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When the system initially described Fang Zhiya, it emphasized her deeply traditional nature.
At first, Li Zhiyan didn't think much of it. Only when she chastised him with "Men and women should not touch" after he tried to hold her hand did he truly understand. Fang Zhiya wasn't just a woman with old-fashioned values—her entire demeanor embodied the reserved ideals of a bygone era.
Adding to the challenge was her unique sensitivity, making even the simplest interactions fraught with tension.
"Well, I'd better go check on Aunt Fang," Zhiyan muttered to himself.
"A beautiful woman like her, alone and vulnerable at night—it's hard not to worry. Besides, she's the class president's mom. I can't just leave her like that."
He glanced at his chat with Teacher Jiang Xian. It had gone quiet.
Zhiyan: "Teacher Jiang, are you still there? Did you fall asleep? I was just about to head to bed myself."
Jiang Xian: "Sorry, I was talking to your teacher. That man is insufferable. Honestly, thinking about how he treated you before makes me want to hit him."
Zhiyan: "It's alright, Teacher Jiang. You should rest soon. Staying up late isn't good for your skin."
Jiang Xian: "Look at you, such a thoughtful child."
Zhiyan: "You'd better rest too. Maybe we'll fall asleep at the same time."
Jiang Xian: "Oh, you cheeky little thing! Alright, goodnight."
---
Jiang Xian closed her laptop, her lips curving into a faint smile.
She didn't take Zhiyan's words too seriously. After all, he was just a boy, barely eighteen. Surely, his comment was nothing more than an innocent remark about sleeping at the same time.
Returning to her room, she switched on the air conditioner and lay down. Her gaze lingered on her long, pale legs as she mused over her current life.
Her forties should have been the prime of her life, yet here she was, grappling with loneliness. She had once dreamed of having a second child, but that dream now felt impossibly out of reach.
"Am I truly past the point of ever having a second child?" she murmured to herself.
---
In the next room, her husband, Yan Zhengjin, heaved a sigh of relief.
"Good thing I escaped quickly," he muttered, wiping his brow. "If I'd stayed, she'd have drained the life out of me!"
Seeking solace, he turned on his computer. His fingers instinctively navigated to a familiar website filled with... questionable content.
The site was a remnant of his confiscation days. Back when Zhiyan and Li Shiyu had passed a note in class containing the URL, Yan had furiously berated them for being so inappropriate.
But curiosity had gotten the better of him. That night, he had opened the site on his own computer, only to find... that these kids were onto something.
An advertisement blared through the speakers:
"Legal online casinos in Macau! Live, sexy dealers waiting to deal your cards!"
Yan hesitated, his interest piqued. He knew online gambling was a scam, but the allure was undeniable.
"One hundred yuan. Just one hundred. It's just for fun, right? It's not like I'll get addicted..."
---
Meanwhile, in her own room, Rao Shiyun lay wide awake.
Her thoughts replayed the day's events over and over.
That boy—Zhiyan—was incredible. Fluent in French, skilled in programming, and a master of marketing. His explanation of the "information cocoon" earlier had left her utterly awestruck.
Unlike the pretentious ramblings of that net café owner, Wang Shengli, Zhiyan's theories weren't just talk—they were proven by the sudden success of his net café.
"He's going to be extraordinary," she mused.
For older women, talent often held far more appeal than appearances, and Rao Shiyun was no exception.
More than once, she had considered asking Zhiyan to be her godson. But every time she brought it up, he deflected, insisting on remaining "just" her junior.
And now, it seemed... he liked her as more than just a senior.
She couldn't forget the kiss they had shared—how his lips sought hers, driven by pure, unconscious instinct.
The thought unsettled her.
Earlier today, he had refused Wang Shengli's offer of 20,000 yuan. Though she hadn't said it aloud, she knew the reason—it was because of her.
Li Meifeng's question echoed in her mind: "If you had to choose between your husband and Zhiyan, who would you pick?"
"I said I'd remarry my husband," she whispered to herself. "But... if I do, will Zhiyan stop talking to me altogether?"
The very idea made her heart ache.
---
"Mom, I'm heading out. I need the e-bike."
Zhiyan poked his head into his mother's room to inform her of his plans. As a self-proclaimed mama's boy, he never left the house at night without telling her.
"Alright," Zhou Rongrong replied, her tone casual. "The keys are in the shoe cabinet. Are you coming back tonight?"
Rongrong suspected her son had grown up in more ways than one. Perhaps he was meeting a girl—or maybe even a woman.
"I'll be back later. You get some rest, Mom."
---
The streets were quiet as Zhiyan rode through the city. Compared to the lawlessness of 2024, the early 2010s felt relatively safe.
But even so, the thought of a lone woman out at this hour didn't sit well with him.
When he arrived at the park, it was already past ten. Under the faint glow of a streetlamp, Fang Zhiya sat on a bench, tears streaming down her face.
Her ankle throbbed painfully with every movement, a cruel reminder of her earlier misstep. She had tried calling her son, but he hadn't answered. Now, despair weighed heavily on her shoulders.
The distant hum of an approaching e-bike snapped her out of her thoughts.
Her heart raced. Could it be a thug? A criminal?
The dimly lit park, shrouded in shadows and silence, suddenly felt far more sinister.
The bike drew closer, the faint sound of its engine breaking the oppressive stillness.
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