Chapter 4
Chapter 4
Li Muzhou and I were university classmates. We attended a normal university and majored in early childhood education.
After graduation, I entered the publishing industry and became a children’s book editor.
Li Muzhou, with his family’s support, opened a private kindergarten and served as the principal himself.
He has regular, handsome features and clear eyes. Although he is already thirty, he still possesses a refined, boyish charm-especially when he smiles. He looks clean and honest, like someone who couldn’t possibly harbor any ill intentions.
In the past, I thought this cleanliness of his stemmed from his family background, his job, and his sincere devotion to early childhood education.
Thinking about it carefully now, it’s probably also thanks to my mother-in-law’s constant pampering and care.
That evening, after finishing his video home visits, Li Muzhou quickly washed up. He flicked the duvet up and crawled in from the foot of the bed.
In this regard, he has always been very service-oriented.
But I was a bit distracted today, feeling a surge of nameless fire with nowhere to vent.
I downloaded the app my mother-in-law used to read webnovels and searched for the keywords from the screenshot. That piece of Stepmother Literature popped up immediately.
It had a rather poetic title: *Idle in her boudoir, by the little window*.
It was set during the Republican Era and told the story of a young girl who married Warlord Li to repay a debt of gratitude.
The Old Warlord was elderly and lacked the physical capacity for boudoir matters, so he could only resort to other twisted methods to torment the girl.
The girl endured the physical and mental pain in silence, occasionally suffering subtle humiliations from the old servants.
Only her young stepson ever gave her a glimmer of warmth.
Years later, the stepson became a dashing Young Marshal who galloped across the battlefield.
He had long since fallen deeply in love with Wanniang, and so the two of them began a series of mutual probings…
The story was quite popular on the site. The author was named Liujia Wugongzi and had over a hundred thousand followers. It looked like they were a big shot; the homepage was filled with all sorts of bizarre, taboo, and hardcore stories.
How should I put it?
The writing was decent, with a sort of easy-to-understand classical charm.
It was very explicit but not crude, constantly dancing on the edge of the forbidden. The sensory descriptions were incredibly evocative.
However, as soon as it got to the main event, the language became pale and weak. The atmosphere relied entirely on punctuation for effect, and the actions were crude and exaggerated, even exceeding the limits of human endurance.
It was practically an assault.
Yet, the man and woman in the story were somehow enjoying it.
Although one should judge a person with caution and not assume an author has a poor character just because their writing is licentious, one can still glean a small insight into the author’s creative intent from a single sample.
This Liujia Wugongzi was either someone with no experience who was just “fighting on paper,” or a closeted sadist.
Of course, he might also just be writing for traffic, only caring about whether the story catered to the market rather than his own need for expression.
In that case, it would be hard to judge the person by the writing.
I just didn’t know what was going through my mother-in-law’s head when she read this, or who she was projecting herself onto.
*Ding-*
A notification popped up on the app: *Idle in her boudoir, by the little window*, which you have read, has been updated.
I clicked it out of habit, but the more I read, the more something felt off.
In the latest chapter, Young Marshal Li had returned victorious from battle and met Wanniang in the backyard tea pavilion.
Wanniang peeled an apple for the Young Marshal, and the peel never broke.
Wanniang said, “Make a wish.”
The Young Marshal said, “I wish… to eat the apple… peel… with you, Sister Xiaomei.”
After some verbal back-and-forth, they actually started eating the apple peel.
One bit one end.
The other bit the other end.
Bit by bit, they nibbled their way through.
During this, the descriptions of their eyes meeting and their breaths mingling were both frustrating and satisfying to read.
However…
Peeling an apple to make a wish?
Sister Xiaomei… Sister Yumei?
An Old Warlord named Li?
Young Marshal Li?
Ah-this, this, this, this!
Why does this look more and more familiar!
Could it be… I misunderstood my mother-in-law?
She wasn’t reading Stepmother Literature; she was writing it!
My mother-in-law really is a dark horse!
I kicked Li Muzhou away, threw on my pajamas, and dashed to the kitchen. I flipped open the trash can-
Sure enough, the apple peel was. NOT. THERE!