Starting Off By Confessing To My Classmate's Mother

"Fang Auntie, let's look at that dustpan over there," Li Zhiyan suggested, deftly redirecting the conversation. He could see that Fang Zhiya's blush was growing deeper by the second, and he knew better than to let her embarrassment escalate further.

"Sure, Zhiyan. Help Auntie check the quality," she replied, her voice tinged with a bit of lingering awkwardness.

After meticulously picking out the best items, the two left the two-yuan store with several bags in tow, having spent a modest 75 yuan.

---

Their errands didn't stop there. After dropping off their purchases at Fang Zhiya's new place, they headed to a nearby supermarket to buy more essentials.

As they strolled through the aisles, Zhiyan couldn't help but ask, "Fang Auntie, I've noticed—you don't wear high heels, do you?"

Most women owned at least a pair, but it was clear from Fang Zhiya's demeanor that she wasn't one of them.

"Auntie doesn't like them," she replied matter-of-factly.

Zhiyan had to admit, her answer didn't surprise him. Fang Zhiya was the epitome of a traditional woman. From her conservative wardrobe to her gentle mannerisms, it was no wonder high heels were absent from her life.

---

The day continued with trips back and forth between the market and the house. By the time everything was set up, it was nearly 5 p.m.

Zhiyan finished hanging up curtains to ensure her privacy. After carefully checking that no angles allowed for prying eyes, he finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"All done, Fang Auntie. With the curtains up, you won't have to worry about anyone peeking in."

The small rented room felt suffocatingly hot, especially with the coal stove burning. Yet Fang Zhiya, ever the thrifty woman, didn't complain. Instead, she busied herself preparing dinner.

"Zhiyan, go sit by the fan and cool off. Auntie will make you some noodles," she said, the sound of boiling water bubbling behind her.

The quaint sound of the coal stove brought Zhiyan back to simpler times. He knew that in just a few years, these stoves would become relics of the past, replaced by gas or electric alternatives.

When dinner was ready, the two sat at the small, cramped table.

"Try the noodles, Zhiyan. Auntie added some of her homemade chili paste," Fang Zhiya said, smiling warmly.

Zhiyan took a bite. The noodles were simple yet flavorful, and the chili paste added just the right kick.

"This is amazing, Fang Auntie. The chili paste is incredible!"

"Really? I'm glad you like it," she said, her smile softening further.

---

As they chatted over dinner, Fang Zhiya's worries seemed to dissipate bit by bit.

"Zhiyan, tomorrow I need to go job hunting. Yaolong's school fees haven't been settled yet," she admitted, her tone tinged with frustration.

"What kind of job are you thinking about?"

"I was considering selling hand-pulled noodles," she said, glancing at him hesitantly. "Do you think that's a good idea?"

Zhiyan nodded enthusiastically. "Definitely! Auntie, your cooking is amazing. I'm sure you'll do great."

He knew how profitable food stalls could be. Though physically demanding, they could yield substantial income—often more than some white-collar jobs.

Encouraged, Fang Zhiya finally said, "Alright, I'll give it a try."

---

After dinner, the oppressive summer heat left both of them drenched in sweat.

"Auntie, why don't you wash up first? I'll keep watch by the door to make sure no one disturbs you," Zhiyan offered.

Her cheeks flushed, but she nodded in agreement.

As Zhiyan stood outside the door, he noted just how poor the soundproofing of the rented room was. He could hear faint movements inside, making him even more certain of how vulnerable Fang Zhiya would be here alone.

"Yaolong really is a useless son," he muttered under his breath. "How could he abandon his mom like this? No wonder she ended up taking such drastic measures in the past..."

---

When Fang Zhiya finally emerged, she looked refreshed but slightly flustered. "Zhiyan, you can come in now," she said softly.

The sight of her, with her naturally elegant demeanor and now fully restored 36D figure, was enough to make Zhiyan avert his eyes. He quickly gathered his things.

"I should head home now, Auntie. But remember, if you need anything, just call me anytime."

"Thank you, Zhiyan. I'll keep that in mind," she replied, watching him leave.

As his footsteps faded down the stairs, Fang Zhiya closed the door, locked it, and drew the curtains. Her heart felt heavy with gratitude and a touch of something she couldn't quite name.

---

Later that night, Zhiyan lay in bed, staring at his system screen. The one thousand yuan reward had been credited to his account, bringing his total savings to 140,000 yuan.

"Just 860,000 more to hit my first million," he murmured with a satisfied grin.

But his thoughts soon wandered to his next task: dealing with Gu Wan Zhou's ex-husband. "There's no way I'll let them rekindle their relationship. Gu Auntie belongs to me…"

---

Meanwhile, in her small, sweltering room, Fang Zhiya tossed and turned. The day's events kept replaying in her mind, particularly the absurd titles from the two-yuan store's book section.

"The Tenant's Seduction... My Infertile Wife's Younger Sister… What kind of nonsense was that?"

She tried to push the thoughts aside, but her imagination betrayed her. Unconsciously, her fingers toyed with the open collar of her blouse as she lay on her side, the fan gently blowing against her skin.

Just then, her phone buzzed. She picked it up, hoping it was her son. But the name on the screen surprised her.

"Zhiyan? Is something wrong, child?"

"No, Fang Auntie. I just wanted to check in. How are you settling into the new place?"

"I'm doing fine," she said, though the slight unease in her voice betrayed her.

"Auntie, I still can't forget how good your cooking was today," Zhiyan said cheerfully.

His words brought a small smile to her lips. "You're such a sweet boy, Zhiyan. Auntie will always remember how kind you've been."

---

Their conversation was interrupted by a strange noise from the adjacent room—a loud creak, followed by faint murmurs.

"Zhiyan, is that… someone next door?" Fang Zhiya asked nervously.

Zhiyan frowned. The noise was faint but unmistakable. "Fang Auntie, could it be… Is the auntie next door being abused?"

The thought made her blush furiously. "N-no, it's probably just... something else…"

But the creaking continued, leaving both of them too embarrassed to address what it might actually be.

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