It was almost as if they were skin-to-skin, naked against one another. A warm, silky scent of perspiration mingled with a rich, sweet fragrance—reminiscent of fresh cream blended with ripened honey, succulent fruits, and flower petals—a scent that was both intense and yet possessed a crisp, clean, milky quality.
"Hmm…?"
Catching a whiff of this milky fragrance, Li Dong felt a sudden heat stir in his lower abdomen. A parched, restless fever swept through his entire body, and his mouth began to water uncontrollably.
It was as if this scent had awakened a deep, primal longing buried within the very core of his being.
"Aunt Yingji, please… let me go first…" Li Dong fought to suppress the urge, not even daring to breathe, terrified that the slightest slip might shatter the fragile restraints of his reason. "We need to figure out how to get out of here first."
Li Dong strained to lift his chin from the snowbank, his cheeks flushed as he urged her—otherwise, going by her usual habits, Aunt Yingji would have held him for at least a few minutes before letting go.
In this regard, Jiang Yingji is truly an intensely doting mother—even if she did choose to conceal her identity and send her son to be raised by others for the sake of his safety.
Yet, given how she behaves whenever they meet, it would be difficult for any observant person not to guess their true relationship. Realizing that this wasn't exactly the right place, Jiang Yingji finally let him go, though clearly with great reluctance.
Li Dong took a small step back, just about to breathe a sigh of relief, when he noticed that their intimate embrace had caused the fabric of Aunt Yingji's *qipao* to shift inward. On one side, the garment had slipped so far that one of her breasts was precariously exposed, with its delicate, vibrant nipple fully revealed.
The other side was even more dramatic; the fabric had slid completely away from the peak, leaving her abundant, rounded breast entirely uncovered.
The shape was like a plump, tapered teardrop—the heavy, lower curve traced an incredibly alluring arc, while the side of the breast extended all the way toward her armpit, spanning more than half the circumference of the globe.
It was the kind of volume that remained clearly defined even when viewed from behind. The sheer size was staggering, yet what made it truly perfect was its texture—unbelievably soft and supple—while still maintaining a firm, upward tilt. It was as if a bamboo shoot's tip had merged with a teardrop, combining the best qualities of both.
In contrast, the areola was relatively small—about the size of a teacup opening—with a soft, brownish-red hue that faded toward the edges into a delicate, pale cherry-pink. The delicate areola rose in a subtle, spiral-like mound, reminiscent of the stem-end of a peppercorn. It was perfectly smooth and lustrous, entirely free of any blemishes, cracks, or bumps.
Yet, the most captivating feature was the nipple itself—a deep, crimson hue with an enchanting, faint undertone of purple. It stood erect like a grape, with a distinct, tiny opening indented at its very tip.
A striking dab of creamy white clung to that opening, while a single drop of milky-white nectar hung from the base of the nipple. As the breast swayed ever so slightly, the droplet teetered on the verge of falling—an incredibly alluring sight.
So, the scent of milk hadn't been an illusion after all; it was actually coming from Aunt Yingji…
The moment this realization struck, the milky fragrance seemed to grow even deeper, sweeter, and more intoxicating. Li Dong also noticed a dampness near his lips—likely a trace he'd accidentally picked up just moments before…
Driven by instinct, he flicked his tongue out to taste it. Instantly, a rich, mellow sweetness—reminiscent of orchids and musk—permeated his mouth. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but as the milk touched his tongue, a gentle warmth stirred in his lower abdomen, and his senses felt suddenly, sharply invigorated.
However, since he hadn't actually taken a deep, hearty suckle, the sensation was fleeting—leaving Li Dong unable to tell whether it had been real or merely a trick of his mind.
"Aunt Yingji, pull it back up!"
It must have taken an immense amount of willpower for Li Dong to utter those words—he was so fixated that he even forgot to ask why Aunt Yingxian had suddenly begun lactating.
Jiang Yingxian did not immediately cover herself; she noticed that even though Li Dong had turned his head away, his gaze remained locked on that spot, and he was even swallowing hard.
"Dong'er... would you like to... have some?"
A faint, rosy flush crept across Jiang Yingxian's exquisite face. There was a hint of shyness, but it was overshadowed by a surging maternal instinct and the pride of being a mother.
After all, what mother would ever mind her son seeing her breasts?
As the "Queen of Shanghai," Jiang Yingxian is composed and mature—yet as a mother, she is not only far from "qualified," but her understanding and instincts remain stuck at the stage of a woman who has just become a mother for the first time.
While it is true that a mother might not mind her son seeing her breasts, that is generally limited to his early childhood; once he grows older, even a mother should exercise a certain degree of discretion.
Then again, as the Queen of Shanghai, it is unlikely she is entirely unaware of this social norm.
Yet, her almost unconditional doting caused her to completely overlook such considerations.
In fact, the longing gaze cast by her son filled her with genuine, heartfelt delight.
Consequently, instead of pulling her clothing back into place, Jiang Yingxian reached up and tugged at the other side. She pulled it back less than a centimeter, yet that was enough: a firm, rosy-tipped bud brushed against the fabric, and—spilling out from the abundant, overflowing flesh—the entire breast slid free. Suddenly, a wave of snow-white skin rippled, the crimson peak at its summit quivering and bouncing with every movement.
The breast was remarkably large, reminiscent of a plump, snow-white rabbit, with the erect nipple serving as its vivid, rosy eye. It was at once lush and full, yet remarkably supple and lively; even the slightest sway was enough to leave one's vision swimming in a dizzying, mesmerizing display. She embodied the combined allure of a young girl, a married woman, and a mature lady—a beauty so striking it made one's heart tremble.