1: Chapter 1 Rebirth

This book contains some adult content; minors and female readers should read with caution.

...

"Little Song, wake up. It's raining outside."

In the darkness, a soft, sweet voice called out.

His consciousness returned, and Song Yang snapped his eyes open.

Before him was an exquisite heart-shaped face with fair skin and full lips.

Especially those eyes—clear and gentle, staring at him without blinking.

His gaze shifted downward; the woman had an hourglass figure and a full bust, exuding the charm of a mature woman from every pore.

His muddled mind gradually cleared. He remembered—he had been reborn!

Carrying memories of the post-apocalypse, he had returned to the time before the disaster.

And the woman before him was a client from before the apocalypse—Zhang Xinmei.

Seeing that Song Yang was alright, Zhang Xinmei's furrowed brows finally relaxed.

"Little Song, you sure can sleep. A full eight hours, and no matter how I called, you wouldn't wake up. Any later and I really would have called for an ambulance."

Outside, the rain lashed against the window, accompanied by heavy peals of thunder.

Song Yang composed himself, forcibly suppressing the horrific memories in his mind.

"Thanks, Sister Xin. I might just have a bit of low blood sugar lately."

Song Yang forced a smile. He was originally a real estate agent and was supposed to discuss a house purchase contract today.

Seeing him finally react, Zhang Xinmei breathed a sigh of relief.

She leaned forward, unintentionally revealing a glimpse of her pale cleavage.

A faint scent of perfume wafted over, and her rosy lips curled into a meaningful arc.

"Little Song, we've known each other for several years now. A verbal thanks isn't enough."

She reached out a fair, tender finger and lightly tapped Song Yang's shoulder.

"Don't forget, I just put a deposit on a River-view Luxury Flat through you last month. Over 1.6 million! Tell me, as a top-tier salesman, how do you plan to properly thank your benefactor?"

"Sister Zhang, once the rain stops, I'll treat you to a meal to properly thank you."

Zhang Xinmei's lips curled up, her eyes shimmering with emotion.

"Sure, Little Song, that's sweet of you. But there's no rush for dinner. You just woke up, take it easy first."

Zhang Xinmei went to the water dispenser, poured a cup of warm water, and handed it over.

Song Yang took the cup, the warmth spreading through his fingertips. He took a few sips, and his throat felt much better.

After sitting for a while, Song Yang prepared to leave. The apocalypse would arrive in two weeks; he had to prepare as quickly as possible.

"Hey, wait!"

Zhang Xinmei hurriedly spoke to stop him. She walked to the window, lifted a corner of the curtain, and pointed at the torrential rain outside.

"Look at this rain. If you go out now, you won't be able to catch a cab at all. It's not safe."

"I have plenty of rooms. It's fine if you stay another night. It's better than heading out in this downpour."

Song Yang hesitated. With the apocalypse approaching, every bit of physical energy and time saved was crucial. Catching a cold in the rain at this juncture was definitely not a good thing.

And so, he stayed until ten o'clock at night.

By now, Zhang Xinmei had somehow changed into a tight-fitting black lace camisole nightgown.

She sat quietly opposite the sofa, playing with her phone.

When Song Yang looked up, his gaze was instantly captivated.

Her full breasts looked even more alluring against the black lace, and her long, pale legs were so slender and straight they made one's head spin.

Noticing Song Yang's gaze, Zhang Xinmei wasn't angry; instead, she felt excited.

As a beauty-conscious woman in her thirties, being noticed by a young man proved she had maintained herself quite well.

"Could Little Song be interested in me?"

Zhang Xinmei stared at Song Yang's expression, her heart fluttering.

She knew well that in their twenties, men were like powder kegs—one spark and they'd go off.

Besides, this young man was quite handsome.

What woman wouldn't like a man who was both young and handsome?

She really had been lonely for too long...

So much so that she had even stolen a feel of his abs while he was asleep.

They were hard!

They felt great!

Entering the bedroom, Zhang Xinmei looked at herself in the vanity mirror.

For some reason, from the first moment she saw Song Yang, she felt this boy was very likable.

Today, when Song Yang got close to her, it made her heart race even more.

She didn't understand why she was reacting this way, but she couldn't deny that her body craved contact with this young man.

Her husband had died young, leaving her without even a child.

She had once seen a doctor about this issue, and the doctor only told her never to practice abstinence.

For a woman in her prime, it would be abnormal not to have desires.

A woman is like a flower; only when she is nourished can she bloom more beautifully.

Thinking of the doctor's words, a long-absent flush rose to Zhang Xinmei's face, and her eyes grew misty.

Looking at her perfect figure in the mirror, her skin comparable to a young girl's, and her vivid red lips.

Zhang Xinmei felt dizzy, and her body was burning hot.

After lying back on the sofa for a while, she looked at Song Yang.

"Little Song, I have a fever. Could you carry me back to the bedroom to rest?"

Without thinking much, Song Yang picked up the young woman and headed toward the bedroom.

Her body was light, yet incredibly soft.

Zhang Xinmei took the opportunity to wrap her arms around his neck, her jet-black hair falling over Song Yang's shoulder with a faint fragrance.

Her red lips were very close to his ear, brushing against it repeatedly as Song Yang walked.

The warm breath and soft touch caused Song Yang's heart to race involuntarily.

He gently placed the beautiful woman on the bed and tucked her in.

But just as he turned to leave, Zhang Xinmei suddenly reached out and grabbed his wrist.

"Don't go, I'm scared."

Zhang Xinmei's frail voice was like a feather, gently plucking at Song Yang's heartstrings.

Song Yang was already a bit restless from carrying her. This time he lost his balance and involuntarily leaned forward, falling into Zhang Xinmei's embrace.

Zhang Xinmei's soft body pressed tightly against Song Yang.

The next moment, Zhang Xinmei's arms looped around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace.

Her eyes were full of passion, her burning gaze seemingly capable of melting anyone.

"Do you think I'm sexy?"

Their eyes met, and Song Yang's breathing grew hotter. He could clearly feel the temperature radiating from Zhang Xinmei and the thumping of her heart.

"Sister Zhang, I sell houses, not myself."

"Smart mouth."

Zhang Xinmei giggled, one hand gently caressing Song Yang's cheek, her fingertips tracing over his skin, leaving a tingling sensation.

"Do you think I have a good figure? Do you want to touch it?"

The woman's voice grew bolder, and her gaze looked as if she wanted to devour him.

"I do, but only if you agree."

Song Yang replied with a smile, his fingers lightly brushing over the woman's slender waist.

"Hmph, in your dreams."

Zhang Xinmei gave a soft huff, her eyes hazy and her red lips bitten tight, as if she were hesitating over something.

"I really can't do anything with you. Go get that little blue box under the coffee table in the living room. If you bring it, I'll let you touch."

Song Yang knew that this battle was unavoidable today.

He wasn't exactly a saint himself.

But when he brought back a box of Durex condoms and pushed the bedroom door, he found it wouldn't budge. It seemed to be locked from the inside.

Realizing he'd been played, Song Yang shook his head with a bitter smile.

He had to admit he was still too green, having been led around in circles by a mature woman.

Helpless, he could only return to the guest room to sleep.

Deep into the night.

After an unknown amount of time, the bedroom door quietly opened.

Zhang Xinmei walked out, her figure swaying.

She had changed into an even sexier nightgown—a silk slip dress that clung tightly to her body, revealing her perfect figure without reservation.

One strap of the nightgown had slipped halfway down, revealing her fair, rounded shoulder and deep cleavage.

"Just this once, just once..."

Zhang Xinmei murmured to herself, biting her red lips as her heart struggled frantically.

Reason told her she shouldn't do this.

It was too dangerous and too crazy; after all, she was a married woman.

But the craving deep within her body was like a flame, incinerating her reason and leaving her unable to extricate herself.

She came to the guest room where Song Yang was and lingered for a while.

Coincidentally, the guest room door handle actually turned, meaning the door wasn't locked.

"Just once, it should be fine, right?"

Zhang Xinmei gritted her teeth, as if having made a monumental decision.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The guest room was dimly lit. Thick curtains blocked out the lightning outside, leaving only the sound of rain.

The young man was lying on the bed, sprawled out and fast asleep.

His sleeping posture wasn't elegant—it was even a bit comical—but it gave Zhang Xinmei a strange sense of peace.

Zhang Xinmei tiptoed to the bedside and carefully sat down on a nearby chair.

Her movements were very light, for fear of making a sound and waking the sleeping boy.

At this moment, the woman's eyes were filled with complex emotions: desire and confusion.

"Little Song, are you asleep?"

She called out softly, extremely nervous, her voice trembling.

The person on the bed didn't react; his breathing remained steady and even.

Zhang Xinmei leaned closer and called out again.

"Little Song?"

Still no response.

After confirming Song Yang was truly asleep, the woman began talking to herself, as if explaining or trying to convince herself.

"I didn't lock the door to reject you; I was afraid I wouldn't be able to control myself."

"Young people have strong bodies; once or twice shouldn't be a problem, right?"

"Seeing you today, I feel like I've lived my life in vain until now."

"You don't need to treat me to dinner. You can repay me in other ways."

Her voice was very low and soft, as if afraid of being heard, yet also as if afraid of not being heard.

Seeing no movement on the bed, the woman fell silent for a long time, seemingly engaged in a final internal struggle.

Finally, the woman's eyes shimmered like water, her breathing quickened, and her chest heaved violently.

She stood up, tied her hair into a simple ponytail with a hairband, and pinned up the long hair that had been scattered over her shoulders.

Soon, accompanied by the thunder, rustling sounds began to echo in the room...

Outside, the rain fell even harder.

Inside the room, however, the temperature continued to rise, enough to melt anything.