Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Early the next morning, “Idle in her boudoir, by the little window” was updated yet again.
If I only suspected before that my mother-in-law was writing “stepmother” smut and wasn’t entirely sure of Liujia Wugongzi’s real identity, well, now I had concrete proof!
In the previous chapters, the lowly maid didn’t have a name. Whenever she was mentioned, the author used vague labels like “the lowly maid,” “that girl,” “this servant,” or “this wench.”
But in this update, the lowly maid finally got a name.
She was called Qi Shui.
My mother-in-law really is a master at naming characters!
Just look at that name-it’s rustic, lazy, and very “lowly.” It has no beautiful meaning whatsoever, and it points directly at me!
My name is Hong Miaomiao!
If you break down the characters of my name, “Miaomiao” literally consists of seven “water” radicals. Qi Shui-Seven Waters!
In the new update, my mother-in-law followed up the “apple skin” incident with a brand-new way to play with sexual tension.
In the story, Wanniang was bedridden after being tormented by the Old Warlord. Right when she was at her most miserable, the Young Marshal suddenly started calling her “Mother” again.
In a fit of pique, she decided to actually play the part of the matriarch. She demanded the Young Marshal perform the traditional morning and evening salutations, and insisted he personally brew her medicine and feed it to her, acting the part of a filial son.
Feeding her the medicine alone was enough to wear a man down.
Wanniang made Qi Shui help her sit up so she could lean back against the maid’s chest. The Young Marshal knelt by the bed, feeding her one spoonful at a time.
It couldn’t be too hot, nor could it be too cold. He had to taste every single spoonful himself before bringing it to Wanniang’s lips.
Sometimes, Wanniang would intentionally cough the medicine out, forcing the Young Marshal to take a handkerchief and wipe her mouth. Every time his hand passed over her lips, she would gently bite his fingertip through the fabric of the handkerchief.
And Qi Shui could only watch them flirt with wide eyes.
By the time they were done, more than half the bowl of medicine ended up on the handkerchief.
It made Qi Shui tremble with rage.
I furiously posted a comment: “Author, can you please act like a human being?! This is so immoral! Where is your sense of ethics?!”
Other readers replied to me:
“If you want ‘morals,’ take a hike!”
“What’s a moralist doing in a stepmother smut story? Scram, scram, scram!”
Argh!
It’s making “Qi Shui” tremble with rage!