Suddenly, an idea popped into my head, and I quickly stepped in front of her, blocking her way. "I know you must not have danced to your heart's content. How about this—I'll dance with you. What do you say?"
"You?" Mom looked disdainful. "What can you do besides causing trouble?"
I reached out with my left hand, trying to take Mom's right hand, but she forcefully pushed it away, saying with disgust, "In front of everyone—aren't you embarrassed?"
"What's there to be embarrassed about? Besides, there's hardly anyone around. Come on, come on. It's been so long since I last danced with you."
Undaunted, I wrapped my right arm around Mom's slender waist and stubbornly grasped her right hand with my left. Mom struggled in annoyance a few times but couldn't break free, so she reluctantly gave in.
"Alright, I'll set the rhythm. One and two, two and two, three and two..."
Holding Mom's waist, I began to dance gracefully to the rhythm.
Since it had been a while since I last danced, I occasionally stepped on Mom's feet. She tried to push me away in frustration, but I held her tightly, making it impossible for her to break free.
All Mom could do was say angrily, "If you're going to dance, do it properly!"
At first, I was a bit clumsy, but as I danced, I grew more and more skilled. The two of us, mother and son, danced freely on this quiet riverside path under the dim glow of streetlights, as if no one else existed.
Mom was a little shorter than me, but with her high heels on, she was almost at my eye level.
Facing each other, our bodies were close. I could smell her rich, natural fragrance and feel the warmth of her body through her clothes, stirring a restless energy within me.
"Mom, do you remember when you and Dad taught us how to dance?"
After a moment of silence, Mom softly replied, "Mm-hmm."
"We were so happy back then."
Mom looked at me expressionlessly and said nothing.
After a long silence, I whispered, "Actually, I'm even happier now."
Hearing this, Mom's brows furrowed slightly, and her expression turned somewhat strange.
I gazed into my mother's captivating eyes, clear and bright as autumn waters, sharp yet undeniably charming. A faint sheen of sweat glistened on the delicate tip of her nose, while her full lips, moist and inviting, boasted a perfectly rounded cupid's bow. In my mind, the memory surfaced of that night when she was drunk, and I had secretly stolen a kiss.
My heart gave a sudden flutter, and as if possessed, I leaned in, gently pressing my lips to my mother's crimson mouth.
Time seemed to freeze in that instant. Mother's eyes widened in shock, then slowly filled with anger.
I felt a tingling numbness, my heart pounding wildly. I knew the consequences would be severe, yet I did it anyway.
If only this moment could last forever—how wonderful that would be.
After what felt like an eternity, Mother snapped back to reality, shoving me away forcefully before raising her hand and slapping me hard across the face.
Only then did I come to my senses, staring at her in stunned disbelief. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing rapid, and her expression was one of utter fury.
I opened my mouth to explain, but no words came out.
Mother shot me a fierce glare, then turned and walked away.
Frowning, I smacked my forehead hard, a mix of regret and an indescribable sense of triumph swirling inside me.
I wandered aimlessly around the neighborhood, too afraid to go upstairs. It wasn't until one in the morning that I finally dragged myself home.
Pushing the door open, I peeked inside. The living room was dark—it seemed Mother had already gone to bed. Tiptoeing quietly, I slipped into my own room.
Like a boy experiencing his first crush, I felt both fear and excitement, tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep.
That kiss with Mother lingered in my mind, refusing to fade.
Though we had shared affectionate moments before, none had ever made my heart soar like this.
The feeling was entirely different.
I lay awake all night, unable to sleep. Early the next morning, I got up and went to the kitchen to make breakfast, hoping this small gesture might win back Mother's favor.
When Mother woke up, she acted as if nothing had happened. Though she was cold toward me, she didn't scold or berate me.
During breakfast, I mustered the courage to serve her a bowl of porridge, saying cautiously, "Mom, I made this porridge specially for you this morning. Please try it."
"Hmm," Mother nodded coldly.
I stole glances at her, sensing something was off. She should have been furious, yet she only seemed a little unhappy.
Her dark circles were quite noticeable, though—likely she hadn't slept well last night, just like me.
Well, if that was the case, Mother wasn't as composed as she appeared.
...
After that night, the relationship between Mother and me grew subtly complicated.
Mother became distant and indifferent, yet she never mentioned what had happened that evening.
Meanwhile, my feelings for her grew stronger and stronger.
In my eyes, Mother was the very definition of perfection. Every moment alone with her felt like a gentle breeze—comfortable and harmonious. When I couldn't see her, I grew restless; sometimes, just thinking of her would make me smile foolishly.
The feelings I had forcibly suppressed within me had now erupted completely.
I knew this kind of emotion shouldn't exist, but I couldn't control myself.
I felt I was on the verge of losing control. My possessiveness toward Mother grew increasingly intense, almost to a disturbing degree. The mere thought of her laughing and talking with other men was unbearable.
Meanwhile, the fire of desire within me grew increasingly intense. I really wanted to sneak my mother's stockings and vent my urges freely, but reason told me I absolutely couldn't do that again—it would only make my mother dislike me more.
I muddled through four days in this state. One evening, as I was leaving my tutoring class, I saw my mother standing with her arms crossed, leaning against the car, watching me expressionlessly.
Today, she was wearing a white lace-trimmed chiffon blouse with black high-waisted wide-leg pants. Her long hair was loosely draped, covering half her face, while the other side was tucked behind her ear, revealing delicate earrings. She looked incredibly elegant and poised.
I didn't know why my mother was here, but I was overjoyed. I quickly ran over and asked with a smile, "Mom, how do you have time to pick me up?"
"Get in the car," she said curtly before turning to sit in the driver's seat.
I followed and sat in the passenger seat, feeling like a lovesick young man suddenly favored by his goddess—my heart was racing with excitement.
My mother didn't say a word to me. She started the car and turned in the opposite direction. Seeing that this wasn't the way home, I began to feel uneasy and couldn't help asking, "Mom, where are you taking me this time?"
Holding the steering wheel without looking at me, she casually replied, "You'll know when we get there."
I couldn't help but think of what happened last time and suspected she was taking me to see a psychologist again. My heart sank with disappointment.
Although I knew it was unlikely, for a brief moment, I had fantasized that my mother had come specifically to take me out for fun.
Really... I was overthinking it.
My mother drove into a residential complex. After getting out of the car, she led me into a unit in one of the buildings. The apartment wasn't very large—around seventy or eighty square meters—but it was decently decorated, though the furniture looked a bit old.
Once inside, my mother acted as if she were at home, showing me around. She pointed out the bedroom, checked the bathroom, and finally asked me, "What do you think? Is it okay?"
I didn't understand what she meant, but I already had a bad feeling. Frowning nervously, I asked, "What... what do you mean by this?"
Looking at me, she said, "This is an apartment I rented specifically for you. It's close to your school—just a ten-minute walk. You'll move here and live on your own."
"Mom..." My heart suddenly ached terribly, and my voice trembled with tears. "Are you kicking me out?"
"I'm doing this for your own good." My mother walked over to the sofa and gestured for me to come closer. "Come here."
I walked over mechanically. She patted the spot beside her, signaling me to sit down, then said in a serious tone, "Xiao Dong, you're a smart kid. You know why I'm doing this."
"I..." I was speechless for a long moment before pleading, "I was wrong, I really was wrong! I won't dare to do it again. Please forgive me this once."
"This isn't about forgiveness. I'm doing this for your own good."
"But... you..." I stammered, unable to form a complete sentence, before finally asking, "Will you move in here with me?"
"It'll just be you."
I knew it was impossible for my mother to move in with me, but I still held onto a sliver of hope.
"Mom, I really know I was wrong, truly, truly. Please forgive me one more time. I'll change, I really will."
"Can you really change?" Mom looked at me, her tone earnest and heartfelt. "Xiaodong, I know what your problem is, and you know it too. The reason I've been patient and tolerant with you all along is because I thought this was just temporary—that one day you would grow up and mature. But I realize now I was wrong. The more I indulged you, the more I was harming you."
"Mom, I really, really... Please don't abandon me."
Mom grew somewhat agitated. "I'm not abandoning you. I want you to be alone for a while, to calm down and think seriously. You still have a long road ahead in life. You can't keep sinking like this."
"I won't sink! I understand, I really do." I reached out to hold Mom's hand, but she jerked it away sharply.
"Don't touch me!" Mom pointed at me, warning, "Don't touch me again in the future."
I quickly raised both hands, saying loudly, "I won't touch you, never again."
Mom looked at me, her eyes shimmering as if filled with countless unspoken words. I could feel her love for me in her gaze, along with her conflict and helplessness. It hurt me deeply, like a knife twisting in my heart.
I couldn't be so selfish, making Mom live in such pain.
After a long silence, I forced down the sorrow inside me and said softly, "I know Mom is doing this for my own good. I accept your arrangement."
After a moment of quiet, Mom took out a key and placed it beside me. "I've moved all the books and materials from your bedroom here. Study peacefully in this place. You can come home once every two weeks. If you need anything, call me."
After Mom left, I sat dazedly on the sofa, as if I had lost my soul. It took a long, long time before I finally snapped out of it.
The beautiful fantasies of the past few days were nothing but my own wishful thinking after all. She is, after all, my mother. It was simply impossible for us.
And so, I lived here alone, suppressing the bitterness in my heart and burying myself in my studies. Yet a sliver of hope remained in my heart—if I could get into Tsinghua University, perhaps Mom would accept me.
Mom didn't come to see me, nor did she call or message.
I wanted to call her, but every time I picked up the phone, I hesitated for a long time and eventually put it back down.
I had to control my emotions. Clinging desperately would only make Mom dislike me more.
In the blink of an eye, it was late August. Lu Yiyi was leaving for university in the provincial capital. Because of military training, she had to depart early. We set a date to hang out for half a day as a farewell for her.
That afternoon, after washing up and getting ready, I was about to change clothes and head out when the doorbell suddenly rang.
My heart leaped with joy, thinking it might be Mom coming to see me. But I quickly realized—Mom had a key, so why would she ring the bell?
Puzzled, I walked to the door and peered through the peephole. To my surprise, it was An Nuo standing outside, repeatedly pressing the doorbell with her hand raised.
I was utterly astonished. How in the world did she find this place?
I initially thought of pretending not to be home, but the doorbell kept ringing incessantly, as if she would keep pressing it until I answered.
Checking the time, I realized I was about to be late. After hesitating for a while, I abruptly opened the door and said to her, "Stop pressing it, or you'll break it."
An Nuo, still with her hand raised, looked at me with a grin. "Brother, so you were home after all."
"Alright, stop pretending. You knew perfectly well I was home."
Annuo, gripping the straps of her shoulder bag, stepped inside and stood in the living room, looking around. "So this is where you live, huh? Hmm... doesn't look like much."
"Hey, I have a question for you—how did you know I live here?" I looked at her, puzzled.
"I have my sources."
"Sources? Who?" She didn't answer. After a moment of thought, it dawned on me. "Beibei?"
Annuo smiled without saying a word, tacitly confirming it.
I was even more surprised. "I thought you two didn't get along? How come you're talking behind the scenes?"
Annuo waved her hand dismissively with a laugh. "Oh, come on! It's not really talking—more like fishing for information. She tries to get something out of me, I try to get something out of her, and we see who can dig up more."
I chuckled wryly. "Then there's no doubt—she must have been completely fooled by you."
Annuo looked me up and down. "Brother, you're all dressed up so smartly. Are you heading out?"
"I am going out. So, please, leave." I gestured toward the door.
"What are you going to do?"
"What business is it of yours?"
"Hmm... must be a date with your girlfriend."
I gave her a sidelong glance, not the least bit surprised. In fact, it seemed perfectly natural.
"Yes, I am going on a date. So, please, leave."
"Can I come along?"
"What would you do there?"
"Be the third wheel, of course! A hundred-watt one."
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