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Chapter 7 Fallen Mother Volume Two: Continuation
She sat sideways at the edge of the bed, then reached out and grabbed Old Jiao's thick, menacing, dark rod, using a wet towel to wipe it clean.
Immediately, Old Jiao's face showed a look of utter contentment and pleasure, his mouth letting out "oh oh" sounds, as if he were an emperor enjoying Mom's service.
Yet his rod showed no sign of softening; instead, it swelled even harder. At this moment, Mom's hair was a bit messy, but she had a dreamy, alluring glow, like a ripe peach fresh, juicy, and temptingly seductive.
Mom seemed to notice the change in hardness in her hand, and her tone turned a bit cold: "Once is enough. If you do it too many times, your body won't be able to take it."
Old Jiao quickly replied, "How could that be? Girl, you don't know, my body is made of iron, strong as ever. Even seven times a day wouldn't be a problem for me."
"You sure like to brag."
"It's not bragging, it's true."
"That's enough!" Mom stood up. "Go to sleep!"
Old Jiao's face showed disappointment, but Mom had already left the bedroom.
As for me in my own room, my emotions surged like a tide, unable to calm for a long time.
I immediately opened my computer hard drive and started searching through the surveillance footage from the past week, wanting to know what had really happened.
Soon, I found the first day's footage and skipped to the part where Mom entered Old Jiao's bedroom.
On the screen, Old Jiao was lying in bed, seemingly playing with his phone. When Mom entered with a food container obviously bringing him food because of his injured leg Old Jiao immediately put down his phone and grinned, "Girl, you're here."
"Mm."
Mom placed the food container in front of him. "Eat it yourself."
"My… my hand's a bit weak."
"Weak?"
"Yeah," Old Jiao said pitifully, "Why would I lie? Really, I don't have any strength, see…"
He lifted his hand, limp and feeble, and he didn't look like he was faking. After a moment's silence, Mom picked up the food container. "Sit up straighter, I'll feed you."
"Alright!" Old Jiao's face lit up with joy, but as he sat up, he grimaced in pain his calf must have hurt.
Then Mom started feeding him, just like feeding a child. I didn't know why it felt that way after all, Old Jiao was a sloppy old man. But in reality, they really did look like that.
Old Jiao leaned against the headboard while Mom fed him. You can imagine the scene: a stunning ice queen sitting at the bedside, feeding and caring for a shabby old man. Any man would have trouble resisting such care.
Mom wore a loose gray T-shirt, but it still couldn't hide the full curves of her chest. When she leaned over, Old Jiao's gaze naturally fell to her chest.
At first, I didn't notice, and neither did Mom, but soon she realized. Yet Old Jiao wasn't embarrassed at all. Instead, he grinned and said, "Girl, your chest is really big. Even the women in our village who've had kids and nursed don't compare to yours."
"Really?"
"Of course."
Mom didn't say anything else, as if she'd turned the tables on him, leaving him with nothing to say.
Finally, the meal ended. Despite his injury, Old Jiao's appetite was great he ate a whole big bowl of rice.
Afterwards, Mom got up and left the room without a word.
The first night passed without incident.
The second day was the same nothing happened.
Or rather, Mom didn't give Old Jiao any opportunity.
But by the third day, Old Jiao was getting anxious from not finding a chance.
After lunch, Mom took the dishes out to the kitchen to wash, and Old Jiao got out of bed, limping a bit.
I saw him walk to the window and open it wide.
What was he doing?
Jumping out?
I quickly dismissed the thought.
If he jumped, so much the better. But as things turned out, his goal wasn't to jump, as his next actions made clear.
He hesitated, then with great difficulty sat on the windowsill, hands trembling, but finally managed to sit there.
Then, Old Jiao forcefully knocked over a flowerpot on the sill.
Crash a loud noise as the pot smashed on the floor. Soon, Mom hurried in and saw Old Jiao on the windowsill, looking pitiful and about to cry.
Mom's face changed. She was about to go over when Old Jiao raised a hand to stop her. "Girl, don't come over! Don't come over!"
"Old Jiao, what are you doing?" Mom stopped.
"I… I don't want to live anymore."
"Why not?"
"You… you hate me…"
Mom was startled, then asked, "Why would I hate you?"
Old Jiao wiped his eyes. "You haven't spoken to me these past two days. Isn't that hating me?"
"…"
"I have no family in this world, all alone. Even you hate me now what's the point of living? I might as well die."
As he spoke, he shifted as if really about to end it.
To be fair, Old Jiao's act was very convincing. He slowly turned, leaning out the window, one foot already outside, moving slowly but looking like he really meant to jump.
Just then, Mom shouted coldly, "Get down!"
Old Jiao shuddered. "But there's no point in living…"
"Then what would make life meaningful?"
"I…"
"Say it!"
"I'm afraid you'll be angry."
"How do you know if you don't say it?"
"Then… then I'll say it?"
"Say it!"
"Girl, I… I… I like you!"
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