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Chapter 8 Part 1: Suspicions and Secrets
On Wednesday morning, the sunlight arrived right on time, yet it couldn't disperse the gloom permeating Chen Fang's home.
Chen Fang sat at the dining table, her breakfast untouched.
Her face was pale, the shadows under her eyes impenetrably dark; she stared blankly at the tabletop while her fingers twisted a napkin until it was nearly shredded.
Last night, she scarcely slept. What lingered in her body was not the languor after pleasure but a cold, bone-deep fear and an unshakable nausea.
Side effects of the morning-after pill persistent nausea and spotting coiled around her like a cold serpent, reminding her of the dreadful consequences that might follow that out-of-control gamble.
What made her feel cast into an ice cave was discovering that, alongside fear, a secret thread of desire for Xiaokai's violent force still lingered in her body's depths.
The split made her want to retch.
Her phone lit up with a message from Wang Li, tinged with barely detectable anxiety:
"Today… as usual? You look awful."
Chen Fang's fingertips hovered over the screen for a long time. In the end, a wave of powerful, mingled physical discomfort and fear of losing control overrode everything. With trembling hands, she replied:
"No… I… I feel very unwell… probably the pills… the side effects are bad… let's cancel today."
After sending, the strength drained from her as she slumped back, exhaling a long breath as if laying down a thousand-pound burden but what followed was deeper unease.
Cancel?
What about Xiaokai?
Could Wang Li calm him?
And Xiaoyu… would he suspect?
She didn't know suspicion had already taken root in Xiaoyu's heart and, on this seemingly tranquil morning, broke through the soil and grew into a twisted vine.
Xiaoyu had actually been awake for some time.
Leaning behind his bedroom door with his ear pressed to it, he caught enough of his mother's conversation with Auntie Wang Li.
"Feeling unwell," "pills," "side effects," "cancel"… these fragments were cold needles stabbing into his heart.
He was not a naive boy.
Every Wednesday, his mother's carefully hidden yet unmistakable exhaustion upon returning; the occasional ambiguous marks on her neck hurriedly masked with foundation; that faint scent on her body that belonged neither to their home nor to Auntie Wang Li, a mixture of sweat and something indescribable; and when Auntie Wang Li came to "take care of" him, the inescapable shimmer in her lazy eyes, a barely visible excitement, and the body wash scent she sometimes carried so similar to the one his mother had after returning definitely not their usual brand!
A terrifying thought slithered into his mind like a venomous snake, freezing his blood: every Wednesday, his mother's so-called "community event" was actually… to be… being fucked by someone else!
And Auntie Wang Li's "care" at home was never just cooking!
The realization slammed into his chest like a sledgehammer.
Humiliation!
A tsunami of humiliation swallowed him at once!
He felt his dignity ground underfoot; his mother's gentle, virtuous image collapsed with a crash, shattering into filthy dust!
His fists clenched until the knuckles whitened; nails dug into his palms with sharp pain nothing compared to the ache in his heart.
He pictured his mother writhing under another man; imagined Auntie Wang Li in their home, perhaps even in his room… A searing blaze of betrayal and a suffocating, "cucked-by-mother" shame scorched his reason.
Yet beneath the flood of rage and humiliation, a faint, forbidden, electric tremor crept along his nerves.
A kind of… stimulation?
A morbid thrill from glimpsing an absolute taboo?
The thought surfaced only to be crushed by stronger shame and fury, but it lay buried like a seed of evil in the darkest corner of his heart.
He yanked open the door, his face as dark as a thundercloud, his eyes like poison-tempered blades that fixed on his mother slumped at the table.
Startled by the sudden opening and that icy stare, Chen Fang's heart pounded. "Xia Xiaoyu? What's wrong? You look terrible."
"Nothing." Xiaoyu's voice was iron-cold, like raw steel grating. "Just thought your Wednesday 'events' really take it out of you always so 'tired' afterward." He stressed "tired," his eyes brimming with sarcasm and rage.
Chen Fang's heart plummeted; her face went paper-white.
He knew?
How much did he know?
Terror clutched her, choking her breath.
She opened her mouth to explain, to cover, but her throat was too dry to shape words; all lies seemed pale and laughable under his all-seeing gaze.
She ducked her head in panic, avoiding that piercing look, fingers knotting her hem as her body trembled.
Seeing his mother's guilty panic her tacit confession sent his fury and humiliation to their peak.
He snorted, turned, and slammed his door; the thunderous crack echoed through the quiet home like a death knell.
Chen Fang collapsed into her chair, cold flooding her.
It's over… Xiaoyu knows… this home… completely ruined… Fear and despair rose like a cold tide to drown her.
She even forgot to warn Wang Li that Xiaoyu might know about her side too.
At Wang Li's home.
When Wang Li received Chen Fang's cancellation, her heart sank as well.
Cancel?
She looked at the carefully made-up eyes in the mirror and the silk nightgown chosen for its hint of seduction; a wave of loss and irritable frustration with nowhere to go welled up.
The fire in her body, stoked every Wednesday by "irrigation," hadn't gone out due to Chen Fang's absence if anything, the thwarted anticipation burned hotter and more impatient.
She paced the living room, skin prickling with heat; hollowness throbbed between her legs.
Her eyes slid to her son Xiaokai's closed door.
Restless with youthful energy, he hadn't slept well either last night.
She hesitated and decided not to disturb him.
Maybe… maybe he'd behave today?
She lied to herself, splashing cold water on her face to little effect.
The desire awakened by Xiaoyu's young body, once tasted, crawled through her bones like ants, leaving her unable to sit still.
Time dragged by, hot with frustration.
Night fell; lights sparkled on.
She ate a little distractedly, the TV a blur, her thoughts drifting across the city to Chen Fang's bed, to Xiaoyu's powerful body… She could recall clearly the force and heat of Xiaoyu inside her the complete fullness, the conquest by young vitality; her depths clenched hard; she squeezed her legs and sighed in torment.
To distract herself, she lay early on her wide, soft bed.
But the bed that smelled of herself felt vast and cold, offering no comfort to her hunger.
She tossed, body burning; her mind replayed every detail of coupling with Xiaoyu the obscene cries, the fierce collisions. The hollowness devoured her like a black hole.
After who knows how long, half-dreaming, Wang Li sensed her bedroom door open softly.
A tall figure, carrying the familiar heat and scent of a young male, slipped in and came straight to the bed.
Xiaoyu?
That thought seized her cloudy mind.
A rush of joy and relieved desire smashed her reason.
It's him! He's here! He couldn't resist either he craved like she did!
The certainty made her tremble with excitement.
In the dark she couldn't see his face, but the silhouette, the gait, the flooding scent of boyish sweat and hormones she was certain this was Xiaoyu!
He had come to fill her boundless emptiness!
Without hesitation, and with an urgency almost grateful, she lifted a corner of the quilt an unspoken invitation.
The figure paused, then slipped in without a second thought; the heat of his body wrapped her instantly.
Darkness magnified every sense.
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