"Yang Zhurou was the definition of a virtuous woman—diligent, kind, and a masterful cook whose meals were nothing short of perfection. Her son, Xu Ruizhi, adored her cooking so much that he would race home from school every day just to help her with the chores. Seeing his filial devotion, Yang Zhurou felt a deep sense of relief, believing that her fifteen years of hard work as a mother had finally been rewarded.

'Slow down, no one is going to take it from you,' she said with a gentle smile. Her skin was as white as snow, contrasted by her silky, raven-black hair. Her delicate features—watery eyes set in a slender face, a petite nose, and full, rosy lips—were framed by a graceful neck and elegant collarbones. Despite her modest white shirt and denim shorts, her body told a different story: a slender waist, long legs, and a curvaceous silhouette that radiated the mature charm of a woman in her prime. At thirty-one, Yang Zhurou didn't just look like a mother; she possessed a ripeness that could drive any man to distraction."