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墨書 Inktalez
Lin Zhao Cheng suddenly opened his eyes.
The living room was eerily silent, and the morning light filtered through the gaps in the curtains, casting dappled shadows on the floor, reminding him that it was already the next day.
“...Damn.”
His throat felt as dry as if it had been scraped with sandpaper, and even speaking came out hoarse. He stared blankly at the ceiling, his mind a complete blank, like the moment one wakes up from a hangover, unable to recall how they passed out.
What happened last night?
He tried to remember, but all that surfaced were chaotic fragments of memory—wild intensity, overwhelming pleasure, his own reckless curses, and even a sensation throughout his body as if it had been blown apart…
And then? Then he lost consciousness?
“...Shit, this isn’t right.”
A chill ran down his spine as he hurriedly scrambled off the Massage Chair, only to find his legs weak and unsteady. He stumbled and fell directly onto the floor.
“Damn!”
His hands pressed against the cold tiles as he gasped for breath. He felt utterly drained, his muscles weak and limbs stiff, even experiencing a strange sensation—as if he had been thoroughly toyed with all night long.
What on earth was going on?
His gaze slowly lifted to rest on the Massage Chair that stood quietly in the center of the living room.
It was still and silent, devoid of any movement. Gone were the terrifying vibrations from last night, the rollers that had nearly crushed him; now it appeared to be just an ordinary Massage Chair, silently sitting there as if nothing had happened.
But Lin Zhao Cheng knew something was definitely wrong.
Was it him who was sick? Or was there something wrong with this chair?
He reached back to touch his neck, the muscles still faintly sore, and he could even recall the intense pressure from last night, as if it lingered within him, reminding him—this was not a dream; it had truly happened.
“...What the hell is this?”
He stared at the Massage Chair, a sense of fear rising within him for the first time.
“Grrr—”
Lin Zhao Cheng's stomach let out a thunderous growl, as if he hadn't eaten in days. He paused for a moment, realizing he couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten, and even what had happened last night felt like a fragmented dream, shattered and difficult to piece together.
“Damn...” He held his head, muttering to himself as he forced his body to stand up. But as soon as he did, a wave of dizziness hit him hard; darkness clouded his vision, and the world spun around him, as if his soul hadn't fully returned to his body yet.
He staggered toward the door, each step feeling like he was walking on cotton, his legs weak as if he had been worked over all night... No, what a strange metaphor. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind, then reached out to open the door.
“Creak—”
As the door swung open, Lin Zhao Cheng's eyes hadn’t yet adjusted to the light outside. The first thing that caught his attention was a familiar figure—
Wang Mama.
She stood outside the door, holding a plastic food container filled with who-knows-what. Through the transparent lid, he could vaguely see steam rising from it.
What struck Lin Zhao Cheng as odd wasn’t what she was holding but—
Her expression.
Wang Mama's face was as red as a ripe apple, her eyes sparkling as if she were gazing at a great person who had just set a historical record. Her lips quivered slightly, as if she wanted to say something but felt a bit shy.
“You were amazing last night...”
Her voice carried an ambiguous tremor, her hands clutching the container with a shy yet excited demeanor, her gaze filled with an indescribable admiration.
"Yelling so loudly... must be exhausting, right?"
"???"
Lin Zhao Cheng froze in place, a vein throbbing at his temple, his entire body motionless as if his brain had suddenly crashed.
The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, his eyes filled with terror that seemed to scream, "What did you just say?" But Wang Mama's expression was clearly not a joke; she was genuinely blushing, genuinely shy, and truly felt that something significant had happened last night.
Countless thoughts flashed through Lin Zhao Cheng's mind as the scenes from last night began to surface bit by bit:
The violent pressure of the massage chair, his own uncontrollable screams of pleasure, and the curses he hurled at his ancestors...
"Damn it!"
He suddenly understood—
All the wild cries from last night had been heard by this annoying woman!
Seeing his shocked and embarrassed expression, Wang Mama's lips curled into a playful smile as she leaned in closer and lowered her voice. "If you haven't recovered yet, Auntie has some hot soup ready... want to replenish a bit?"
"Shit!"
Lin Zhao Cheng's brain short-circuited on the spot. He fumbled to close the door, stammering angrily, "Y-You stop talking nonsense! Hurry back if there's nothing going on! Don't pry into other people's business!"
"Bang!"
Just as Lin Zhao Cheng was about to slam the door shut and ignore this troublesome Wang Mama, before he could fully close it, a figure suddenly slipped inside!
"Hey hey hey, why are you in such a hurry to close the door?"
Wang Mama moved swiftly, her agility surprising as she wedged herself into the gap and squeezed into his home!
"Dammit!"
Lin Zhao Cheng was startled, taking a step back in shock. He never expected that this meddlesome woman would be so eager, barging in as if she were afraid of being left outside!
"What the hell are you doing here?! Get out!"
But Wang Mama completely ignored him, smiling ambiguously as she leisurely closed the door. She turned around, her eyes scanning his home, and when her gaze fell on the floor, her smile instantly shifted to something more unsettling.
The place was a mess.
Shirts and jackets were carelessly strewn about, a belt lay half-open, shoes were haphazardly scattered at the entrance, and even socks were tossed beside a chair. The living room still carried a chaotic air, as if it had just witnessed a tumultuous "battle" the night before.
Wang Mama's face flushed bright red, her imagination running wild as strange thoughts began to surface in her mind.
"Oh... Zhao Cheng, your place is such a mess! Did you have quite an intense night last night?"
"What the hell?"
Lin Zhao Cheng was utterly confused. Just as he was about to retort, Wang Mama had already opened the plastic container in her hands, releasing a rich aroma into the air.
Inside were—
A bounty of clams, oysters, and abalone, simmered with ginger and rice wine, filling the room with an enticing fragrance and steam.
A nourishing soup?!
Lin Zhao Cheng was instantly frozen in shock, his expression stiffening like a statue as he felt his sanity slowly unraveling.
"What is this?!"
With a smile at the corner of her mouth, Wang Mama handed the soup to Lin Zhao Cheng, her tone laden with meaning: "It's to nourish your body. After such an intense night yesterday, you must be exhausted!"
Lin Zhao Cheng's lips twitched slightly, his expression filled with the thought, "What on earth are you imagining?!"
He took the bowl of misunderstood soup, a thousand curses racing through his mind as he began to question his life. Last night, he had merely been pushed to the edge by the Massage Chair, screaming uncontrollably. What did this crazy woman think had happened?!
However, Wang Mama had no intention of giving him a chance to explain.
She settled herself on the living room sofa, legs crossed, elbows resting on the armrests, her gaze laced with a hint of provocation as she leisurely scrutinized Lin Zhao Cheng, like a predator admiring its prey, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
"What's wrong? Aren't you going to invite Auntie to sit? Or are you too weak to stand now?"
"......"
"Damn."
Lin Zhao Cheng felt like his brain was about to fry.
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