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The young man known as the Scoundrel lived in a rented room in the back alley. Although he was not very tall, he had a handsome appearance and dressed decently. However, he spent his days idling around, boasting about himself, and never bothered to find a job. The people in the streets called him the Scoundrel, a title he accepted with glee. To be honest, Tong Yan didn’t even know his real name; she just joined everyone in calling him Scoundrel. He had a good rapport with her husband and often visited their home in the evenings for drinks and tea.
With a playful grin, the Scoundrel greeted her before stepping away from the window. His expression suggested he intended to come inside, so Tong Yan continued to stir her dish. After a while without seeing him, she couldn’t help but take a step to the window to look outside. Suddenly, she felt someone touch her backside, and she gasped, turning around to find the Scoundrel right beside her.
“Pervert!” Tong Yan scolded angrily. “Sneaking up like that with dirty hands! Just wait until I deal with you…”
As she raised the kitchen knife, the Scoundrel quickly stepped back. Tong Yan’s fierceness was no joke. However, in a good mood that day, she didn’t pursue him further and returned to preparing her lunch.
All of her husband’s friends acknowledged that Tong Yan was a beautiful woman, but they also found her too calculating and quick-tempered, which made them hesitant to get close to her. Only the Scoundrel, with his thick skin, visited their home repeatedly, indulging in food and drink before leaving without a care. Although Tong Yan often complained to her husband about him, she couldn’t really get angry at him. It seemed like fate had a way of balancing things out; over time, she became accustomed to his presence and ended up getting along with him quite well. This familiarity gave him the audacity to tease her without fear of reprisal, and she often treated his antics as mere jokes.
Tong Yan shot him a glare while he stood at a distance, seemingly amused by her cooking.
The Scoundrel indeed found it amusing because Tong Yan was unconsciously swaying her hips as she worked.
Leaning against the kitchen entrance with a can of soda in hand, his eyes were glued to Tong Yan’s alluring curves as she moved effortlessly about the kitchen. Her ample bosom swayed gently beneath a snug top with a wide U-shaped neckline that revealed her fair and soft skin along with a deep cleavage that was undeniably enticing.
Tong Yan rarely dressed this way, so she didn’t feel particularly cautious. The Scoundrel took full advantage of this visual feast.
She grabbed a plate and began serving the dishes from the pot when the Scoundrel seized the opportunity to step closer, leaning down to sniff the aroma wafting from the food. “It smells amazing…” he said, but his eyes were wide open and fixated on her chest without blinking. Tong Yan’s curves were pronounced; it was as if two soft mounds of dough were rising before him.
The sound of the exhaust fan hummed loudly, making it hard for Tong Yan to hear what he said. However, she could guess it was something complimentary about the food. She allowed him to indulge in another whiff before turning back to place the plate on the nearby dining table.
Now standing quite close to her, as she leaned over to adjust the bowls on the table, her graceful waist and rounded hips were captivatingly vivid—she looked every bit like a spring maiden. The Scoundrel felt an undeniable stirring within him.
When Tong Yan turned back around, he didn’t move away; instead, he just shifted slightly aside. She treated him like an obstacle and tossed more ingredients into the pan. The frying pan began sputtering loudly as oil popped out; Tong Yan took half a step back, and the Scoundrel quietly moved closer until they were almost touching. He suddenly spoke again, but with the noise from the pan drowning out his voice, Tong Yan couldn’t make out what he said and tilted her head to ask him, “What?”
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