Mei acted at once. To avoid the enemy, she took only Zhu, left quietly, without the box. That night, foes razed the Song household. None survived but Mei and Zhu, who escaped early.
Later, they learned Weiting was behind it. Mother and son swore revenge. But the dead would not return.
Yue's cruel death hurt Mei more than losing Jueren. Hearing Zhu mention her, Mei saw her daughter's small body in that coffin. Grief consumed her. Tears filled her eyes.
Beside her, Zhu wept.
"Yue and Father died horribly. Seeing that today, I could not hold back. I must have revenge, I cannot wait years. Only the Blood Shadow Skill can help. So I did this to you," Zhu said, tears thick.
"Even if not for revenge, I am an unfilial son. I failed Father, you. I know this is wrong, but I want you. Please, let me have this."
Sobbing, Zhu undid his pants. They fell, his hard cock stood tall before his mother. Outside, the storm roared.
Mei's tears flowed. She made muffled cries, struggling for one last fight. But it was useless. Her vision darkened as Zhu draped his shorts over her face, blocking sight.
"Mother, this is my fault. When you face Father, the judges of hell, our ancestors, say you were forced. I am the beast who defiled your purity. I alone will burn in hell," Zhu said.
His body shook, from emotion, from guilt. He was not fearless. The day's horrors, the thunder's wrath echoed in his mind. He knew this was a sin beyond redemption. Yet he pressed on.
He grabbed a wine jug. He poured some between his mother's legs, wetting her tense, dry pussy. He drank the rest, steeling himself. He climbed onto the bed, lifted her hips gently, positioned himself. With fear, reverence, he took a deep breath. Then he thrust, sliding his cock, born from her, back into her pussy.
"Mmph, mmph," Mei's muffled cries sounded.
It was done. Though she could not see, the sensation hit her. She shook her head, sobbing through the cloth, tears streaming.
Despite her fight, her purity was gone. Was mother-son incest her fate?
Thunder boomed. Zhu worked fiercely, a farmer tilling hard earth. His thrusts were deep, steady, driven by youth. He held her slim waist, keeping her steady. No skill guided him, only raw force, thrusting in, pulling out, thrusting again.
The cloth over her face made Zhu feel a strange thrill, as if he were taking her lifeless body. Yet the act of fucking his mother sent fire through his veins, a forbidden joy he could not resist.
"Mother, Mother, you are mine now. Forever, mine alone," he gasped.
Her body arched like a fish on a flame. Her curves trembled, sweat beaded. Her pussy, slick with wine, burned as his hot cock rubbed inside. The friction sparked a bitter need. Amid shame, a strange calm settled.
Did she not crave this moment?
To shed guilt, share forbidden joy with her son, was that not her heart's wish?
If not, why did she feel no anger as he violated her?
His cock was so warm. Each clumsy thrust lifted her to bliss, sharper than Jueren ever gave. She sank into it, unable to pull away.
Admit it. Her son was not the only sinner. She was a lustful mother, craving his cock. The one who deserved heaven's wrath was her, hiding behind virtue.
In her mind, Jueren's face appeared. Mei choked out another apology, but different.
Forgive me, Jueren. Your wife cannot guard her heart. We raised too perfect a son. Only we remain. If I do not love him, who will? , she thought.
Casting restraint aside, Mei drowned in their forbidden act. She felt like the parade's girl, strapped to a wooden donkey, her pussy pierced by a cruel rod. But unlike that girl, Mei rode her son's real, throbbing cock. Unlike that girl, Mei deserved this. She was a shameful woman, swaying her hips to sin's rhythm.
"Mother, dear Mother, I love you. You are the best mother," Zhu cried.
At the peak, Zhu's voice broke like a child's. He gripped her breasts, lost in the thrill of defiling her. With a groan, he could hold no longer. His cum surged, filling her pussy to its depths.
Twelve years of seed returned to the womb that made him. For a twelve-year-old, the act drained him. He collapsed onto his mother, panting, speechless.
Zhu had not thought beyond this. To master the Blood Shadow Skill's three forms needed six months. Would he keep his mother bound to this bed? The skill required mutual effort. If she refused, forcing her like a corpse for months meant nothing.
But tonight was a breakthrough. Even the purest woman, once taken, shifts in her heart.
And beyond all, to love the woman he cherished, this made it worthwhile.
"Mother, I am sorry," Zhu said.
He lifted the shorts from her face, his voice soft with guilt. But as he moved, a numbness struck his underarms. His body froze, unable to move.
He cursed his mistake, using a weak drug. The drug was crude, boosted by wine's fumes. Their fierce lovemaking burned it away with sweat. How could it hold a woman skilled in martial arts?
He recalled how a mere touch years ago enraged her. Now, having stolen her purity, what could he say? He sighed, closed his eyes, awaited death.
But the killing blow never came. She pushed him off, sat up. A soft, warm hand grasped his softened cock.
Zhu's eyes flew open. A cloth fell over his face, blocking sight. Then undergarments, damp with her juices, his cum, were stuffed in his mouth.
In darkness, Mei's hand worked his cock. Her touch was gentle, kneading his flesh.
A boy's stamina was fierce. In moments, his cock stood proud, hard, eager.
"It has been years since I saw it. How did it grow so lovely?" Mei said. She studied her son's cock.
It matched his scholar's face, pale, clean. A twelve-year-old's cock, not too long, like a perfect toy, charming.
Hard to believe this thing brought her such joy.