Forcibly Taken by My Student’s Mother - Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Can’t Out-Flirt Her, Absolutely Can’t Out-Flirt Her!

Tao Yao waited patiently, waiting for Lu Xuelan’s next reaction.

Would she continue to test the waters? Could she not help but show her cloven hoof? Or would she end the conversation in embarrassment?

However, Lu Xuelan remained silent for only a few seconds.

Then she gave a soft “mm,” her tone carrying no discernible ripples, sounding even flatter than before: “That’s good then.”

And then… there was no “then,” as if that conversation really had been nothing more than a normal reminder from a parent to a teacher.

Tao Yao grew a bit restless and found it inexplicably strange.

What was this?

She’d dressed like that, paraded around in front of her for half the day, all just to say a few high-sounding words?

What on earth did this woman want? Was she playing a deeper game of hard-to-get? Or was she really just… dressing casually?

But who on earth dresses “casually” like that at home to meet their daughter’s tutor!

She didn’t have the patience to waste any more time. Seeing as the topic had seemingly ended and the atmosphere was both bizarre and awkward, she stood up, her movements a bit hurried. “President Lu, if there’s nothing else, it’s getting late. I’ll be heading back.”

She had to leave this strange space immediately—it was making her brain overheat and defied all common logic!

Lu Xuelan looked up, her gaze landing on Tao Yao’s face, pausing for two seconds.

“I’ll see you out.”

Tao Yao waved her hands frantically. “No need, no need. You’re too kind.”

Eager to leave, she turned to walk away, but because her movement was a bit too wide, her elbow accidentally clipped a stack of documents sitting on the edge of the desk.

With a clatter, the documents and bookends scattered across the floor, making quite a noise.

“Ah, sorry!” Tao Yao let out a frustrated low cry and quickly bent down to pick them up, feeling like a total idiot today.

Almost simultaneously, Lu Xuelan walked over and leaned down beside her.

As she moved, the neckline of the slip dress fell slightly open, and the snowy cleavage flashed before Tao Yao’s eyes. The bent-over posture completely exposed that alluring, cutout lower back, right within arm’s reach.

Tao Yao’s heart jerked violently, as if scalded by something; blood rushed straight to her head.

Almost as a reflex, with lightning speed, she scooped up everything on the floor in one go and piled them haphazardly back onto the desk, her movements so fast she nearly knocked over the pen holder as well.

“S-sorry. President Lu, I can do it myself, please don’t…”

She kept her head down, not daring to look again. The tips of her ears were a bleeding red, and her voice was trembling. She could feel Lu Xuelan’s breath very close; the soft fabric with its lace edges almost brushed against her arm.

Lu Xuelan’s movements paused in mid-air, and she slowly straightened up. She looked at Tao Yao’s panicked and helpless state—looking as if she wanted to vanish on the spot, but her face remained expressionless.

“It’s fine,” she said calmly, her voice even sounding a bit… nonchalant?

As if the one who almost suffered a wardrobe malfunction wasn’t her.

Tao Yao couldn’t stay a second longer. She gave Lu Xuelan a hurried nod and practically sprinted out of the study and down the stairs. She didn’t even bother to greet Su Xiaowan, who had poked her head out into the living room with a curious face; she went straight for her shoes and burst out the door as if a monster were chasing her.

“Crazy… the world has gone crazy…”

Back in the room, Lu Xuelan watched Tao Yao’s fleeing back disappear down the stairs and didn’t move for a long time. She reached out, her fingertips lightly brushing the thin, somewhat tight black lace strap on her shoulder. Her brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, as if she weren’t used to this level of restriction and exposure.

At that moment, the study door was quietly pushed open a crack.

Su Xiaowan poked half a head in, her eyes wide with disbelief as she looked at the unprecedentedly “cool” outfit on her godmother. Her mouth was open wide enough to fit an egg, and the phone in her hand almost hit the floor—

Did she just see something she wasn’t supposed to?

“G-godmom…” Su Xiaowan’s voice was airy. “Godmom, are you very hot? Dressing like this.”

“Get back to your books!” Lu Xuelan turned, throwing a warning “eye-dagger” over.

Su Xiaowan instantly pulled her head back, slammed the door with a bang, and fled faster than Tao Yao. “I-I’m going to study right now!”

Lu Xuelan walked to the window and pulled back a sliver of the curtain. Watching the figure on the mountain bike hurriedly departing outside the villa, her fingertips tapped lightly against the cold glass.

“Straight?” she repeated in a low voice. Her tone betrayed no joy or anger, but her gaze grew increasingly deep.

Tao Yao pedaled her mountain bike hard all the way back to the old residential area where she rented.

The heat on her cheeks was dissipated slightly by the wind, but her heartbeat was still a bit messy, and those images in her mind wouldn’t go away. She locked her bike downstairs and went up, trying her best to banish those inappropriate images from her head.

She took a deep breath and sat back at her computer, trying to quickly finish the draft she needed to update today.

But the cursor on the screen blinked indifferently, as if mocking her restlessness. Tao Yao tried to find that sense of immersion she usually had when writing, pulling her thoughts back into her story—the female protagonist was about to take the initiative and create a carefully planned accidental encounter; the atmosphere needed to be ambiguous and hazy, with undercurrents surging between the push and pull.

But as her fingers landed on the keyboard, the sentences she typed were bone-dry, like dehydrated plants, devoid of life.

“She walked closer slowly, stopping when she was only a step away from him, lifting her eyelashes…”

Stop, that’s not right.

Tao Yao deleted the line. She closed her eyes, trying to conceive the look the female lead should have at this moment—it should be three parts testing, three parts nervous, and four parts “words left unsaid,” carrying a hint of cautious temptation.

But what surfaced in her mind instead were Lu Xuelan’s deep eyes looking at her—a dangerous undercurrent hidden beneath the calm.

“Tsk.” Tao Yao rubbed her temples in frustration and forced herself to keep writing.

“A faint fragrance floated in the air, unclear if it was the scent of her perfume or the smell of flowers outside the window…”

Stopped again.

Fragrance?

That cold yet rich woody scent seemed to linger around her nose again, mixed with a very faint, soft warmth of a mature woman, invading her senses without refusal. That was the scent on Lu Xuelan—powerful, unique, highly recognizable, and different from any fictional scent she had ever written.

Tao Yao collapsed onto the desk in defeat, her forehead pressing against the cool surface.

It was over. she couldn’t write it.

The ambiguous atmosphere and teasing details she usually handled with ease were completely outclassed by a person who had just given a “practical demonstration.” Every movement she wrote, every line of dialogue, seemed forced and childish compared to Lu Xuelan’s “seamless” performance tonight.

“Lu Xuelan… that repressed old woman…” she grumbled angrily in a low voice.

Inappropriately, that thrilling scene in the study flashed through her mind again, and she even automatically filled in the sensation of what it would have felt like if her fingertips had touched the other’s skin if she hadn’t dodged…

It scared her so much she shook her head violently.

“Where is she ‘unable to chase people’? She’s clearly a veteran of the field! A seductive vixen! And the kind that’s cultivated into an old spirit!”

The seemingly casual but step-by-step calculated removal of the coat, the deliberate pacing and displaying herself in front of her. And that final bend-over that nearly gave her a nosebleed…

One link after another, it was practically a textbook-level “fishing” operation. It was more sophisticated than any teasing plot she had ever written, and the key was that the person involved was sporting a “frigid” face.

The contrast, the tension…

Stop!

Tao Yao, what are you thinking? She started to feel inexplicably guilty.

That moment of distraction, panic, and dry mouth just now had been very real. It had nothing to do with sexual orientation; it was a pure combined assault of visual, olfactory, and hormonal input. That woman knew too well how to use her advantages, and she did it so naturally, as if it were only right.

“Fake-proper! Hypocrite! Old vixen!” Tao Yao couldn’t help but curse hatefully.

“Just you wait. On the day you can’t hold it in and actually confess, see if I don’t rip that mask of yours off!”

After cursing into the empty room, the frustration in her chest didn’t dissipate much. She sat up straight again and glared at the document; those few lines looked wrong no matter how she viewed them. A “screw it” thought, like a stubborn bubble under the water, bubbled up uncontrollably and burst into a chaotic ripple.

Since that bit of ambiguity between the male and female leads couldn’t be squeezed out for dear life… why not just take a different path? Write something… more exciting?

When this thought first appeared, it was just a spark, but in the next second, it swept through her rationality like a prairie fire.

Write GL. She’d write exactly this, a GL story with Lu Xuelan as the prototype!

An elite female CEO who looked cold, abstinent, and meticulous on the outside—looking at everyone like they owed her eight million. Wearing the most formal suits, saying the harshest words, but on the inside? Ha, the inside was the exact opposite setting—craving, surging undercurrents, both flirty and wild, just tightly sealed away by a layer of upbringing and pride that even she herself might not have truly faced.

Then, arrange for a character to tear open this layer of disguise. A young, vibrant character with a hint of reckless wildness—perhaps… a bit like herself? No, someone cooler, bolder, and more at ease than her. Teasing her, poking her, challenging her, using all sorts of unexpected ways to force out the panic beneath her cold face and the throb beneath her composure, finally… completely crushing her defenses, making her eyes turn red, her breathing messy, and her logic dissolve until she… begged for mercy while crying.

Just imagining this setting gave Tao Yao a strange surge of pleasure, a mix of revenge and creative impulse.

Calling me a gold digger? You old pervert, trying to seduce me? Hypocrite!

Tao Yao gritted her back teeth, her fingertips tingling slightly with excitement and a certain eagerness to try. Fine, aren’t you good at acting? Aren’t you doing all this “twisting and turning” in private? I’ll write this side of you in, and let thousands of readers see it!

But in the end, her remaining rationality pulled her back, bringing her around from this strange delusion.

“Tsk.” Tao Yao grabbed her hair into a mess in frustration and stood up abruptly.

She couldn’t keep thinking about it; if she did, she really wouldn’t get any real work done today. She went into the bathroom and splashed her face with cold water, trying to wake herself up.

The next two hours of the writing process were like a form of torture. Every sweet interaction felt like chewing wax; every exchange of looks seemed pale and weak. It was as if a deep conflict had arisen between her brain and her fingers—the former constantly hijacking the feed with high-definition clips of “The Lu Xuelan Theater,” while the latter could only mechanically output mediocre and soulless text.

Intermittently, mending and fixing, deleting and rewriting.

By the time she finally scraped together the minimum word count requirement for a chapter, Tao Yao was physically and mentally exhausted, without even the strength to check it once. She looked at those sentences on the screen—sentences that couldn’t even move her, and a huge sense of frustration welled up.

What kind of garbage is this?

But she no longer had the energy or the mood to revise. Her mouse moved to the “Publish” button and paused for three seconds. Tao Yao closed her eyes and took a deep breath; as if giving up on a terminal case or throwing off a heavy burden, she clicked down hard with her finger.

“Done,” she murmured to herself, her voice lacking even half a bit of the joy of completing work, only a deep weariness.

The document minimized automatically, and she caught a glimpse of the time in the bottom right corner of the computer.

Almost 7:00 PM.

Time to get ready to head out. She had another part-time job tonight—boxing coach at the gym.