28: Chapter 28 is just an ordinary person.

While Leng Qingxuan and An Ran were discussing countermeasures against the "Rational Monster" with grave expressions.

The master bedroom lock made a "click" sound—the sound of it being locked from the inside.

Immediately after, the heavy curtains were drawn shut, completely sealing off the cold moonlight and the noisy world outside.

Huang Mao sat in his ergonomic chair and let out a long, heavy sigh.

He glanced at the "study materials" window he had just closed on his computer screen, then at the crumpled tissue on the table, his eyes filled with a worldly, detached weariness.

So-called "Rational Monster"?

So-called "terrifying self-control"?

"Sigh."

Huang Mao casually tossed the paper ball accurately into the trash can by his feet, a self-deprecating smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He wasn't some clay Bodhisattva in a temple, nor was he some peerless master who had practiced the "Sunflower Manual."

A normal male in his early twenties, healthy, with punctual morning wood, and even described as "energetic" in his medical reports—how could he possibly have no reaction when faced with that level of "in-your-face output" from two top-tier beauties in the bathroom?

Just now in the bathroom, when An Ran's defenseless back trembled under his hands, when Leng Qingxuan's warm, damp palm pulled his hand onto her chest.

The string in his brain called "reason" had actually long since snapped like a plucked cotton string.

If he hadn't reacted quickly at that moment, if he had let An Ran see it too...

Tonight's plot would likely have veered violently in a rather wrong direction.

"Whew..."

Huang Mao leaned back in his chair, feeling the restless flame within him gradually extinguish after a perfect solo flight, replaced by the calm and peace known as "sage time."

This was his way of survival.

Reality is not a novel, manga, anime, or even more so, adult videos or hentai doujinshi.

Once you're an adult, many things cannot be thought about just with your lower body.

Whenever he thought of Leng Qingxuan, whose voice was like an AI mother, Huang Mao felt as if he had been doused with a bucket of liquid nitrogen, instantly freezing any romantic thoughts into ice shards.

That kind of woman was simply the nemesis of succubi, the crusher of desire.

As for An Ran...

Although whenever he saw her face, his brain automatically conjured up the silly image of her following behind him as a child, snatching his spicy snacks.

Although he said that he couldn't feel anything wrong towards her.

But this girl had indeed grown into a stunning beauty; she had curves in all the right places, and some places were even quite unfair.

Regardless, she was different from when she was a child, in every aspect.

"It's better this way."

Huang Mao stretched, listening to the satisfying crack of his joints, feeling pleased.

No need to guess women's thoughts, no need to deal with complex romantic battlefields, no need to worry about family ethical tragedies caused by not being able to control his lower body.

As long as he had a top-spec computer, a few goofy online friends to game with anytime, and spent his days surfing the net and playing games.

When he was done playing games, he would write those novels with abstract plots and broken logic that could at least earn him a full-attendance bonus.

This kind of ordinary life was, for him, something he wouldn't trade even for a god's existence.

The brothers on the 'Abstinence' forum were right: 'Lust is a blade above the head.'

As long as I take care of myself, no one can kidnap me with beauty.

Just as Huang Mao was preparing to open Steam to suffer a bit in the Elden Ring DLC after a long time, to consolidate his Daoist heart—

"Knock, knock."

Two soft yet clear knocks resounded like thunder in the silent room.

Huang Mao's hand jerked, and the mouse cursor drew a strange jagged line across the screen.

He stiffly turned his head to look at the closed door, his Adam's apple bobbing subconsciously.

"Huang Mao, are you asleep?"

Leng Qingxuan's voice came from outside the door.

The voice wasn't as cold as usual; instead, it carried a hint of deliberately lowered softness that made one's eardrums itch.

Why was she here so late?

Could it be that she didn't get enough scrubbing in the bath earlier and wanted a return service?

Or was it... did she want to pull some outrageous stunt again?

Huang Mao took a deep breath, his brain racing.

Step one: Clean up the scene.

With lightning speed, he kicked the trash can into the deepest part under the desk, ensuring the tissue ball would absolutely not be in sight.

Step two: Fake the scene.

He quickly closed all webpages that might cause misunderstandings, opened Bilibili, and randomly clicked on a newly updated free anime episode.

Then he took off his headphones, switched to external speakers, and adjusted the volume to a level that "could prove I was watching a video without being too loud."

Step three: Adjust his state.

He picked up the room-temperature water on the table, took a big gulp, cleared his throat, and tried hard to make his voice sound like a shut-in obsessed with anime, not a hollow youth who had just finished a hand-crafting session.

"Ahem... not yet."

Huang Mao shouted towards the door, his tone incredibly steady, "Just watching a new anime, what's up?"

The silence outside the door lasted for about two seconds.

"Yeah, something's up."

Leng Qingxuan's answer was concise, yet it carried an undeniable firmness, "Can I come in?"

Huang Mao glanced at the time in the bottom right corner of the screen.

Late night, 23:25.

At this hour, a lone man and woman, alone in a room.

If it were someone with less self-control, they would probably already be imagining their future children's names.

But who was Huang Mao? He was a saint who had just experienced the baptism of the sage.

"Fine, the door isn't locked, open it yourself."

Huang Mao sighed, stood up, walked to the door, reached out to unlock the latch, and then pulled the door open.

The moment the door opened, a faint scent of body wash rushed towards him.

It was the brand he usually used, the scent of lemon verbena.

But at this moment, this familiar scent mixed with the young girl's post-bath fragrance, creating a wondrous chemical reaction that became exceptionally alluring.

Huang Mao focused his eyes, his breathing stuttering slightly.

Leng Qingxuan at the door had changed into pajamas—that black oversized T-shirt of his.

The wide neckline hung askew on her shoulder, revealing a large expanse of snow-white skin and delicate collarbones. The hem of the T-shirt barely covered the tops of her thighs, swaying with her movements, inviting wild thoughts.

But that wasn't the most lethal part.

The most lethal part was that this girl, who knows what kind of madness had gotten into her, had clearly taken them off before the bath, but now she had actually put those thin, over-the-knee black stockings back on!

The black stockings tightly wrapped around her slender, straight calves, indenting slightly above the knees to create a fleshy curve, forming an extremely strong visual impact against the dazzling whiteness of her thighs.

Absolute Territory.

This was textbook-level absolute territory!

"...What is this look?"

Huang Mao resisted the urge to let his gaze wander downward, locking his eyes firmly on Leng Qingxuan's face, trying to use sarcasm to hide his inner turmoil.

"Dressing like this in the middle of the night, are you preparing to attend some new fashion show?"

Leng Qingxuan ignored his teasing.

Her eyes, usually as cold as water, now seemed to hide two dark fires, staring straight into Huang Mao's eyes.

She didn't speak, just sidled into the room, and then backhanded—

"Click."

Closed the door.

Even locking it behind her.

This series of actions was fluid, as skilled as if she were the owner of this room.

Huang Mao's heart skipped a beat.

"Hey, hey, let's talk properly, why lock the door?" Huang Mao subconsciously took half a step back, leaning against the computer desk. "This is a decent bedroom, I don't provide any special services."

Leng Qingxuan still didn't speak.

She walked step by step to Huang Mao's bed with those long legs wrapped in black stockings.

Then, in Huang Mao's shocked gaze, she turned around and sat down elegantly.

The mattress sank slightly under her weight, making a faint creaking sound.

She rested her hands by her sides, tilted her head slightly, and looked at Huang Mao, who was standing by the desk.

Her long black hair scattered over the black T-shirt, black stockings wrapped around her legs, only her face and the exposed thighs were glowing white.

This extreme black-and-white contrast, under the dim light of the desk lamp, exuded an almost eerie charm.

"Huang Mao."

Leng Qingxuan finally spoke.

Her voice was very light, yet it carried a sense of resolute determination.

"I want to touch you."

Huang Mao: "...???"