In an exquisite and elegant study, a white jade vase on the desk held a fragrant sprig of osmanthus. Beside it lay several large, heavy English-language academic texts and several handwritten manuscripts belonging to the room's owner, along with a few books whose titles alone hinted at complexity. Behind the desk, rows upon rows of bookshelves lined the walls, filled with countless rare and collector's editions, immediately indicating the owner's extraordinary status.
The books placed directly on the desk showed clear signs of being frequently opened. The exposed pages even had meticulously placed tabs, evidence that the room's owner had genuinely studied them, complete with notes and markings, rather than displaying them as mere decoration.
On the bedside table, a highly vintage gramophone played. The needle traversed the spinning record, sending a meandering melody through the golden, trumpet-shaped speaker. The tune was low, soft, and melancholic, like endless sorrow slowly circulating.
A moment later, a pair of soft, white hands reached out and stopped the gramophone. The flowing music slowly ceased, and the room fell silent again.
"Mom, why do you always like listening to music like that?"
A young man, dressed in blue and pink loungewear, spoke, looking toward his mother, who was leaning by the window, engrossed in a book.
His mother was a strikingly tall, beautiful woman with the distinct features and large frame characteristic of European descent. In her hands, she held a thick, beautifully bound book with golden edges. The cover was simply inscribed with the English title: Jane Eyre.
It was nearly dusk. Sunlight streamed through the window, bathing the foreign traveler in a golden glow. A closer look would reveal subtle traces of gold emerging at the roots of her dark, tea-colored wavy hair—evidence of its true, original color.
Hearing her child's voice, the beautiful woman set down her book and gently turned her head, fixing her deep-set eyes on him. Her eyes were blue, like a vast, boundless ocean, embracing all things. They were filled with boundless indulgence and love for her child.
"Sweetie, come here."
The beautiful woman opened her arms slightly. The young man immediately rushed forward, burrowing into his mother's ample embrace.
The mother inhaled the scent of her child, gently stroking his head with one hand while holding him tightly against her chest with the other.
"Mph..."
The young man struggled and managed to pull himself out from between his mother's incredibly large "mountains."
"Mom, are you trying to suffocate me?"
The young man was fair, with bright eyes and beautiful features. Perhaps due to his mixed heritage, he was exceptionally beautiful, almost feminine. He had short, ear-length hair, and his eyes inherited his mother's color but with a difference—not his mother's deep ocean blue, but the bright azure of the sky. This was Lin Nan's deskmate, Liu Xiaoyu.
Close in his mother's arms, Liu Xiaoyu looked at his mother's completely exposed, ample chest. Being at home, his mother's attire could only be described as unrestrained. She wore nothing but a violet silk dress. Her high, ample breasts were entirely unbound. Through the thin fabric, two noticeable points of protrusion were visible.
Her waist was slender yet conveyed a sense of strength and resilience, clearly the result of regular exercise.
Her lower body was even more striking. Her hips were full and rounded, overflowing the confines of the chair and spilling out large portions of flesh. The violet gauze of the long dress was stretched thin, occasionally revealing glimpses of white skin. Yet, the dress's edges held the shape, creating alluring, rounded curves.
The beautiful woman held Liu Xiaoyu tightly between her legs, sitting upright and embracing him. She was vibrant and enticing, like a large, white pear.
"Mom, you're getting more and more scandalous," Liu Xiaoyu said, pointing to the large expanse of exposed cleavage and pouting.
"Why worry? It's just the two of us at home," the beautiful woman said, completely unconcerned. Looking at her child, she reached out and gently stroked his fair face.
Liu Xiaoyu reached out and cupped his mother's two heavy breasts. This revealed the full, mature quality of her body. The flesh relaxed and slumped slightly in his small hands, feeling unreal, like fresh tofu trembling slightly when placed in a frame. Liu Xiaoyu couldn't help but sigh: Wow, so heavy. It must be inconvenient to have breasts this big. Heh, glad I don't have that problem.
"Mom, why aren't you wearing a bra again?"
Liu Xiaoyu looked at the two protruding points, so prominent beneath the thin violet dress. He reached out and touched them, causing his mother's body to subtly tremble. Liu Xiaoyu frowned. "Don't you always tell me to mind my image?"
"Mama is at home, darling. Let me be lazy, okay? And it's so tight, it's not comfortable," the beautiful woman shifted restlessly. She hadn't expected a gentle touch to cause such a reaction.
"That won't do."
Liu Xiaoyu broke free from his mother's embrace, left the study, and quickly returned with a blue bra in his hand.
"Mind your image," Liu Xiaoyu shook the bra, signaling for her to put it on, and mumbled under his breath.
The beautiful woman looked at her child, couldn't help but smile, and nodded. "Alright, Mama will listen to you."
Without any hesitation, she slipped the straps off her shoulders right in front of Liu Xiaoyu, exposing her snowy shoulders and a flamboyant red mark on her shoulder blade. With another pull, a pair of large, bell-shaped breasts was exposed to the air, shaking brightly. The deep red nipples were like flower buds atop a snow mountain.
Seeing Liu Xiaoyu staring at her, the beautiful woman gently waved her hand. "Sweetie, want to come and touch?"
"No... no..." Liu Xiaoyu waved his hand, smiling as he declined his mother's offer. "I'm not a child anymore."
But the mother clearly wouldn't miss a chance for affection. She grabbed her darling's small hand and pressed it into her chest.
Compared to his mother's figure, Liu Xiaoyu's was pitifully small, and he was naturally unable to resist as his mother pulled him in.
"Mph..." Liu Xiaoyu was once again pulled into his mother's broad chest, his face buried between her firm breasts. A strong scent of milk surrounded him, instantly making him feel as if he were in a soft ocean, safe and secure.
The mother rested her round, fair chin on Liu Xiaoyu's forehead, inhaling the scent of his body. Her eyes gazed lovingly at the small figure in her arms, filled with possessiveness and greed.
"Sigh..."
Liu Xiaoyu pouted, but he couldn't do anything but allow his mother to hold, sniff, and play with him. After a long while, the beautiful woman seemed satisfied, as if she had "charged up" by inhaling her child's scent. She became energized and finally gently released her darling.
"Mph... Mama's all charged up now..."
Seeing Liu Xiaoyu's pouting lips, the beautiful woman smiled and gently tapped his small nose.
"What's wrong? Are you angry?"
"Not angry. Just put on your clothes quickly. What kind of way is that to be naked?" Liu Xiaoyu shook his head and handed the bra to his mother.
The beautiful woman took the bra and put it on.
"Ooh... it's tight..." The beautiful woman frowned slightly. Even though this was an extra-large size, it still felt a little snug.
"Help Mama, sweetie."
Liu Xiaoyu went behind his mother to fasten the clasp.
"Hoo..." The mother finished putting on the bra, pulled her long dress back up, and covered her exaggerated figure.
She was about to pull her darling in for a chat but turned around to find Liu Xiaoyu already sitting in front of a dreamy pink crystal piano. Her expression softened, and she said nothing more.
She simply knelt gently on the rug, her full hips resting slightly on her calves. Her wide hips stretched the fabric, settling behind her like a solid millstone.
Her hands were gently folded on her lap. She watched the front quietly, looking peaceful and serene. If she were dressed in a nun's habit, she would embody the most devout posture.
The copy of Jane Eyre in her hand was set aside. The tall, beautiful woman leaned by the window, silently awaiting the start of a performance.
Soon, a cheerful melody began, and Okawari's Flower Dance flowed from Liu Xiaoyu's fingertips.
His expression was focused and devout, radiating a unique brilliance and glow that was soft and gentle. He was like a devoted believer, utterly immersed. His azure eyes shone with captivating light, and his movements were indescribably elegant and nimble.
The light from the artistic lamp above cascaded down, focusing on him. His fair, slender fingers danced on the keys like butterflies with wings spread, fluttering gracefully. They blurred into dreamy shadows under the light, making him look like a beautiful, moving statue of Venus in the afternoon.
Poem of Birds, Dream of Love, Tears of Flowers, Ripples of Heart, Sea of Clouds, Song of Tears, Charm of Winter, Dance of Flowers, Scar of Heaven, Dance of Light, Ode to the Wind, Solitude of Rain.
Flower Dance was her favorite.
Carried by the melody, the sunset slowly flowed around the large, elegant, and exquisite villa like a rushing stream. With a light and passionate rhythm, the music transported both of them to a place of infinite joy—a magnificent, eternal summer day where flowers bloomed everywhere. The breeze gently lifted their skirts. Their hands were clasped tightly as they ran, chasing the swaying petals in the wind.
She felt transported back to her carefree childhood, running barefoot through her grandfather's estate. That place was the true home of her soul, holding her earliest memories, her most beautiful time.
As the music played, those beautiful memories sparkled in the beautiful woman's mind, playing like a slideshow. Looking at her child, the woman's eyes filled with even deeper love.
"You are the only tenderness I have in this world."
Liu Xiaoyu, in front of the pink, dreamy crystal piano, maintained a solemn expression. His usual gentleness was completely gone. His hands never paused, moving with the music's rhythm, completely immersed. In that moment, he possessed an incredibly strong, upward-striving vitality, like wild grass in the wind.
"Only fingers that have bled can play the world's most perfect song."
After a long while, the song ended.
Liu Xiaoyu slowly turned his head to look at his mother, who was still silently listening. She hadn't yet snapped out of it, still immersed in the music. He gently said, "Mom, you should go back to your original hair color."
The beautiful woman was slightly startled. "Why? Black hair is fine, isn't it?"
"You don't like it." Liu Xiaoyu gazed into his mother's deep eyes, feeling as if he were facing a vast, all-encompassing ocean.
The beautiful woman was momentarily stunned, then smiled.
She nodded and said simply, "Alright."