My mom can't be this cute

When I got home from university, my mother was on the phone in the living room. My
mother's name is Xinzhui, and she's 44 years old. She's an English teacher at a nearby middle school.
Her hair is dyed light brown, she wears earrings, and her long nails are painted with bright nail polish. Even without makeup, her upright
face is striking; with careful grooming, she's even more beautiful.
I'm just an ordinary high school student. I don't participate in any school clubs, and my hobbies aren't anything special. Although I listen to pop music...
If she could sing well, she'd definitely be a talented idol, highly sought after by male classmates.
This isn't self-promotion; my mother is truly an extraordinary person.
Of course, I don't mean to boast about my mother. While I'm not entirely unaware of the feelings of many men who admire me, I still have to say,
"Stop joking!"
Perhaps those with beautiful mothers can better understand my feelings.
My mother isn't as wonderful as they imagine, at least not to me. It's
actually quite easy to understand. My mother is the kind of teacher who, even after class, is so popular that students line up to ask her questions until the next class, yet she doesn't even come to the classroom
. She's the kind of teacher who's so unpopular that it's hard to imagine her being a "goddess"—someone who seems to live in another world.
Most timid boys just think, "How wonderful it would be if she noticed me."
Of course, I was like that too.
Imagine this goddess is your family member. Of course, imagine it while maintaining the distance of a pure mother-son relationship.
...How about that, you understand my embarrassment now? It's not such a good thing, is it?
Out of politeness, I called out. But my mother didn't respond at all, not even a glance. Wearing headphones, a wide-shouldered tank
top, and a miniskirt, my mother was nestled in the soft sofa, legs crossed, happily giggling at her phone, seemingly completely
unaware of my presence.
I'm already used to seeing my mother dressed like this. Of course, as a teacher, I should set a good example and pay attention to my image. But my mother is different. She
studied abroad in her youth and was influenced by Western education, so her thinking has always been very progressive and independent. Even after returning to China, she didn't have a big wedding.
Now, although she's over 40, she still dresses very fashionably and casually. Of course, with a pretty face, all of this is understandable.
That smile is really cute, but I've never seen it before. Although Mom is fashionable, she's still very strict with me. I guess if Mom knew I was here, she
wouldn't show that cute smile in front of me.
"Huh—? No way—? Why are you so late? Your clothes are all messed up. You look like an idiot."
Sigh, I'm the idiot when I call you that.
She gives off a mature and alluring vibe, not at all like a high school teacher. She's tall and slender, but her curves are perfectly proportioned.
I cursed inwardly as I yanked open the refrigerator door. I took out a box of barley tea, poured it into a glass, and drank it all in one gulp. "Ha—",
I let out a deep, satisfying sigh, and left the living room.
"Okay, okay... I'll go after I change." Mom whispered into the phone.
My dinner's still nowhere in sight, and she's already going out?
Sigh, whatever, I'll just order takeout. It's not the first time anyway. I muttered to myself as I walked up the stairs.
My name is Tiger, and I'm 17 years old. I attend a nearby high school—yes, that one. And to make matters worse, my English teacher is my mom. I
listen to music, and read some novels and comics, but I wouldn't call them any particular interests.
Isn't that what a typical high school student is like? You might think this kind of life is too stable and boring, but I think staying "normal" is important.
"Stability" means keeping pace with those around you, living a down-to-earth life.
And "stability" means less risk.
Fortunately, my grades aren't too bad right now. If I continue to grow like this, I might be able to get into a decent university. What about
after that? I'll leave that for my four years of university life.
Anyway, I've long forgotten any immediate ambitions… If I had to say, I'd say I live a simple, unremarkable, quiet, and peaceful life.
After school, I either stroll around the streets with my classmate Lingqiao, chatting idly, or stay home reading comics, watching TV, and so on. Sometimes… I study a little.
The same old shoeboxes are half-hidden between the wall and the wall.
Living a simple life is my ambition, I guess.
"I'm home."
My home is a typical apartment in a typical neighborhood, a top-floor unit with an attic. There's me, my sister, and my parents. My mother and I live together, along with a Chihuahua named DouDou.
My older sister is currently studying at a university in another city and doesn't live at home anymore; she only comes back during holidays. So, theoretically, the family only really cares about the three of us and the dog.
We're a moderately well-off family, nothing special, just an average household. My sister and I have rooms on the second floor. I changed into casual clothes in my room, rested for about ten minutes, and then went downstairs. I wanted to take a nap
before starting my studies . The entrance hall is right next to the stairs on the first floor, and opposite it is the door leading to the living room. 　　This location is a dead end for both sides, a frequent spot for collisions and accidents. 　　With a thud, my left shoulder bumped into my mother's chest. Although the bump itself wasn't a big deal, the force of the impact made my mother cry out, 　　"Ah!" 　　"Oh, I'm sorry," 　　I apologized sincerely, reaching out to pick up the cosmetics and other items that had fallen to the ground... 　　Mom noticed my intention and slapped my outstretched hand away. 　　Whew... that was close. 　　"Wh..." 　　Under Mom's sharp gaze, I stood there dumbfounded, unable to speak. 　　Then, Mom uttered those words, " 　　Reaching for those items was probably just an avoidance of reality." Because I didn't want to study, my brain was always trying to find excuses to do other things. 　　"...Okay, don't touch them." 　　With just that, Mom silently began tidying up the items on the ground. 　　Sigh... so annoying... this guy... Doesn't want others to touch her things? 　　Does your own son hate that much?

I looked down at my mother, who was expressionlessly tidying up the equipment, without saying a word.
"..."
An awkward atmosphere filled the entryway.
The equipment, neatly arranged, slid down and scattered all over the floor.
"...I'm going out. Make yourself something to eat,"
I mumbled, as if fulfilling a duty, and slammed the door shut.
...Yes, as you can see, this is how my relationship with my mother is.
I'm not particularly angry.
Because of Wei Weishu, I don't treat her like a traditional mother anymore.
Hmph, even if I can't communicate well with my mother, it doesn't affect my life much.
"...Sigh, when did it become like this?"
I always thought she wasn't always like this.
Oh well, oh well. Although I'm upset, I'll just let it go. I'll get back to what I was supposed to be doing.
My mother turned her back to me, hurriedly putting on her high heels.
After I finished using the toilet, I washed my hands and lay down on the sofa in the living room. I looked up at the sky, crossed my legs, and casually grabbed a weekly magazine lying on the floor.
Wait, wasn't I supposed to be here to start studying?
But a powerful wave of laziness pulled me back from my tracks.
Ah—no, no. I don't want to study.
This laziness is probably a ailment shared by all students. Like a dog doused with water, I shook myself off and stood up.
I opened the door and went into the hallway, where I found a strange object. "...Hmm?"
The object was in the corner of the entryway, right behind a shoebox. Although I hadn't noticed it before, there was indeed a thin, white box
lying there, flipping through the pages of a fighting comic book, my mind blank. My rational mind told me this wasn't the time for this, but
even if I found this object, it would only buy me a short while.
But in reality, that wasn't the case. Thanks to this object, I temporarily had no time to study.
I went downstairs to the entryway and bumped into my mother, who was wearing a black lace-up Peter Pan collar dress.
The moment I saw the object that she had pulled out of her large shoebox,
"...What is this?!"
I cried out wildly. Well, this device was completely out of place in my house.
This is... um—... what is this...?
I held the box between my fingers, examining it carefully, still unsure what it was.
It was a Blu-ray disc case, that much was clear. Because you could see these kinds of cases everywhere in music stores... In fact, it clearly
said "blu-ray disc" on the cover. But every single Chinese character on the cover still piqued my curiosity.
At this moment, I must have looked quite surprised.
The box had a picture on it, depicting a glamorous woman who looked like a teacher.
"Oh??!"
I muttered to myself, my eyes like those of a detective examining evidence at a crime scene.
Perhaps it was a distinctive feature, but the entire box was predominantly white and pink.
That didn't matter. The problem was...
"Why is this woman dressed like this?"
The woman's attire was quite provocative. The background was a classroom, but she was dressed in what looked like a swimsuit or bandages. In short, it was even more outrageous than my mother's
outfit , making one want to advise her to wear something more respectable.
A metal chain-like device extended from the bandage-like bra, and a long dog leash trailed behind the little girl's body.
Furthermore, she lightly held a rather sophisticated whip in one hand; its rough design reminded one of Whip's whip in KOF. Clearly for combat, and
unsurprisingly, when Mom noticed me standing there, her smile vanished instantly,
making one think of its terrifying purpose.
What a dangerous fellow.
7 And—
on the top of the box, written in slick Western script, was probably the title: "Lucifer in your classroom? What the heck?"
It looked quite serious, but it wasn't some incomprehensible English movie, was it?
"Something's wrong... why is there this device here?"
Just as I stood frozen in the entryway, holding "Lucifer in Your Classroom," a huge question mark rising in my mind, the door was
suddenly .
"I'm back—hey, what's wrong, Tiger? Why aren't you studying? What are you doing here?"
"Don't worry about it, Dad. Just taking a walk to clear my head."
Whew—!? I thought I was doomed.
But nothing went wrong; the moment the door opened, I ducked down and hid the device under my body.
I wonder who did this. Maybe it was a trap set to frame me. If someone saw me with this device, I'd likely be the target of criticism at the family
meeting .
My father, carrying his briefcase, looked down at me with a reproachful gaze at my strangely posed posture.
"...I just heard from the neighbor lady that psychological counseling for students seems to be quite popular lately."
"Wait, wait... don't jump to conclusions, I'm perfectly normal. It's just... oh right, I overdid it a bit today."
"You're talking nonsense. How could you possibly be under so much pressure from studying?"
That's really going too far, especially for a parent. Can't you trust your child a little more?
"No, that's not true, I'm doing well (not bad, you know that).

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My mom can't be this cute

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