing. I’m going next door to deliver something, I’ll be right back, then we’ll have dinner.”

”Go next door?” Lin Mo’s voice held a hint of doubt. “Isn’t the next door always empty?”

”The new tenants moved in this afternoon, didn’t you hear the moving company truck?” Gu Xueqing said, while untying her hat.

The apron hung on a hook on the wall. “I think only one person came in, but I don’t know what’s going on. Go…”

Say hello, bring some food; a close neighbor is worse than a distant relative.

”Oh.” Lin Mo’s tone revealed the indifference typical of an eighteen-year-old boy towards social activities.

”Then go ahead.”

”The pork rib soup is simmering on the stove, don’t touch it, I’ll come back and turn it off.”

”knew.”

Gu Xueqing picked up the plate of cookies and walked to the dressing mirror in the entryway to look at herself.

The woman in the mirror was wearing the same outfit she wore that afternoon—a creamy white silk blouse, a gray pencil skirt, and dark hair.

Her long, black hair cascaded over her shoulders. The top two buttons of her shirt were undone, revealing a small section of her collarbone and chest.

A little bit of skin. She’s used to wearing it like this at home; she doesn’t button it all the way up because it’s too stuffy that way.

Especially in September, the weather is still a bit hot.

She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should change her clothes. After all, she was going to meet her new neighbors, and first impressions were important. But…

Then I thought, it’s just sending cookies to say hello, not a formal visit, so dressing too formally would seem deliberate.

”Fine, that’s fine.” She stepped onto the wedge sandals that were placed in the entryway—off-white with a pattern on the upper.

A small camellia flower decoration—she pushed open the front door while holding cookies.

The air in the September evening carried a slight chill, mingled with the sweet fragrance of osmanthus blossoms from the flowerbeds in the villa area. She followed…

After walking less than twenty steps along the cobblestone path between the two houses, you arrive at the door of the neighboring villa.

This villa is the same type as the Lin family’s house—a three-story detached house with beige exterior walls and a dark brown solid wood door.

There was a small front yard with a lawn in front of the house. But unlike others, the Lin family’s front yard was very well maintained, with manicured turf.

Neatly trimmed shrubs and a few potted seasonal flowers; however, the front yard of the villa was clearly neglected, with the lawn growing haphazardly.

The flower bed was empty, with only a few unknown weeds growing crookedly in the soil.

A small van belonging to a moving company was parked in front, but the driver and workers had already left. The gate was ajar.

The door was slightly ajar, but a sliver of warm yellow light shone through the crack.

Gu Xueqing pressed the doorbell with her free hand.

Ding-dong—

The doorbell rang briefly inside the house. Then came a series of light, quick footsteps, as if…

Small animals ran across the floor.

The door opened.

Gu Xueqing lowered her head—she had to lower her head because the person who opened the door only reached her chest.

That was a… child.

A boy who looked about twelve or thirteen years old, thin and small, about 1.4 meters tall, was wearing a…

The grey hoodie was clearly several sizes too big; the hem reached mid-thigh, and the sleeves were so long they covered the hands.

A slender fingertip peeked out. Below, she wore black sweatpants, the cuffs bunched up at her ankles, and slippers on her feet.

A pair of blue plastic slippers.

His face was round, with baby fat, fair skin, curved eyebrows, long eyelashes, and a pair of large eyes.

Her eyes sparkled with a watery light. She had a small nose, thin lips, and two shallow dimples at the corners of her mouth. Her hair…

It’s a natural black color, a bit long, with bangs covering half of her forehead, making it look like she hasn’t had a haircut in a long time.

He stood in the doorway, one hand gripping the doorframe, his body slightly shrank behind the door, like a startled animal.

Small animal. His large eyes swept from bottom to top over the woman who had suddenly appeared in front of him—

First came off-white wedge sandals, then her fair and slender ankles, and then a gray bodycon skirt.

Her long, slender legs, then her narrow waist and wide hips outlined by the skirt, and then the creamy white silk blouse beneath…

Two breathtakingly large, almost exaggerated mounds, followed by delicate collarbones and slender swan-like legs.

A slender neck, a slightly upturned chin, cherry blossom pink lips, and amber-colored almond-shaped eyes—

This series of eye movements, from beginning to end, took less than a second.

Then his eyes changed.

No, to be precise, his gaze “switched.” It was like an actor pressing a certain button in front of the camera.

The switch on his penis, the fleeting greed and assessment of a grown man in his pupils, were captured in a fraction of a second…

It was replaced by the timid, slightly curious, and slightly nervous innocence that a twelve-year-old boy should have.

True insight.

The switch was incredibly fast. So fast that even if someone were staring into his eyes, they might not be able to see it.

Capture that fleeting moment.

Gu Xueqing, of course, did not catch it.

What she saw was just a thin, somewhat shy little boy wearing a baggy oversized hoodie.

”Hello.” She bent down, bringing her gaze to his level, and gave him a gentle, warm smile.

A friendly smile. “I live next door, my surname is Gu. You just moved in today, right?”

The boy blinked, pursed his lips, and spoke in a soft voice, with a slightly hoarse quality, as if his voice hadn’t yet broken down.

A slightly high-pitched voice: “Sister… Hello, sister.”

Gu Xueqing was stunned for a moment, then laughed.

”Sister?” She was amused by the address, her eyes crinkling into two pretty smiles. “You call me Auntie.”

That’s fine. I’m almost forty; I don’t deserve to be called “older sister.”

”But…” The boy tilted his head, looking at her earnestly with his big eyes, “You don’t look like…”

You look like an auntie. None of the aunties at our school are as pretty as you.

This statement was made with innocent naivety, without any hint of flattery or ingratiation, just like a child’s.

He is stating a fact as he sees it.

Gu Xueqing’s heart softened.

”You have such a sweet tongue.” She smiled and shook her head. “What’s your name?”

”My name is Wang Bo.” The boy’s voice was still soft, but a little louder than before, as if he were slowly…

Let your guard down. “博” in “博学” (broad learning).

”Wang Bo, a good name.” Gu Xueqing nodded. “How old are you this year?”

”Ten…twelve.” Wang Bo lowered his head and used his fingers, hidden in his sleeve, to scratch the paint on the door frame.

The voice became even softer. “Just started junior high.”

”Twelve years old?” Gu Xueqing frowned slightly. She glanced behind Wang Bo—in the foyer.

Several cardboard boxes were piled up inside, some already opened, others still sealed with tape. The living room light was on, but it was difficult to see…

He saw the shadows of other people. “Where are your parents?”

Wang Bo didn’t answer immediately. His fingers hovered over the door frame, his nails digging into a small patch of peeling paint, his lowered…

He kept his head down and didn’t speak.

The silence lasted for about three seconds.

Then he looked up, forcing a somewhat forced smile: “My parents work in Shenzhen, they…”

…They’re very busy. My dad bought this house, and he said I should move in first, and they’ll move in after they’re done with their work.

Come.”

”You live alone?” Gu Xueqing’s voice was filled with obvious surprise and heartache. “Twelve years old, one…”

Does one person live in such a big house?

Wang Bo nodded, then shook his head, as if he wasn’t sure how to answer either. “Um… my dad…”

He said he would send money regularly, and told me to ask the neighbors for help if I needed anything. He lowered his head again as he said this.

She lowered her head, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible. “But I… I’m hesitant to talk to other people.”

Gu Xueqing felt as if something had clenched her heart tightly.

Twelve years old. Alone. In such a large villa. Parents in Shenzhen.

She is a mother. Her son is eighteen years old, and she feels like she could tie him to her waistband every day.

They were terrified he’d be hungry, cold, or tired. A twelve-year-old child was left to live alone in an empty house—just…

Just thinking about that scene made her eyes well up with tears.

”Have you had dinner?” she asked.

Wang Bo shook his head. “Not yet… I just finished moving my things, I haven’t had time yet. I was thinking of ordering takeout.”

of.”

”Takeout?” Gu Xueqing frowned. “How can a twelve-year-old eat takeout every day?” She paused.

He gestured briefly, then pushed the cookie plate forward. “Here, have some to tide you over. I baked them myself.”

The cookies, buttery flavored, are still warm.

As she spoke, she squatted down.

The movement was natural—Wang Bo is only 1.4 meters tall, but she was nearly 1.73 meters tall wearing wedge sandals.

Standing while handing something to him is too high and inconvenient. Squatting down to look him in the eye is much more approachable.

The moment she squatted down, several things happened simultaneously.

The fabric of the gray pencil skirt stretched even tighter along the curves of her hips and thighs—the squatting position accentuated the muscles of her buttocks.

The flesh was squeezed and stretched, the fabric of the skirt was stretched to its limit, every wrinkle looked as if it had been ironed flat.

Like that, it clung smoothly to her skin, capturing even the subtle variations in the shape, size, and even the curve of her two buttocks.

It was presented faithfully. The skirt had slipped up a bit at the upper thigh, revealing a small section of fair, tender inner thigh skin.

There was a small, light brown mole on her skin, like a sesame seed on white porcelain.

At the same time, she leaned forward, offering the cookie plate with both hands. This forward leaning motion made the milk…

The collar of the white silk shirt was naturally open—not too wide, but enough. The corners of the collar drooped downwards.

The angle formed a V-shaped opening, which, from Wang Bo’s perspective—he was standing, she was crouching—was within his line of sight.

It’s from top to bottom—you can clearly see the scenery inside that V-shaped opening.

Two enormous, almost absurdly full breasts, supported by a light purple lace demi-cup bra, were visible through the shirt.

Under the cover of her bra, a deep, seemingly bottomless cleavage was formed. Her breasts, white and smooth as cream, were supported by the bra and the fabric of her shirt.

Under pressure, they converge towards the center, the two hemispherical surfaces pressed tightly together, the gap between them so narrow that it’s almost impossible to see anything.

Insert a finger. The lace edge of the bra digs into the upper edge of the breast, the soft flesh slightly bulging from the edge of the lace.

It came out like over-fermented dough overflowing from the edge of the mold. In the deepest part of the cleavage, where light couldn’t reach…

In that area, one could vaguely see a small patch of even whiter, almost transparent skin, and the bluish blood vessels beneath it.

Texture.

Wang Bo’s gaze fell on that cleavage.

0.3 seconds.

He controlled the timing with extreme precision. Not 0.1 seconds—that was too short; he needed to be within that zero…

A preliminary assessment of the target’s body must be completed within a few seconds; not even half a second—that’s too long, even one second…

A twelve-year-old boy who has no concept of the opposite sex’s body would find it strange to stare at a woman’s chest for even half a second.

Normally. 0.3 seconds is exactly the natural duration of a “casual glance”—like when you’re walking down the street.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a picture on a roadside billboard; your gaze lingers on that picture for about a minute.

It takes 2 to 0.4 seconds, then automatically moves away. This is a normal reaction of the human visual system and will not cause anyone any distress.

of attention.

In those 0.3 seconds, Wang Bo’s brain acted like a high-speed scanner, processing every single thing he saw.

The details are etched into the hard drive of my memory—the depth of the cleavage (estimated to be over eight centimeters), the texture of the breasts (

The bra is white, plump, and has excellent elasticity. The style and color of the bra are (light purple lace demi-cup, brand unknown).

However, the fabric doesn’t look cheap), and the size of the breasts (a conservative estimate is a G cup, possibly larger).

Then he looked away.

It was moved to the cookie plate.

His face lit up with the sparkle, a hint of something sweet, like a child seeing something delicious.

A greedy expression. Her big eyes were wide open, her lips were slightly parted, and her dimples were faintly visible on her cheeks.

”Is this for me?” His voice held a cautious surprise, as if he couldn’t believe it.

People are so kind to him.

”Of course it’s for you.” Gu Xueqing handed the plate to him. “Here, be careful, it’s hot, it’s fresh out of the oven.”

Not long after.

Wang Bo reached out both hands to catch the plate. His hands were small—or at least appeared small—with long, slender fingers.

His nails were neatly trimmed, and the skin on the back of his hands was fair and smooth, without a single hair. When he took the plate…

My fingertips accidentally brushed against Gu Xueqing’s fingers.

His fingers were cold.

Gu Xueqing noticed this. Although the September evening was slightly chilly, it wasn’t cold enough to freeze one’s hands.

Why are this child’s hands so cold? Is it due to their constitution, or—

”Are you home alone? Is the heating on?” she asked.

”Heating…heating?” Wang Bo tilted his head, looking a little confused. “I don’t know how to turn it on. Moving…”

My uncle left so quickly, I didn’t even have a chance to ask.

”You don’t need to turn on the heating in September, but if you feel cold, you can turn on the air conditioner and raise the temperature a bit.”

Gu Xueqing stood up and glanced into the foyer. “Have you finished moving all your things? Do you need any help?”

tidy?”

”Almost…almost done.” Wang Bo, holding the cookie plate, took a half-step back, as if embarrassed to let her have it.

Seeing the mess in the room, she said, “The boxes aren’t all unpacked yet, but I’ll tidy it up slowly.”

”How long will it take one person to pack all this stuff?” Gu Xueqing sighed.

There was a natural, heartfelt tenderness in his voice, like that of an elder for a younger person. “Your parents are really something, how could they let one…”

A twelve-year-old child moved house by himself.

When she said this, her tone wasn’t accusatory; it was more of a sigh and a sense of pity. But…

Upon hearing this, Wang Bo lowered his head, his eyelashes drooping down to conceal the expression in his eyes.

”They…they’re really busy with work.” His voice trailed off, almost inaudible.

The grievances she expressed: “My dad said he’d come back to be with me once he’s earned enough money.”

Gu Xueqing’s heart softened even more.

Looking at the thin boy in front of her, dressed in a baggy oversized sweater, Lin involuntarily came to mind.

This is what Lin Mo looked like when he was twelve years old—back then, Lin Mo was also thin and short. The first thing he did after getting home from school every day was…

He would run into her arms and call out “Mommy.” She remembered that she would crouch down and hug him, his face buried in the crook of her shoulder.

Inside, her little hands wrapped around her neck; they were soft and warm.

The child in front of me has no mother to run to.

”Wang Bo.” Her voice softened considerably, as if she were speaking to her own child. “Auntie…”

If you live next door, you can come to Auntie’s whenever you need anything—no matter what it is, okay?

?”

Wang Bo looked up, his big eyes sparkling in the warm yellow light of the streetlamp by the door. “Really?”

”

”Really.” Gu Xueqing nodded with a smile. “Your aunt has an older brother who is six years older than you and is in high school.”

That’s it. If you’re ever scared or alone, you can come over to our house for a visit.

”Thank you, Auntie…” Wang Bo’s voice trembled slightly, as if he was moved. He looked down at the gift in his hand.

The cookie tray remained silent for two or three seconds, then looked up again, its expression shifting from aggrieved to cautious.

A smile, tinged with ingratiation. “Auntie, your cookies smell so good! I haven’t had them in ages!”

”Things made inside.”

”Then hurry up and eat, don’t be shy.” Gu Xueqing reached out and gently ruffled his hair—this was…

It was a habitual gesture of hers; she often ruffled Lin Mo’s hair like this, even though Lin Mo was now a head taller than her.

She protests every time her hair is ruffled, saying, “Mom, stop messing with my hair!” but she still can’t break the habit.

When her fingers touched Wang Bo’s hair, she felt that his hair was stiffer than it looked—not small.

It didn’t have the soft, delicate texture of a child’s hair, but rather a slightly rough, adult-like texture. But she didn’t…

Yes. Every child’s hair is different; some have soft hair, some have hard hair, and that’s perfectly normal.

When she ruffled Wang Bo’s hair, he stiffened slightly—very, very slightly, almost imperceptibly.

Almost imperceptible. Then his body relaxed, and a slightly shy smile appeared on his face, revealing deep dimples.

The ground sank in.

”Auntie’s hands are so warm,” he said.

Gu Xueqing felt a warm glow in her heart at those words. “You have such a sweet tongue, child.” She then rubbed her cheek.

She brushed his hair aside, then withdrew her hand. “By the way, what are you planning to do for dinner? Want to come over to my aunt’s? I’ll make some stew…”

”I made pork rib soup, enough for three people.”

Wang Bo’s eyes lit up for a moment, then dimmed again. He shook his head, his voice soft: “No.”

”…No need, Auntie. I don’t want to trouble you. I’ll just order takeout.”

”It’s no trouble at all, just an extra pair of chopsticks,” Gu Xueqing said. But then she saw Wang Bo holding Qu…

Qi Pan seemed to shrink back slightly, then realized it wasn’t good to push too hard—after all, it was their first meeting, and the child might still be…

Not completely letting down their guard. “How about this, you have some cookies to tide you over today, and Auntie will bring you dinner tomorrow.”

Come on, okay?

”Tomorrow?” Wang Bo’s voice carried a tone of disbelief. “Will Auntie come tomorrow?”

”

”Of course,” Gu Xueqing smiled. “I’m worried about you living here all alone. From now on…”

Your aunt comes to visit you often.

Wang Bo lowered his head, his fingers tightening around the cookie plate. He was silent for a few seconds, then…

She spoke very softly, as if afraid that a loud voice would scare away her kindness, and said, “Thank you, Auntie. You are so kind.”

very nice.”

”Silly boy.” Gu Xueqing reached out and patted his shoulder again. “Then Auntie will go back first, good morning.”

Get some rest, don’t stay up late. Call Auntie if you need anything—wait, I’ll leave you my phone number.

She took her phone out of the side pocket of her skirt and read out a number. Wang Bo took out his phone from the large pocket of his hoodie.

I clumsily saved the number on an old Xiaomi phone.

”It’s saved.” He held up his phone to show her; the screen displayed the page for creating a new contact, with a note field.

The three words, “Aunt Gu,” were typed crookedly inside.

”Okay, good girl.” Gu Xueqing glanced at her and nodded in satisfaction. “Then Auntie’s leaving. Lock the door.”

good.”

”Okay.” Wang Bo stood at the door, holding the cookie plate, watching her turn and walk back. “Goodbye, Auntie.”

”Goodbye.” Gu Xueqing waved and walked along the bluestone path towards her home.

She took about five or six steps, then suddenly remembered something and turned back—

”By the way, Wang Bo, if you’re scared at night, just sleep with the living room light on. Don’t try to save electricity.”

”Okay, Auntie!” Wang Bo’s voice came from the doorway, carrying a warm and comforting feeling of being cared for.

Heart.

Gu Xueqing smiled, turned around and continued walking.

What she didn’t see was—

The moment she turned around, Wang Bo, standing at the door, had that innocent, shy look on his face, tinged with alcohol.

My smile, like a thin layer of wax melting in a flame, disappeared little by little.

Instead, a completely different face appeared.

The eyes were still those big eyes, but the light in the pupils had changed—no longer the watery, innocent light.

Rather, it was a calm, calculating light, imbued with the patience of a predator. The lips were still those thin lips.

But the curve has changed—it’s no longer a timid smile, but a slightly upturned, playful arc.

The contours of her face remained unchanged, but her overall demeanor underwent a fundamental transformation—like on the same stage.

The lighting switched from warm to cool tones, and although all the set design remained unchanged, the entire atmosphere was completely different.

.

He stood at the door, holding a cookie tray, his gaze fixed on Gu Xueqing’s departing figure.

Her gait was graceful. Her waist swayed gently, her long hair swayed slightly on her back, and her wedge sandals clicked on the cobblestones.

A rhythmic tapping sound emanated from her. The grey pencil skirt clung tightly to her hips, and with each step, her two round, full buttocks swayed.

The fleshy buttocks would alternately bulge and contract slightly, like two living creatures slowly breathing in a cloth bag.

A soft gasp escaped her lips. The fabric of the skirt created a shallow indentation at the seam of her hips, extending from her waist to the hem.

The lower edge is like a dark line that guides the eye.

Looking at that figure from behind, Wang Bo’s lips curved upwards slightly.

He glanced down at the cookie plate in his hand, picked up a cookie, and took a bite.

Mmm. It’s buttery. Very sweet.

He chewed on his cookie, retreated into the foyer, and kicked the door shut with his heel.

The door closed very quietly.

——

Lin Mo saw all of this from his room window.

His room was on the second floor, with a window facing to the side, offering a perfect view of the cobblestone path between the two houses.

And the front door of the villa next door. He was originally sitting at his desk doing English reading comprehension—an article about global change.

The article about the impact of warming on polar bear habitat was incredibly boring—but when he heard his mother calling from downstairs, “I’m going…”

When he said, “I’m delivering something to the neighbor,” his attention was no longer on the polar bear.

He turned the swivel chair around so that it faced the window.

The curtains were half-drawn; he didn’t pull them open—there was no need. The half-drawn curtains were positioned just to the right of the window.

A gap about thirty centimeters wide was left, enough for him to see the path below and the doorway next door. And…

The half-drawn curtain could still conceal him—if his mother looked up, she would only see a half-drawn curtain.

With the windows covered, no one would notice a pair of eyes behind the curtains.

He saw his mother carrying a white porcelain plate as she walked out of the front door of their house.

The evening light was soft and orange-red, as if casting a warm-colored filter over her entire body. Milk

The white silk shirt turned a soft honey color under this light, and the gray pencil skirt became warm and inviting.

The shade was a deep gray. Her long hair swayed slightly over her shoulders, the edges of which were outlined in gold by the setting sun.

She walks beautifully.

Lin Mo’s gaze—no, not a gaze. The word “gaze” is too proactive, too conscious. His gaze…

His gaze seemed to be drawn by an invisible thread, automatically, without conscious command.

It landed on her as naturally as breathing.

Specifically, it landed on her buttocks.

He couldn’t remember when it started. Maybe a year ago, maybe two.

Before, or perhaps even earlier. He only knew that after some unknown point in time, whenever his mother appeared in his sight…

In the wild, his eyes would automatically lock onto certain parts of her body, like a programmed tracker.

Each part—chest, waist, hips, legs. He doesn’t need to look at it intentionally. His gaze will follow naturally.

Just like now.

He watched his mother walk along the path toward the front door of the villa next door. Her grey pencil skirt clung tightly to her hips.

Each step caused her two rounded buttocks to sway slightly and rhythmically. (Looking down from the second floor)

See, the swaying is magnified—because the overhead angle makes the curve of the buttocks appear fuller and more pronounced.

Emphasis, even more…

He swallowed hard.

His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

He saw his mother ring the doorbell, and after a moment, the door opened. A… very short person appeared in the doorway.

From the second floor, it’s not very clear; you can only see a small, thin figure wearing a gray hoodie, about [height missing].

The area on the mother’s chest.

Child?

Lin Mo had absolutely no interest in this new neighbor. Just a kid. What did it have to do with him?

His gaze swept past the figure in the gray hoodie and returned to his mother.

The mother was talking to the child. She bent down, bringing her line of sight to the child’s. The act of bending down…

This made her buttocks slightly protrude, the fabric of the pencil skirt stretching taut at the highest point of her hips, creating a shimmering effect.

A smooth, perfectly curved surface.

Then she squatted down.

Lin Mo’s breath hitched.

He had seen his mother squat down countless times—squatting down to tie her shoelaces, squatting down to pick something up, squatting down to tidy her shoes.

He would squat down and tease the neighbor’s cat. Each time, his eyes would be drawn to the same scene—

When she squatted down, the bodycon skirt stretched to its limit between her hips and thighs. The fabric was so taut it looked like…

A drum, every texture clearly visible. The two buttocks, squeezed together by the squatting posture, appear even fuller and rounder.

Even more—he didn’t know what word to use to describe it—even more “full.” Like two balloons filled with water.

The balls, puffy and bulging, seemed ready to break free from the constraints of the skirt at any moment. The skirt would ride up, revealing a glimpse of…

The fair, tender skin at the base of her thighs shimmered with an almost translucent, warm glow in the setting sun.

luster.

Looking down from the second floor, the impact of the view is much stronger than from the same floor. Because of the overhead perspective…

The angle allowed him to see the entire outline of his mother’s buttocks—starting from the indentation at her waist, passing through the highest point of her buttocks.

From the point of origin all the way to the end of the curve at the root of the thigh—a complete, smooth, and breathtaking S-shape.

Curve.

His crotch started to harden again.

He glanced down—a growing, increasingly noticeable bulge was forming in the front of his athletic shorts. That thing…

The west was expanding at an unstoppable pace, bulging out from the inside of the shorts with a crooked, left-leaning shape.

A bulge.

”Damn it,” he cursed inwardly.

I just masturbated in my room this afternoon. I ejaculated quite a lot. Logically, I should rest for a few hours. But…

No. Just seeing her, just seeing her body, that thing seems to have its own will, it won’t…

He made it hard under his control.

He shifted his gaze from his crotch and looked out the window again.

The mother was still squatting by the door next door, talking to the child. She reached out and ruffled the child’s hair—

He knew this gesture all too well; she often ruffled his hair like that too. Then she stood up and said a few more words…

Then, he turned around and walked back.

She walked back in the direction that faced his window.

The setting sun shone from behind her, casting a soft backlight on her face. Her face…

A gentle, satisfied smile—the kind of heartfelt joy that comes from “doing a good deed.”

Her steps quickened, and her hips swayed more, her long hair falling to either side of her shoulders.

It swayed, like a piece of black silk being blown by the wind.

Lin Mo stared at her for a few seconds.

Then he swiveled his chair back to face the desk and picked up the English reading comprehension passage about polar bears.

His eyes lingered on the first line of English for about ten seconds, without reading a single word.

His mind was filled with that image—his mother squatting by the door next door, her gray pencil skirt draped over her hips.

Her skirt was taut, and when it rode up, it revealed a section of her fair, tender thighs, bathed in the glow of the setting sun.

A layer of honey-colored light.

He turned the page of the English reading comprehension section, trying to force himself to concentrate.

Polar bear. Habitat. Global warming. Melting glaciers.

It’s useless.

His penis was still hard, painfully hard, like a spring bent to its limit, ready to spring at any moment.

It might bounce off. The fabric of the athletic shorts was deformed from the pressure, and he could feel the head of his penis rubbing against the inside of the shorts.

The sensation, the rise and fall of my abdomen with each breath, caused that friction to produce a faint, tingling sensation.

The pleasure.

He bit his lip.

I can’t masturbate anymore. I already did it this afternoon. I masturbate twice a day, and both times I’m thinking about my mother.

This realization sent a familiar wave of nausea through him. But nausea as it was, his penis…

It will soften because he feels disgusted. It has its own logic, its own will, its own desires. And it…

The object of your affections is now walking downstairs into the kitchen in wedge sandals, making a soft pattering sound.

”Xiao Mo—” Her mother’s voice came from downstairs. “Come down for dinner—”

”Coming!” he replied.

Then he glanced down at his crotch, took a deep breath, and began to silently recite the English words in his mind.

Words—habitat, endangered, glacier, ec

osystem, carbon dioxide—attempting to use these cold, milligrams

Use non-sexually suggestive words to extinguish the fire in your lower body.

After about two minutes, the thing finally reluctantly softened a little—not completely softened.

But at least he wasn’t blatantly showing off his shorts like before. He stood up and used his hands to pull the legs of his shorts up…

He tugged at the door to make sure it looked normal, then opened the door and headed for the stairs.

The aroma of pork rib soup wafted from the kitchen downstairs, mingling with the faint scent of gardenia-scented shower gel on my mother’s body.

fragrant.

With each step he took down the stairs, he was telling himself—don’t look at her. Don’t look at her chest. Don’t look at her waist.

Don’t look at her butt. Don’t look at her.

But he knew he couldn’t do it.

His eyes wouldn’t listen to him.

They never listen.