Mother and Son's Marriage 1

Preface Do you know what it's like to pursue your own mother? Do you know what it's like to slip your hand under your mother's skirt and touch her private parts? Do you know what it's like to slowly insert your hard penis into your mother's vagina and fully enjoy her body? Do you know what it's like to hold a grand wedding with your mother in front of everyone and hear her call you "husband" in public? Do you know what it's like to get your own mother pregnant and have her give birth to your children? You may not know, but I do. Because I have experienced it firsthand. The passion and wonderful sensations are truly indescribable. There is excitement, satisfaction, and happiness, but a few words are simply not enough to describe that feeling. Perhaps, if I tell you my true story, you will understand. Chapter One: My Beginning I don't know where I was born. I only know that shortly after I was born, I was abandoned in a park in S City. A kind person took me in and raised me for about ten days before finally sending me to an orphanage. I spent the first five years of my childhood in an orphanage. When I was five years old, although I was still very young, my heart, which seemed more mature than others, had already begun to feel lonely. I began to realize that I was different from children with parents, and I began to envy those children who had parental love. That same year, my fate took a dramatic turn. A businessman couple in their fifties, whose son had died young, wanted to adopt a child because they could no longer have children. The couple came to the orphanage where I lived and eventually took me away, making me my adoptive parents. According to my adoptive parents, they chose to adopt me because I looked somewhat like their deceased son. I lived with my adoptive parents in G city for over ten years until they both passed away from illness when I was 20. During those years, my adoptive parents treated me very well, truly treating me as their own son. However, I don't know if it was because I knew they weren't my biological parents or because of the large age difference between them and me, but although I didn't lack their love, I always longed for the love of my biological parents. I always believed in my heart that my biological parents had their reasons for abandoning me, and I didn't hate them. I only hoped that one day I could see them again. Of course, this longing remained buried deep in my heart; I never revealed it to my adoptive parents. I knew they were very good to me, and I didn't want to hurt them with those things, afraid they would think I didn't love them and ignore me. Thinking back on those thoughts now, I feel a pang of sadness; I realize how innocent and foolish I was. However, those who haven't experienced the taste of lacking love can't understand the fear of losing it. After my adoptive parents passed away, they left me a villa and a large sum of money, allowing me to continue living a very wealthy and carefree life. However, I didn't indulge myself because of the financial satisfaction. I graduated from university with excellent grades, earning the admiration of many who knew about my family's wealth. After graduation, I didn't rush to find a job because I didn't need to work to support myself, and I didn't know what to do. Faced with a confusing life, I chose to travel, specifically road trips. For this, I bought a luxury SUV and drove it around, truly experiencing a sense of freedom and adventure. In each place, when I checked into a hotel at night, I would mostly stay in my room, turn on my laptop, and immerse myself in the virtual world online. Of course, sometimes, prostitutes would approach me, but I ignored them. Frankly, I had no interest in those "used and worn" women; the thought of them being touched and ridden by so many men made me lose interest. I preferred mature, respectable women. In college, I tried dating twice. With my relatively tall and handsome appearance and some money, both girlfriends were quite beautiful. Unfortunately, after sleeping with them a few times, I gradually lost passion, and sex became somewhat perfunctory. Girls are very sensitive, so it's easy to imagine the conflicts and doubts that followed. Eventually, the feelings faded, and the only option was a breakup. After those two unsuccessful relationships, I temporarily lost interest in dating and focused on my studies. It wasn't until later, when I was online and saw pictures of mature, voluptuous, and elegant women, and my penis involuntarily sprang to attention, that I truly understood why I hadn't been passionate about campus beauties. It turns out I actually preferred mature, voluptuous women; I hadn't chosen the right type back then. No wonder! Anyway, since I don't frequent prostitutes, how do I deal with sexual urges while traveling? Simple: masturbation. As for picking up married women for one-night stands, I basically don't consider it. That's too troublesome and dangerous, especially when traveling. You might get scammed without even realizing it. Of course, if I had a particularly appealing, respectable mature woman, I wouldn't mind taking the risk occasionally, but unfortunately, I'm always in a rush and have never had such an opportunity. Actually, masturbation is a good way to release sexual energy; it's cheap and convenient, haha. However, masturbation requires stimulation. At first, I would collect pictures of mature, voluptuous women online, but after seeing so many, my standards rose, and my tolerance increased. Relying solely on pictures to achieve stimulation became increasingly difficult. Then, I simply dug deeper, browsing pornographic websites and looking for erotic pictures and videos. This worked for a long time, but unfortunately, after a few months, that method gradually lost its effectiveness. Faced with this situation, with nowhere to release my energy and my mind unconsciously becoming relaxed and decadent, I began frantically browsing numerous pornographic websites, trying to find something to excite me. Finally, my efforts paid off, and I found a new magic weapon: erotic fiction. I don't remember the name of the first erotic fiction I read; I only remember ejaculating after reading only half of it. After experiencing the thrill of erotic fiction, I became addicted to it. I only liked reading mother-son erotic fiction, as it was more relatable. Of course, I didn't imagine my deceased adoptive mother in the story; I respected her greatly, and her circumstances certainly didn't fit the description. When I read the story, I always put myself in the characters' shoes, experiencing the thrill of breaking taboos. Chapter TwoMy mother's whereabouts remain unchanged. Ever since I became obsessed with mother-son fantasy, my passion has never waned. By day, I would enjoy the scenery; by night, I would enter a world of fantasy to continue my blissful escapades. If nothing else changed, this routine would likely continue for a long time. However, that change did come, and it altered the course of my life. That noon, I drove to a relatively remote historical site. As I returned to the parking lot to leave, I saw a farmer's wife with a simple fruit stall outside the bamboo fence, energetically hawking her wares. Unfortunately, the few tourists present paid her little attention. Beside her sat a boy and a girl, about six or seven years old. The two children, dressed in worn-out clothes, stared longingly at the tempting fruit on the stall. However, the two children were quite sensible; they didn't reach for the fruit but sat quietly, not disturbing the woman's business. When no one was walking past the stall, the little girl turned to the woman and whispered, "Mommy, I'm hungry!" The little boy next to her also looked at the woman. The woman glanced around, and seeing that no one would come anytime soon, she took out an old aluminum food box from behind her, opened the lid, took out two steamed buns, and handed one to each of the children. The two children took the buns and began to eat them with relish. The woman watched the two children eat, a satisfied smile on her face, occasionally reminding them to eat slowly so they wouldn't choke. The woman then reached into the food box, took out another bun, took a bite, but then looked at the two children and put the bun back in the box. After the two children finished one bun, the woman continued to give them buns, and so on, until the two children had each eaten three or four buns and indicated that they were full. Only then did the woman stop giving them buns. After the two children were full, they went to a nearby place to pick up small stones and play. After the children left, the woman took out the three remaining steamed buns from the box and began eating the congee and pickled vegetables at the bottom of the box. After finishing the congee, she looked at the buns, then put them back, seemingly wanting to save them for the children. Watching this seemingly ordinary scene, I felt a pang of sadness. I felt sad for the two children's contentment at having buns, sad for the woman's act of saving the buns for her children, and even sad for myself for never having met my own parents. At that moment, the longing and yearning for my parents that had been buried deep within me since childhood burst forth like a flood, instantly overwhelming my heart. Afterwards, I walked out of the parking lot, and with the woman's slightly surprised expression, I bought all the fruit from her stall. Then, I ended my year-long road trip and returned to G city. After returning to G City, I went home briefly, then drove to S City to visit the orphanage where I had been taken, inquiring about my parents. The orphanage was well-managed; even after so many years, they still kept my belongings from when I was found. Those belongings were just a yellowed piece of paper with only one sentence written in delicate handwriting: "Child, your father cruelly abandoned us, and your mother has reached a dead end. Your mother shouldn't have given birth to you, leaving you to suffer alone in this world. Your mother is sorry. I hope you can meet a good family. If fate allows, I will make it up to you in my next life. —Qian." On that short line, several characters had ink smudges spreading outwards in circles, as if wet from water droplets, perhaps tears. Looking at that short line, my eyes blurred, and my throat felt like it was blocked. "Mom, you really had your reasons," I murmured to myself with a sense of relief, while simultaneously feeling immense disappointment, or rather, despair, towards my father, whom I had never met. From those few words, I gleaned a great deal of information. What desperate situation had my mother faced when she abandoned me? She seemed to have suicidal thoughts; perhaps she was no longer in this world. Moreover, from the text, my father was the complete opposite of the father I had always dreamed of. His ruthless image instantly flashed into my mind, shattering all my illusions. I stared blankly at the piece of paper, tears streaming down my face, my mind a complete blank. A moment later, reminded by a staff member, I came to my senses. Then, I composed myself and carefully inquired about the details of how I was brought there, including the time, the identity of the person who brought me, their physical characteristics, and what they said. Unfortunately, because so much time had passed, and so many orphans came and went, although most of the original staff members were still working there, they couldn't remember the events of that time very clearly. Finally, I had to go through the original records to find out the name of the person who brought me there and the time they brought me there. In the remarks section of that record, I found a simple note detailing when and where I was first found. After thanking the orphanage staff and donating some money, I drove around S City for a while. The more I thought about it, the more determined I became. I told myself that my mother might not have committed suicide; as long as there was no definite news of her, there was still a chance. I had to find out the truth; I couldn't give up. With this thought in mind, I considered it and then used directory assistance to find several emerging detective agencies. I told them the information I had and asked them to help me find my mother's whereabouts. Of course, I didn't tell them I was looking for my mother; I just said I was helping a friend. Anyway, even with several times the normal fee, they all readily agreed to do their best to help. As for my father's whereabouts, I didn't want to look for him. I felt that someone who abandoned his wife and children didn't deserve to be my father. After that, I settled down in S City, waiting for news. A month later, just as I was starting to feel restless and anxious, a detective agency brought good news. They called to say they had found my mother's identity and whereabouts, and asked me to come to their agency to fulfill the remaining payment obligations. Hearing this, I went to the detective agency with immense excitement and trepidation. Once there, the staff explained their search and identification process to me, and presented me with evidence for confirmation. It turned out that they hadn't found the kind person who took me to the orphanage, but by searching through newspapers from that time, they found a news story about a woman who attempted suicide by drowning but was rescued. By verifying the description in the newspaper, they gradually located the person involved, and without disturbing them, secretly checked the handwriting, ultimately making a preliminary confirmation of my mother's identity. They did more than that. After initially confirming her identity, they conducted further investigations, confirming that the woman had indeed given birth to a baby boy beforehand, and that the baby had subsequently disappeared. Of course, the efforts and methods they employed certainly went beyond what I've described, but that was enough for me. Faced with such meticulous investigation and evidence, I was incredibly excited and affirmed their conclusions. Ten minutes later, I left the detective agency. I paid 50,000 yuan and received an envelope of documents. Actually, according to the original contract, I didn't need to pay them that much, but I was truly grateful to them, and besides, I didn't care about the money. After leaving the detective agency, I made a call to several other detective agencies that hadn't made any progress in their investigations, canceling their search services and instructing them to treat my deposits as breaches of contract. Then I went straight back to my hotel. Back in my hotel room, I closed the door, clenched my fists, and shouted a few times to release the pent-up excitement I'd been holding back. Only then did I reopen the envelope containing the documents. Inside, there was only a sheet of printed information and three photos. The information sheet listed my mother's name, age, current work address, home address, and current temporary address, even including her marital and family details—it was incredibly detailed, making me marvel once again at the ingenuity of those people. The three photos were clearly taken secretly. One was taken at the entrance of a hotel, and the other two were taken in the hotel lobby. The person in both photos was the same middle-aged woman—wearing a hotel supervisor's uniform skirt, with a professional hairstyle, a full and well-proportioned figure, slightly tall, and with a dignified and beautiful appearance. Calling her middle-aged wasn't quite accurate; she looked to be around thirty-eight or thirty-nine years old. That woman was my biological mother, He Meiqian. Chapter ThreeThe night I first thought of reuniting with my mother, I tossed and turned in my hotel bed, unable to sleep. My mind kept replaying the idea of reuniting with her. I also wondered why, if she was so reluctant to let me go, she hadn't looked for me all these years, or perhaps she had tried but couldn't find me—after all, I had been passed through several hands before being sent to the orphanage. If she had immediately thought of going to the orphanage to find me after being rescued, she certainly wouldn't have found me. Lost in these thoughts, I decided to stay awake and looked at her photo again, hoping to find some peace. This time, I stared at the photo for a long time, wondering what kind of personality she would have, whether she would be easy to get along with, whether my appearance would feel abrupt, and whether she would be happy to see her son. But as I thought, for some reason, my mind started wandering as I looked at her in the photo. "Her breasts seem really big, and the curves of her hips are beautiful. Hmm, her legs are full and well-proportioned. Generally speaking, legs like that are considered beautiful. Paired with a business suit, they are indeed very attractive, especially the way she walks. Her legs, when they move, make the hem of her skirt seem to stretch as if it's about to tear, which perfectly showcases that beauty. Hmm, those high heels she's wearing really match her legs. Damn it, what was wrong with that photographer? Why didn't they take a clearer picture? I can't even tell if she's wearing stockings or not. But, judging from the fair skin of her hands, neck, and face, the whiteness of her legs must be natural, not just because of the stockings. If I could touch those legs, they would feel amazing, probably incredibly smooth and delicate. By the way, her face shape really has that shy, demure charm of a classical beauty. She's so well-maintained. She exudes mature charm without showing any signs of aging. This is the ideal mature woman's charm!" My mind started wandering like this. "How could I think like that? She's my own mother. Thinking like that is so disrespectful to her. I can't think about it anymore." Suddenly, I snapped out of my reverie. I do enjoy reading stories about mothers and sons having incestuous relationships, but I've always felt that what I see and think about is just other people's incestuous behavior, and I'm only temporarily putting myself in their shoes. In reality, I shouldn't have any disrespectful thoughts about my own mother. After snapping out of my reverie, I turned the photo face down on the bedside table and stopped looking at it, trying to calm my racing thoughts. Unfortunately, once that thought arose, it wouldn't go away. Her figure, which perfectly matched my aesthetic and sexual desires, kept replaying in my mind. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my head. On one hand, I felt guilty for having such thoughts, but on the other hand, I couldn't help but imagine her alluring figure. I got out of bed and wandered around the carpet for a while before sitting heavily back down on the bedside table. I opened the bottle of mineral water on the bedside table and gulped down half of it. After finishing the water bottle, I slammed it back onto the counter. As my hand left the bottle, for some reason, I picked up the photograph lying face down next to it and brought it close to my eyes. As my eyes greedily lingered on the image, a thought uncontrollably crossed my mind: what did her vulva look like under her skirt? "Oh no, I'm hopeless." Realizing this thought had crossed my mind, I clutched my hair in anguish, staring at the ceiling, groaning in utter turmoil. Then, I simply lay back on the bed, trying to calm myself again. Unfortunately, the more I tried to calm down, the less I could. In the end, even more outrageous thoughts flashed through my mind, like, "If I could have sex with her, I'd die happy." I struggled with this contradiction for another ten minutes or so before finally calming down, or rather, the inner turmoil finally came to a conclusion. I knew that the incestuous impulses that had been growing unknowingly under my long-term influence had erupted. When those impulses combined with the tempting reality, my pitiful moral compass could no longer hold back the most primal and intense desires in my heart. I knew that if I continued to think that way and do something according to those thoughts, it would be immoral and despised by the world. However, I also knew that deep down, I had truly succumbed to those thoughts, and resistance would only plunge me into agonizing torment. "Forget it, why make myself suffer so much? Let it be, let them think what they want. Anyway, no one knows you're her biological son," I finally relented to myself. After making that first concession, I found myself facing even more compromises and descent into depravity. "If I don't tell her the truth, and approach her and pursue her like a stranger, I wonder if I can win her over. If I do, how exciting and satisfying it would be to sleep with her!" This thought surged forth during my compromise and quickly dominated my entire thought process. "How can I achieve that?" A concrete plan began to take shape in my mind. I pondered this question for a long time, and finally, my feverish mind produced only a rough plan: to pursue her without alienating her, and to completely win her heart and soul. I don't know how I fell asleep, but when I woke up the next morning, my head still ached a little. The feverishness in my mind had subsided, replaced by an unyielding obsession. I knew what I was thinking and doing, but I willingly let myself think and act that way. I don't know if what I thought at that moment represented my true self, but my heart was truly determined to do it: willing to pay any price, willing to accept any punishment, for the dream in my heart. After some consideration, I gradually thought back to my original intention in searching for my mother. After some reflection, I felt that my thoughts and plans didn't seem to conflict with my original intention. Now that I'm all grown up, finding my biological mother isn't so much about seeking her care and love, but rather about uncovering my origins and making my life feel more complete. After finding her, I might regain her love, but will that love be the same as the love I received in childhood? It certainly won't be. That love will likely contain more guilt, but is that really what I want? No. Perhaps, now, what I truly care about is having a biological mother, proving that I'm not truly alone, not a rootless child. In that case, pursuing my own biological mother, making her fall in love with me, and me falling in love with her in return, becoming her lover—as long as I can overcome the moral constraints in my heart and feel natural and happy, what's wrong with that? Perhaps, because of the added thrill of breaking taboos, my love for her will be deeper and more devoted, making her feel happier. Wouldn't that be better than simply appearing before her as a son, caring for her out of respect and filial piety? After considering all this, my heart finally found the perfect balance between familial love and romantic love, becoming incredibly resolute. I don't think I was poisoned by those distorted ideas; on the contrary, I should thank those distorted ideas for helping me find the happiest goal in my life. As for the moral obstacles to overcome in achieving that goal, let them go to hell. They weren't originally conceived by humans; their original purpose was to make society more harmonious and pleasant, not to cause suffering. If it's already causing me pain, why bother adhering to it? Having made up my mind, I passionately and eagerly reconsidered my upcoming itinerary, then refreshed myself and ordered breakfast for my room. The waitress who delivered the food was beautiful, with a great figure, face, and demeanor. Unfortunately, I didn't even bother to glance at her, because my heart already belonged to someone else; my passion would henceforth bloom only for one person. Chapter FourAfter my mother finished her breakfast, which seemed sweeter than usual, I packed my things and hurriedly left the hotel, driving towards H city where she lived. S city and H city are actually quite far apart; if I wanted to be quick, I should have considered flying, but I had my reasons. I felt this car might come in handy when pursuing my mother, so although I desperately wanted to fly there immediately, I patiently drove all the way. The entire trip took me two days in a rush. Along the way, I was exhausted; aside from necessary rest breaks, I was basically driving constantly. Fortunately, the year of road trips had given me excellent training, so I could withstand the fatigue. Most importantly, I was filled with boundless energy. I arrived in H city at 11 pm on the second night. After arriving, I went straight to the Kailong Hotel where my mother was staying. The Kailong Hotel is a four-star hotel, with very complete and comprehensive services and facilities. After arriving at the hotel and stating my intention to check in, a valet immediately drove my car to the parking lot, and a lady in a cheongsam led me to the front desk to complete the check-in process. Meanwhile, the staff quickly helped me with my luggage. Before even entering the hotel, I nervously and excitedly peered into the lobby, but unfortunately, I didn't see my mother. The research materials indicated that my mother worked as a supervisor in the housekeeping department, so although I didn't see her in the lobby, I wasn't too disappointed, thinking I would probably see her after checking in and going to the guest rooms area. While checking in, I noticed a hotel duty sign behind the front desk, which showed that my mother, He Meiqian, was indeed the supervisor in the VIP housekeeping area. This discovery made me so excited that my hands and feet almost trembled. I suppressed my excitement and asked the front desk staff about the room's amenities and benefits. The staff member politely answered my questions, but I only remembered one point: if I stayed in the highest-class VIP room, a head waiter would personally provide service, ensuring a higher level of service. Hearing this, I immediately said I wanted the highest-class VIP room. My eagerness surprised the staff member for a moment. The check-in was completed quickly; this time I booked for a month. After the check-in, a staff member immediately helped me with my luggage cart and guided me to the elevator on the top floor. When the elevator doors opened, I saw the person I most wanted to see—my mother, He Meiqian. My mother was about 1.7 meters tall, with a slender yet full and well-proportioned figure. Her attire was exactly the same as in the photo: an elegant, professional hairstyle, a colorful scarf reminiscent of a flight attendant's uniform around her neck, a purplish-red blouse under a finely tailored dark blue blazer, and a dark blue business skirt that just covered her mid-thigh. The skirt was perfectly tailored, accentuating her waist, hips, and the curves of her thighs. Her legs, clad in sheer flesh-colored stockings, appeared even whiter and more shapely, and she wore black high heels that further enhanced the perfect curves of her legs. In short, at first glance, she presented the image of a dignified and sophisticated professional woman, captivating one's heart—at least I was extremely captivated. "Good evening, Mr. Zheng. It's an honor to serve you. Your room is this way; please follow me." My mother greeted me politely with a warm smile upon seeing me, her guest, before turning to personally guide me to my room. Seeing her smile and hearing her soft, sweet voice, I felt a sense of disorientation, as if something was stirring within me, and I stood frozen in place. After a moment of stunned silence, a kind reminder from the waiter brought me back to my senses, and I followed my mother towards my room. The room was not far to the left of the elevator. Along the way, I followed behind my mother, my gaze constantly sweeping over her swaying waist and shapely hips as she walked, and of course, her alluring, long, and full legs. I knew that at that moment, if someone had seen my expression from the front, they would have seen my lecherous face. The short distance was covered quickly. When we reached the door of the VIP room, number 808, my mother stopped, turned sideways to me, and took out her card to open the door. From her side, I truly appreciated the magnificent view of her ample breasts. However, at that moment, the luggage handler followed and stood right next to me. I had to suppress the urge to continue looking closely and pretend not to see anything. After entering the room, my mother, with a smile, politely introduced the services of the VIP room and helped the handler arrange my luggage. Actually, I didn't remember exactly what she said; my attention was completely drawn to the beautiful way she bent over and squatted. In fact, I think that a woman's bending and squatting posture best showcases the curves of her body, and this was perfectly embodied in my mother. After secretly admiring the "beautiful view" for a while, I didn't dare to continue, afraid that they would suddenly turn around and notice something amiss. Anyway, there would be plenty of time to appreciate it in the future, and it would be a loss if I ruined my image because of my current lecherous behavior and made my mother feel disgusted with me. After a brief period of busy work, my mother politely said goodbye and left the room with the handler. Watching the door close, I suddenly felt a sense of loss. However, I quickly composed myself and told myself, "Zheng Yi, you've finally taken the first step. Now it's up to you to see how you handle things. You must win her over, or you'll spend the rest of your life in endless regret." That night, I tossed and turned for a long time before finally falling asleep. Of course, it wasn't because my mind was preoccupied with anything, but because I was so excited about the challenging and exciting days ahead. I got up early the next morning. After getting dressed, the first thing I did was open the door and go to look around to see if I could spot my mother. Unfortunately, I was disappointed this time; I didn't see her, only another supervisor. I went back to my room and called the front desk to order breakfast. After breakfast, I wandered around the hotel, hoping to run into my mother. But after a while, I still didn't see her. I figured she had probably changed shifts and gone home. Then, I stopped wandering around and struck up a conversation with a waiter, finally figuring out what was going on. It turned out that there were three supervisors working in shifts in the VIP area, each working eight hours, with shifts usually changing once a week. It seemed I wouldn't see my mother again until the evening. Having confirmed this, I had no desire to stay in the hotel any longer, so I decided to drive out for a drive to clear my head and kill time. Finally, it was 10 PM, and my mother arrived on time to take over. I saw her at the door, and a surge of excitement welled up inside me. My plan was finally about to begin. After glancing at her from the doorway, I went back into the room, took off the ring on my finger, and held it in my palm. Then, I pressed the service bell. Soon, there was a knock on the door. I quickly went to the door and opened it, immediately seeing my mother standing there. "Mr. Zheng, is there anything we can help you with?" my mother asked politely. Because she was standing very close to me, I could smell a faint fragrance emanating from her; I couldn't tell if it was her natural scent or perfume. The delicate fragrance stirred a sudden surge of excitement within me. I managed to suppress this turmoil and calmly said, "I had a ring on the table, but it's gone. I guess I accidentally dropped it somewhere on the floor. I've been looking for it for a while, but I can't find it. Could you help me look for it?" My mother readily agreed to help. I then led her into the room and pretended to search with her, while secretly watching her. Watching her squat and kneel as she diligently searched, naturally displaying her alluring figure, I couldn't help but swallow hard, almost wanting her to keep searching forever. However, the room was small, and if it dragged on too long, and they searched the entire room without finding it, it would seem too fake. So, although reluctant to end the game, I had to stop at the right time. After pretending for a few minutes, I reached under the bed and pretended to find the ring. "Ah, finally found it! It rolled into such a remote corner, no wonder it was so hard to find. Thank you so much for helping me search for so long," I said gratefully. Seeing that I had found the ring, my mother stopped searching and stood up. She seemed about to say goodbye and leave the room. How could I let that happen? I'd gone to so much trouble to lure her in; I had to get something out of it. "You've really worked hard. Have some water," I said, preemptively offering her an unopened bottle of mineral water to stall her. "Thank you, but I'm not thirsty. I have to go back to my duty, so I won't disturb your rest any longer. If you need anything, just call me anytime, and I'll be there soon.""I'll be right back." She politely declined my offer and insisted on leaving, seemingly unwilling to be alone with me, a male guest, for too long. Seeing this, I became a little anxious and quickly said, "Actually, I do have something else I'd like to trouble you with. I wonder if you have time to help me?" "It's my pleasure to serve you. Meeting the reasonable needs of our guests is our duty. Please let me know if there's anything else you need," she said politely, glancing at the still-open door, and stopped turning to leave. Seeing that I had her back, I breathed a sigh of relief. After a moment's thought, I said to her, "It's like this, I came to H City this time to do some sightseeing, but I'm unfamiliar with the area and don't know where to start. I wonder if you could recommend some of the attractions and bustling commercial areas of H City to me?" Seeing that my so-called request for help was actually this, she seemed to secretly relax. After a moment's thought, I understood why she reacted this way. I guessed she'd probably been harassed by male customers before, so she was worried I'd make any inappropriate requests. After all, my intention to keep her in the room was rather obvious; it seems my acting skills weren't up to par. "Oh, okay, then let me give you a brief introduction," she said, agreeing. Seeing her agree, I inwardly cheered, then politely invited her to sit on the sofa. I sat opposite her across the coffee table, adopting a posture of being a good listener, looking at her earnestly. My gentlemanly demeanor seemed to dispel her last doubts and worries. She then began to introduce herself to me very carefully and thoroughly. Her introduction took five or six minutes. During this time, I listened quietly, nodding occasionally, without interrupting. It wasn't that I couldn't get a word in edgewise, but rather that I simply didn't want to interrupt her. I felt a sense of intoxication listening to her soft, mature voice. After the introduction, she again said goodbye. This time, I didn't make any excuses to keep her. Instead, I politely saw her to the door and sincerely thanked her. That night, I slept soundly and had a good dream, though I won't reveal what it was about. The next day, after breakfast, I drove around the city and its outskirts, seeing many of the sights my mother had recommended. After another day of idling, I eagerly awaited her shift. Finally, after counting sheep on the ceiling for what seemed like the hundredth time, ten o'clock arrived. I carefully opened the door and, seeing that she was already at work, went out. Her service desk was near the elevator. I pretended to be going downstairs and, as I approached the elevator, greeted her and struck up a conversation, thanking her for the introduction and how it had saved me a lot of time. This time, she responded warmly and offered some suggestions. Before I knew it, we had chatted for several minutes. It wasn't until the elevator came up for the fourth time that I said goodbye and went downstairs. For the next ten days or so, I basically repeated the same thing: going sightseeing during the day, and finding opportunities to strike up a conversation with her after my mother went to work in the evening. The opportunities varied: sometimes I pretended to bump into her in the hallway, sometimes I struck up a conversation while waiting for the elevator, and sometimes I took the opportunity to chat with her while asking her to deliver something to my room. In short, after ten days, we were quite familiar with each other. Through these ten days of contact, I also gained a deeper understanding of my mother's personality and inner qualities. As a result, the more I learned, the more fascinated I became with her. I was now convinced that she would not only be a woman who could drive a man wild, but also a virtuous wife and loving mother. And my thoughts and ideas slowly began to change with our deepening contact. Of course, my desire to pursue her remained unchanged; in fact, it became even stronger. What changed in my thoughts and ideas? To put it simply, it was just one thing. To put it simply, when I first had the idea of pursuing my mother, although I made up various reasons for myself, essentially it was mainly out of a desire for incestuous thrills and a longing for her body. But now, through a deeper understanding of her personality and inner qualities, I've begun to feel that I've developed pure romantic love for her, a desire to truly have her as my lover, not just a mistress. Chapter FiveOn the morning I first met the girl's parents, I woke up as usual, filled with joy and anticipation, and began my day. After getting up, I found it was raining heavily and the wind was strong outside. However, the weather didn't affect my plans, because I had a car. I went to the underground parking lot, started the car, and drove towards the exit. As I drove out of the parking lot, suddenly, a beautiful figure caught my eye. It was my mother! It was my mother! She was standing under an awning near the parking lot exit, a women's motorcycle parked beside her, occasionally looking up at the sky. My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly turned the steering wheel and drove up to her. "Sister Qian, are you waiting here for the rain to stop?" I asked her, rolling down the window. We'd gotten to know each other better over time, and I'd started calling her Sister Qian, which she didn't object to, so that's what I addressed her by now. At my request, she no longer called me Mr. Zheng, but Xiao Yi. When my mother saw me and greeted her, she turned to look at me, her expression somewhat helpless, and said, "Yes, I was supposed to hand over my shift at six o'clock, but seeing that it was raining heavily, I worked overtime for a while. Who would have thought that when I finished, it was still raining heavily, and the wind was blowing even harder? I've been waiting for half an hour, and I don't know how long this rain will last." Hearing her say this, a brilliant idea suddenly came to my mind. "Is that so? Sister Qian, how about I take you home? Anyway, I don't have anything important to do; I just drive around aimlessly." I suggested. My mother shook her head and said, "How could I? It's too much trouble for you. I'll wait a little longer; you go and do your work." "What's there to be embarrassed about? I really have nothing to do; it's no trouble at all. Besides, this rain probably won't stop anytime soon, and who knows how long we'll have to wait. Don't be so polite with me; come on in." I sincerely persuaded her. Seeing my insistence, my mother glanced at the sky again, thought for a moment, and then nodded, saying, "Thank you. I'll go park the car first and then come out. Please wait a moment, it'll be quick." With that, she started her motorcycle and drove back to the parking lot. Two minutes later, she emerged from the parking lot. I opened the passenger door for her beforehand. My mother opened the door and got in, settling down gracefully and closing the door behind her. Once inside, the enclosed space made her subtle fragrance even more pronounced, wafting into my nostrils. I couldn't help but take a deep breath, pretending to check the door was closed, while my eyes quickly glanced at her plump thighs pressed together, my heart pounding involuntarily. "Sister Qian, where do you live? Let's go straight back now," I asked her, quickly adjusting my demeanor to avoid being noticed. My mother immediately gave me an address and pointed out the directions. Without further ado, I followed her directions and drove towards her house. Along the way, listening to her soft voice, smelling her delicate fragrance, and occasionally stealing glances at her beautiful legs, I felt quite content. I truly wished her house were on the farthest reaches of the world, so I could enjoy myself longer. Unfortunately, her house wasn't on the farthest reaches, but in a residential area in the west of the city, probably only two or three kilometers from the hotel. Although I slowed down considerably, after a few turns, I still arrived back at her house. Her house was a detached little courtyard, a three-story building with a wall, which looked quite old, the walls a faded color. After parking, I immediately pulled an umbrella from behind the driver's seat, then got out in the rain, opened the umbrella, and walked to the other side of the car to escort her inside. My mother didn't have an umbrella, so she didn't say anything, and after getting out of the car, she stood close to me, letting me shield her from the rain. As we walked towards the house, I initially considered putting my arm around her waist, but then I thought it would be too abrupt and might offend her, so I abandoned that idea and instead tried to hold the umbrella as close to her side as possible. Of course, I took the opportunity to inhale her delicate fragrance more deeply. The ten-meter distance was quickly covered. She took out her key, opened the front door, and we walked together into the yard and into the living room on the first floor of the small house. Once inside, I put away my umbrella. At that moment, I noticed that one side of my clothes was completely soaked and dripping wet. My mother noticed this as well and said apologetically, "I'm so sorry you got your clothes all wet. My parents aren't back yet. If you're not in a hurry, could you sit here for a bit? I'll go find you some clothes to change into, and I'll let you dry your clothes before you change back in, okay?" "Okay, that's perfect!" I thought to myself. "Thank you so much," I replied. Then, with a series of crisp high heel clicks, my mother turned and went upstairs to the second floor. A moment later, she came down empty-handed. She said to me apologetically, "I'm so sorry, I wanted to get some of my dad's clothes for you to change into, but his room was locked, and I couldn't get them." "It's alright, the weather isn't cold now, it's okay if the clothes are a little wet, they'll dry on their own soon," I quickly said. My mother seemed still quite apologetic. After thinking for a moment, she blushed slightly and said to me, "You might catch a cold if you keep wearing wet clothes. How about this, you go to the bathroom, take off your clothes, and hand them to me. I'll take them to dry. You just wait in the bathroom for a bit, it'll be done quickly." "Okay, thank you," I quickly agreed, afraid she might change her mind. Then, I went to the bathroom next to the living room, took off my t-shirt and trousers, and handed them out through the crack in the door. My mother took them from outside, said "wait a moment" again, and then went back upstairs. I stood in the bathroom for a few minutes, arms crossed, racking my brain for an excuse to stay longer. Suddenly, I heard voices coming from the living room. It was an elderly man and woman talking. Could it be my mother's parents, my maternal grandparents, coming home? A wave of anxiety washed over me. Would they make a bad impression on me if they saw me like this? I worried. As I did so, I heard the voices getting closer and closer to the bathroom. "Honey, our daughter seems to be back, but where's her motorcycle?" "In this wind and rain, who could ride a motorcycle? She probably took a taxi." "True. By the way, did you notice the SUV parked outside our gate? Whose car is that? Nobody around here owns one. If someone else is looking for someone, they shouldn't park it in front of our house. It's really strange." "Old man, why are you thinking about that? It's not blocking your way. Oh dear, old man, can you be a little more careful when you put things down? Making such a racket, what if it disturbs our daughter's sleep? She's been working the night shift a lot lately and can only catch up on sleep in the morning. It's so hard for her." As I listened to them talk like this, they had already walked to the outside of the bathroom. Judging from their footsteps, they seemed to have stopped. "Are they going into the bathroom? Oh no! What should I do?" My heart was pounding with anxiety. If they saw me hiding in the bathroom in just my underwear and shoes, I'd be in big trouble. At that crucial moment, I heard my mother's voice. It came from the direction of the stairs, accompanied by the sound of her high heels walking down. "Dad, Mom, you're back," my mother greeted them. I could hear the obvious tension in her voice. "Daughter, aren't you going to catch up on your sleep? Why are you down here? And why are you carrying a set of men's clothes?" my grandmother asked. "Ah, well, it's like this. It was raining heavily earlier, and I couldn't ride my motorcycle. A friend drove me home, but his clothes got wet when we got inside, so I dried them for him. I'm bringing them down now," my mother explained, her words a little hesitant. "Oh, so that car outside the gate belongs to your friend. By the way, where is your friend? We didn't see him when we got back," my grandfather chimed in. "Yes, we didn't see him," my grandmother added, equally puzzled. "Well, he's in the bathroom," my mother replied weakly after a moment of silence. I could easily imagine the interesting look on her face. Bringing a man home, then having him take off his clothes and hide in the bathroom, only to be caught by her unsuspecting parents—any woman would be nervous in that situation. As my mother finished speaking, I heard her footsteps reaching the door. The two elders were silent for a moment, probably stunned. "Xiaoyi, your clothes are done," my mother said, knocking on the bathroom door. I quickly opened the door a crack and saw a pale hand slip my clothes through the crack. I took the clothes and hurriedly put them on, while simultaneously hearing scattered footsteps heading towards the living room. "Daughter, tell me honestly, is that man inside your boyfriend?" I heard my grandmother ask my mother in a low voice, though her voice was still quite loud, and I could roughly hear her. "Mom, what nonsense are you talking about? He's just a casual friend I've known for a short time, maybe even less...""We're not really acquaintances, just friends. He just happened to bring me back. Don't say anything out of the ordinary, it'll embarrass him," my mother whispered, trying to explain. "Oh, I know, haha," my grandmother chuckled, and my grandfather chuckled a few times too, but their laughter sounded a little strange to me. They seemed to say something else after that, but they were a bit far away by then, so I couldn't hear them clearly. I quickly changed my clothes, took a deep breath, thought about what I would say when I went out, and then walked out with a nervous heart. As soon as I turned back to the living room, I saw a man and a woman, both around seventy years old, slightly overweight, with ordinary but kind faces, sitting on the sofa drinking water. My mother was standing, looking at me somewhat helplessly. After I appeared in the living room, the two elderly people stood up, carefully looking me over, a hint of surprise flashing across their faces. My mother opened her mouth as if to say something, but seemed to not know what to say for a moment. "Uncle and Aunt, hello, my name is Zheng Yi. I'm so sorry to bother you," I said, breaking the silence. "You must be Meiqian's friend. Come and sit down, don't be shy," Grandma was the first to react, warmly inviting me to sit down with a smile. I immediately tried to remain calm and went over, sitting on the sofa chair next to them. After I sat down, Grandma chuckled and went to get a cup and tea leaves to make me some tea. My mother glanced at me helplessly and sat down as well. Grandpa took out a cigarette and handed it to me with a smile. I quickly stood up to take the cigarette and took out my lighter to light it for him. After we finished lighting the cigarette, we sat down together again, and Grandma also made tea for me and sat down. What followed was a typical scene of a son-in-law meeting his parents-in-law for the first time. The two elders asked me some casual questions, which I answered nervously but politely. My mother, however, couldn't get a word in edgewise, or rather, didn't know how to join the conversation, looking helpless and embarrassed. I knew my grandparents had misunderstood. Although my mother had explained, they didn't seem to believe her explanation and still thought I was her boyfriend. This wasn't surprising; after all, me taking off my clothes for my mother to dry was something most friends wouldn't do—it seemed too intimate and beyond what most people would imagine. Even among close friends, even if the woman didn't feel embarrassed, the man would probably feel awkward. What deepened their misunderstanding was that my behavior did indeed resemble that of her boyfriend. It wasn't that I was pretending; that was truly my intention. I didn't just want to be her boyfriend; I wanted to be her husband. In short, the two elders were behaving like parents-in-law looking at their son-in-law, which was understandable. And I was feeling like a son-in-law meeting his mother-in-law for the first time, which was even more understandable. Only my mother was temporarily sidelined, unable to defend herself. During the conversation, my maternal grandparents asked how long I had known my mother. Of course, I didn't dare say I'd only known her for a couple of weeks, but vaguely replied that we'd known each other for some time. The tense yet pleasant conversation lasted for about ten minutes. My maternal grandmother stood up first, saying she would cook for me. I pretended to decline for a moment, but was "convinced" by her and my grandfather's insistence. When I agreed to stay for dinner, I saw my mother turn around and, when the two elders weren't looking, give me a slightly embarrassed and annoyed glare. She seemed to be blaming me for pushing my luck, pretending to be her boyfriend and then trying to freeload, as if she was determined to play the role of prospective son-in-law to the end. I pretended to ignore her glare. What a joke! How could I miss such a great opportunity to build a good relationship with the two elders? These opportunities are hard to come by! Once I've established a good rapport with them, it'll be much easier to come here often. In short, this situation completely exceeded my plans; it was as if God was secretly helping me. I could only secretly rejoice. Grandma went to cook, and seeing that Grandpa and I were still chatting happily, with no room for her to interrupt, Mother simply stood up and went to help in the kitchen, probably to explain things to Grandma as well. While we were chatting, I noticed a very well-made chess set under the coffee table in front of the sofa and casually mentioned it. Grandpa immediately became very interested and started talking about his glorious victories. Coincidentally, I also know a bit about chess, so I immediately suggested we play a few games. As it turned out, after several games, it was a close call, with both sides winning and losing. Grandpa was thrilled, saying he hadn't found a suitable opponent in a long time and insisted that I come and play with him often. I readily agreed, secretly grateful to my old roommate who used to drag me into chess games. After a few more games, dinner was ready. Grandma urged him repeatedly before Grandpa reluctantly ended his game and we went to the table. During dinner, I noticed Grandma's attitude towards me hadn't changed at all, which put my mind at ease. It seemed that while Mom was in the kitchen, she either didn't explain further or tried but to no avail. Over the meal, my relationship with Grandpa and Grandma had grown considerably. They frequently glanced at me and then at Mom, their satisfaction evident. After dinner, seeing it was getting late, I worried about both disturbing Mom's nap and overworking her, and also about the potential for overdoing it, so I said goodbye. My parents tried to persuade me to stay, especially my grandfather, who wanted to play a few more games with me. I finally managed to leave, saying I had important business to attend to. Before leaving, faced with my grandfather's enthusiastic challenge, I patted my chest and agreed. My mother saw me off. She didn't say much the whole way, until I was almost in the car, when she said to me with a slightly uncertain expression, "My parents probably have a misunderstanding. No matter what I say, they won't believe me. I'm so sorry you had to see that. Why didn't you explain earlier?" I smiled and said to her, "As long as the elders are happy, a misunderstanding is fine. To be honest, I really wish I were your boyfriend, haha..." After saying that, my heart skipped a beat, and my eyes were fixed on her reaction. My mother seemed taken aback by my answer. After a long pause, she said softly, "I'm so old, how could I be worthy of being your girlfriend? It's raining heavily, you should get in the car, I should go back too. Anyway, thank you for bringing me home." I wanted to say something, but seeing her expression, I held back, nodded, and got into the car with a hint of disappointment. After the car started moving, I turned around and saw her standing still at the door. After the car had driven a few dozen meters, I looked back again, but she was gone. At that moment, I felt a little lost. I knew that she had probably gradually realized that I had some feelings for her, or more directly, that I liked her. Otherwise, her expression when she saw me off wouldn't have been so unnatural. It's true, for the past ten days or so, I've deliberately tried to strike up a conversation with her every day. Even if I acted carefully and naturally, after a while, she's not stupid; she'll definitely notice something. Plus, considering my behavior at her house today, it would be strange if she still didn't realize it. Although I'm unsure of her current mindset, as long as she hasn't explicitly rejected me, it's alright. Opportunities must be earned. As long as I'm sincere and persistent, I believe I'll eventually win her over. Of course, even if she expresses rejection or dislike today, I won't give up. I'll pursue her until the last day of my life. Chapter SixAfter my first confession to her, I drove around aimlessly for a while, my mind replaying her expression and words as she saw me off. Finally, I stopped driving and went straight back to the hotel. Back in my room, I lay down and thought things through again. After a long period of reflection, I finally cleared my head and felt more at peace. That night, after 10 pm, I went out again. But after driving around the entire floor, I couldn't find her. Finally, I went back to my room and pressed the call button, only to be greeted by a different supervisor. I ordered some food and casually asked why it wasn't Supervisor He on duty. The supervisor said she had taken the night off. Hearing this, I felt disappointed and melancholy, and also a little worried, wondering if my mother had taken the day off to avoid seeing me. If that was the case, it seemed really bad. My heart was filled with anxiety and uncertainty. That night, I tossed and turned for a long time before finally falling asleep. I got up very early the next morning. After getting up, I opened the window and found that the weather outside was nice, but my heart felt a little gloomy. After a somewhat tasteless breakfast, I drove around for a while. Then, I looked at the sky and thought that it wouldn't be too abrupt to go to her house at this time, so I turned around and drove towards her house. When I arrived at her house, I found the door locked. I thought for a moment, then got out of the car and knocked on the door, but unfortunately, no one answered after knocking for a while. It seemed that her grandparents were not home, and as for whether her mother was home, I wasn't sure. Perhaps she was home but just didn't want to see me. I waited patiently outside the door for another half hour, but still no one appeared, so I drove away, feeling extremely disappointed. After leaving her house, I drove around a few streets, found a coffee shop, ordered a pot of Blue Mountain coffee, and sipped it slowly and absentmindedly. After waiting for more than an hour, I left the coffee shop, drove back, but still no one answered, so I had to leave again. So, I went to her house every hour or so, throughout the morning and afternoon, but each time I returned disappointed. At nine o'clock in the evening, I went again, and this time, I finally saw her. Actually, even before I saw her, just seeing the lights from the small house in the distance, I was already excited. My grandfather opened the door. As soon as he saw me, he greeted me warmly, urging me to come in quickly, as if afraid I would turn around and leave. After entering the living room on the first floor, I only saw my grandmother sitting on the sofa watching TV; my mother was nowhere to be seen. My heart skipped a beat, thinking, "Has she not come back yet?" After my grandmother greeted me, she noticed my confusion and quickly said, "Mom went upstairs to take a shower." Then, Grandma started nagging again: "Last night, your uncle and I planned to go to the park today, but Meiqian insisted on coming with us. She took the day off last night and spent the whole day wandering around with us. I suggested she just invite you, but she said you were busy and didn't. It would have been so much better if you had come today; it would have saved the old man from constantly nagging about playing chess with you, it's driving me crazy, haha..." I could only smile in response. Then, Grandpa came over and asked if I was free. When I said I was, he immediately brought out the chessboard, saying that since we were waiting anyway, we might as well play a few games first—what a passionate chess fanatic! I had no choice but to play along. When we got to the third game, Mom came downstairs. She was wearing her business suit, probably planning to go straight to work. Her figure and beautiful legs momentarily stunned me, but I quickly recovered. When my mother saw me, she looked a little awkward, but still came over and greeted me. Grandma saw my mother come down and gave Grandpa a wink, but he was so engrossed in the chess game that he didn't notice. Seeing this, Grandma simply took the chessboard away. "There's plenty of time for chess, don't waste other people's time," she said to Grandpa with a hint of reproach. Grandpa chuckled helplessly. Seeing Grandma's words, I took the opportunity to stand up and said to my mother, "Sister Qian, aren't you going to your 10 o'clock shift? It's almost time, I'll take you there." My mother didn't object, told the two elders, and we went out together. After getting in the car and closing the door, my mother turned to look at me and said in a somewhat cold tone, "Don't come again, okay?" Hearing her words and tone, I suddenly felt as if my heart had been violently clenched, and I felt a little suffocated. "Why? I just wanted to see you." I blurted out, staring intently at her. In the dim light of the streetlamp in the distance, I saw her brow furrow slightly, her gaze unfocused. My mother, noticing my gaze, turned her head away, avoiding my eyes. "If my parents continue to misunderstand, it won't be good for either of us. Please don't come again," she said, looking ahead at the car. "They won't misunderstand at all. Actually, I genuinely want to be your boyfriend. Promise me, okay?" I blurted out impulsively. My mother seemed flustered by my sudden directness. She took a deep breath, then turned back to me, looking at me intently, and said in a very serious tone, "I'm really not suitable to be your girlfriend, and I don't want to be anyone's girlfriend. Please don't bother me anymore, okay?" I panicked, abandoning all politeness, and reached out to grasp her smooth left hand, holding it tightly. My mother, caught off guard by my abrupt action, probably thought I was about to do something else to her, and was so frightened that she cried out, "Ah! What are you doing? Let go!" She tried to pull her hand away forcefully. Seeing that I had startled her, I felt flustered and instinctively released my hand, allowing her to pull it back. After pulling her hand away, she turned to open the car door and get out, but the door was locked with the electronic lock, and she couldn't open it despite several attempts. "Sister Qian, I'm sorry, I startled you. I was a little hasty just now, so I offended you. I'm sorry. I really didn't mean any harm. I really like you, please believe me," I hurriedly explained, secretly regretting my impulsive actions. Seeing that the door wouldn't open, my mother turned around and said to me, somewhat angrily, "I don't need anyone to like me. Please respect me and stop bothering me. Now, open the car door quickly, I need to get out, or I'll yell." I raised my hands above my head and said to her, "Okay, okay, I respect you. I'll take you to the hotel now, or you'll be late." My mother seemed to want to object, but after thinking about it, she fell silent and sat there speechlessly. Seeing this, I didn't dare say anything more for the time being, and immediately started the car, heading towards the hotel. We didn't speak a word the whole way; the atmosphere in the car was very tense. I hadn't expected my mother to react so strongly to my confession; it seemed she had no intention of accepting my pursuit at all. This result left me feeling heartbroken and incredibly disappointed. However, by the time we arrived at the hotel, I had regained my composure. I wouldn't give up. I guessed that her current rejection stemmed from two main reasons: firstly, the age gap—I'm almost twenty years younger than her; and secondly, perhaps my direct confession was too sudden, making it difficult for her to accept. After all, we'd only known each other for a little over ten days, and people of her generation probably couldn't adapt to the current lightning-fast declarations of love. Of course, that's just my guess, but only she knows for sure. In any case, whatever the reason, I wouldn't give up my pursuit until I could win her over. However, I needed to change my approach. After the car pulled into the parking lot, my mother didn't say anything more to me. She simply opened the car door, got out, and left without looking back, as if afraid I would chase after her. Although I was somewhat prepared for this, I still felt a pang of disappointment. Afterward, I locked the car and headed back to my room. When I got out of the elevator, I saw my mother already at the service desk, completing the handover procedures with the previous supervisor. When she saw me, she didn't give me the cold shoulder anymore. Instead, she forced a professional smile and, along with the supervisor, greeted me, "Good evening, Mr. Zheng." Hearing me switch from "Xiao Yi" back to "Mr. Zheng" made my heart ache. I didn't say much, just nodded politely and went straight back to my room. That night, I couldn't sleep. The next morning, while washing my face, I noticed I looked a little tired. "Zheng Yi, just hang in there, don't lose heart, you'll succeed. She'll be your wife sooner or later. Keep going!" I said firmly to myself in the mirror. Chapter SevenUnexpectedly, I stayed in the hotel all day, not going out at all, because I felt there was no point in going anywhere. I wanted to go to her house, but I was afraid that going right away would offend her, so I didn't dare to go for the time being, thinking I'd wait a couple more days. While staying in the room, I wasn't just spacing out and daydreaming; I also browsed the internet a bit, but unfortunately, things that used to attract my attention no longer held much appeal for me. Even those mother-son romance novels that used to excite me didn't interest me anymore. As evening approached and darkness fell, I simply turned off the computer and took out a picture of my mother. I lay on the bed, looking at the picture of my mother. Looking at her beautiful figure in the photo, my heart finally no longer felt that c

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Mother and Son's Marriage 1

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