Vivienne sat at the dining table, staring through the window at Antonio’s receding figure.

With every step Antonio took, Vivienne’s originally polite smile collapsed a little more.

Finally, it gradually became complex, twisted, and even ghoul-like.

Tears of humiliation in her eyes, the fury of tightened facial muscles—the moment she was certain Antonio could no longer hear anything—it all began to pour down like a collapsing dam.

"Bang!"

First, an exquisite aluminum pot was smashed, leaving a large dent, followed by the clattering and shattering of dishes.

When the maid rushed into the kitchen, she saw that the entire cabinet had been pushed to the floor by Vivienne. "Madam... Fabian... come quickly!"

Fabian was already running. He was only a step behind the maid, rushing forward to take Vivienne into his arms.

"Darling, don't be like this. He doesn't have that man's scent on him. He doesn't. They haven't seen each other in three years."

"He does! He does!" Vivienne slumped against Fabian’s chest, her shoulders shaking. "I only said I wanted him to see your father, Terrence. I didn't say I wanted him in the house. Why did he come directly into my home... sob..."

Fabian thought to himself: Women are so strange!

You invited him yourself, and you didn't specify he couldn't enter the yard. How was he supposed to know?

You don't like him, yet you invite him into your home. Aren't you just asking for trouble?

He thought it, but of course, Fabian didn't dare say it aloud.

Terrence stood at the kitchen door, looking utterly lost, wanting to help but unable to do anything.

Fabian, holding a woman the same age as his father, could only offer Terrence an embarrassed smile.

And this smile, must not be seen by the maid.

"Are you willing to listen to more of my story?" Vivienne asked, her face pressed tight against Fabian’s chest.

"Darling, of course I am."

"Fine. Come upstairs with me." Vivienne pulled away from Fabian, wiped her tears, and walked straight toward the stairs. Passing Terrence, she added:

"You come up, too."

Father and son looked at each other. Awkward? Definitely. But as male prostitutes, the employer’s order was law, was money, was everything...

The three entered the master bedroom on the second floor. Vivienne shut all the doors and windows and threw herself onto the bed.

Fabian, a veteran of big scenes, stood calmly by the bed.

But Terrence was not. He kept his head down, his face and neck flushed red, unconsciously rubbing his thumb against his index finger.

The tears were gone from Vivienne's eyes, replaced by a sharp ferocity. She leaned against the headboard and said coldly:

"I haven't even started the story, and you're already embarrassed?"

Before meeting Evangeline, Fabian had too many things he couldn't let go of or open up about. But now, he just wanted to get this job done smoothly, hand all the money to his parents, and let his father take over his work.

Since there was a market for his father in this industry, why bother farming? Farming couldn't feed four younger siblings, let alone buy medicine for his mother.

Fabian’s bottom line now was that as long as he didn't provoke Vivienne and kept her giving his father work, anything else was acceptable.

Facing the current situation, he was already mentally prepared to be ordered by Vivienne to share a bed with his father and be humiliated by a queen.

The hard part was that his father definitely wouldn't be able to let go of his shame.

Looking at Terrence’s restless state, Fabian sighed inwardly.

Sigh. If he’d seen the wax dripping, the bondage, or being forced to take male guests, wouldn't he just jump off a building?

This is just a woman. A woman the two of them, father and son, could tie up and beat senseless.

What is there to fear?

Father?

"Fabian, take off your clothes!" Vivienne commanded. Her voice no longer held a hint of warmth.

"If I have to, I will," Fabian thought.

Starting from his shirt, then his undershirt, down to his belt, he unzipped his pants; with only his underwear left, he stopped.

By this time, Terrence had silently turned around, facing the wall.

"Yes! That is a father’s normal reaction!" Vivienne suddenly pointed at Terrence and shrieked.

She had torn her hair tie off at some point; her unkempt hair made her look like a madwoman. But her expression and tone were clearly even more insane:

"But do you know what he did? He... he tied me up in front of his son and raped me... just because his son was born frigid, he wanted to 'demonstrate' for his son! Hahaha... it’s so pathetic... To force his son to watch the whole thing, he tied the boy up, too! Sob... The two children I gave birth to are my husband’s siblings..."

Vivienne screamed and tore at her hair. Her hair tie had just been ripped off by force.

Terrence, who had been blushing with shame, turned back. His eyes were filled with pity. "Madam, I misunderstood you. Please, calm down. Tell us slowly. We are both willing to listen. Tell us everything, okay?"

But it was too late for Terrence’s comfort to work.

Whenever Vivienne spiraled, she felt like the whole world could be smashed to pieces; this was exactly why she insisted on sending her two children to America.

She opened a drawer that was usually kept locked. Inside was a family photo riddled with needle holes. She grabbed an awl and began stabbing it frantically into the face of an old man in a military uniform—the Founding General, Benedict.

She stabbed with such force that a rhythmic thud-thud-thud echoed through the room.

Terrence didn't dare move while she held a weapon. He assumed she would calm down once she finished with the photo.

But after a dozen stabs, Vivienne began smashing the lamps, the alarm clock, the telephone, and a pile of expensive cosmetics. She even pushed over the entire wardrobe.

As Vivienne dropped the awl, Terrence finally rushed over. He held her tight, pleading in bitterness.

"Madam! Do you realize? What you smashed today is enough to feed my family of seven for a whole year!"

"That family treated you badly, but you’ve changed your fate now. Isn't life good now? Forget them, please. Stop torturing yourself."

Pinned by his strong arms, Vivienne finally quieted down. She snarled at Terrence:

"Talk! I want you to keep talking!"

"Our family was actually from West River, landlords for generations. All the land within ten kilometers belonged to us. Farmers from five villages could only farm our land. But because we were a landlord family for generations, during the year of the 'Criticism against the Landlord Class,' my father was beaten to death. They confiscated all our land, and our family fled here to East River."

"In West River, we prayed we could also be part of the poor peasant class, so we could enjoy the Party’s care."

"But after becoming real poor peasants in East River, we found out that the life of a poor peasant was just too bitter."

Terrence’s voice grew soft. Finally, he slumped down onto the edge of Vivienne’s bed. Vivienne slumped down with him, pressing her head against his chest while still tugging at her hair.

"My mother died on the road during our escape... We rented eleven acres of land in East River. In a good year, that was enough for seven people."

"But later, the rent kept going up. Pesticides and fertilizer got more expensive. Selling the harvest wasn't even enough to cover the cost of the fertilizer."

"Then the children’s mother got very sick. We had to sell the grain to buy medicine. Once the grain was sold, there was nothing to eat. The four little ones would cry from hunger in the middle of the night. Fabian, as the big brother, had no choice but to go out and find work... sob..."

Terrence grew more heartbroken as he spoke, finally breaking into tears himself.

But surprisingly, Vivienne showed zero pity for the father and son. She pointed at Fabian and barked: "Fabian! Strip! Strip completely and show your father the 'filthy' work you do!"

Is this woman truly insane?

Fabian was furious, but his face remained expressionless. He took off his underwear, comforting his father in his mind: "What’s there to be afraid of? You gave birth to me and raised me; are you still afraid to see my naked body?"

Terrence couldn't hear Fabian’s internal monologue. His face turned bright red again.

Seeing that she couldn't humiliate Fabian this way, Vivienne grabbed Terrence by his collar and ordered coldly:

"Strip! Strip completely and show your son exactly what kind of 'filthy' work you're doing."

"ENOUGH!"

Where Terrence found the courage, he didn't know. He shoved Vivienne away with such force that she collapsed onto the bed with a loud THUD.

"Why humiliate a father like this? Why not go humiliate your own father? Weren't you born of a father? You animal! You crazy woman!"

Thrown onto the bed, Vivienne looked at Terrence's fierce expression with shock. Then, she burst into wild laughter.

"Hahaha! Hahaha!"

But as she laughed, she began clutching the quilt and sobbing.

It took half an hour for her crying to weaken, eventually fading into occasional gasps.

When the sobbing finally stopped, Fabian turned around. He sat facing the lily windowsill, leaving only his back to his father.

Outside, the midday sun was scorching.

Amidst the distant chirping of cicadas, Fabian thought he heard the church bell from afar. It was a call that held a strange, magnetic pull on him.

He looked up at the clear blue sky, remembering a line of poetry he had seen somewhere.

A future of ten thousand miles begins beneath your own feet...

Terrence looked at his son’s bare back, his nose stinging with an ache. This boy was only half a meter long when he was born, and now he was half a head taller than his father.

Life was too hard. Terrence realized he had not paid attention to his children's growth for a long time.

Every day was spent either figuring out how to buy grain or how to buy medicine.

He regretted it...

He regretted fleeing from Hexi to Hedong.

He heard that back in Hexi, they were practicing socialism. The Communist Party took the landlords' land but let the farmers farm it. The only thing was, the land belonged to the State.

The State?

It took Terrence half a lifetime of wandering to finally accept that land could belong to the State. That land was bought by his great-great-grandfather with a fortune and had been passed down for five generations.

Five generations of wealth ended in poverty with him. He accepted his fate.

But he regretted that he didn't stay in Hexi for the collective life. At least there, if everyone had food, his family would have food too.

Unlike here, where he became a tenant. How much rent he paid every year was decided entirely by the landlord.

...

"Hometown..." Terrence whispered in a voice only he could hear. His gaze shifted from his son’s back to the window... His hometown was right across from Port Sol. It was just across the river, yet he could not go back.

Was the old well in the village still there? Was the giant banyan tree still lush? There was a piece of land on the hillside where his ancestors were buried—was it already overgrown with weeds?

I am an unfilial son!

Father, Mother... I should not have taken the children away from our ancestral land...

As Terrence thought, his tears flowed like a spring. Afraid of being seen by his son, he quickly wiped them away with his sleeve.

Terrence’s emotions eventually settled. He heard the woman’s breathing become steady, eventually turning into a light snore. He quietly stood up, picked up the shirt from the floor, and handed it to Fabian.

Fabian shook his head and put a finger to his lips.

"Shh."

Their family could not afford another ripple of trouble. When this lady woke up, she needed to see Fabian still sitting half-naked by the window, as if nothing had changed.

A woman was harder to soothe than a baby, let alone a mentally unstable noblewoman.

Understanding this, Terrence dropped the shirt again and sat back in his chair.

About an hour later, Vivienne woke up. As she turned over, she reached out and wrapped her arms around Fabian’s waist, seemingly oblivious to Terrence's presence in the room.

She whispered to Fabian in a mumble, "Darling, why aren't you lying down?"

Fabian didn't move. "Heh. My father is still here."

"Ah? Then let him go downstairs to eat. He must be hungry." As she spoke, Vivienne grabbed the alarm clock from the bedside.

Broken?

Fortunately, the hands could still move. It was now 14:22.

Hearing this, Terrence quickly stood up. "Madam, I will go downstairs then."

After the sound of the door closing, only the two of them remained. Fabian finally turned around, lay on the bed, and pulled Vivienne into his arms.

Faintly, he let out a soft sigh.

"Why are you sighing?" Vivienne lay against Fabian’s chest, clearly sensing the subtle change.

"I’m worried about you."

"Worried about me?" Vivienne tilted her head up, becoming alert. "Do you want to leave me?"

"Madam, do you really plan to spend your whole life with a male prostitute?"

This question stunned Vivienne. Who would call themselves a male prostitute?

"When we first met, you told me yourself—you never play with a man for more than three months. We would just part ways naturally when the time came. So I was thinking, given your current state, what will happen after three months? That’s what I’m worried about..."

"Oh. Then after three months, just don't leave." Vivienne buried her head back into Fabian’s chest.

But Fabian was secretly clenching his teeth.

How is that possible? After three months, I am definitely leaving.

After a long silence with no answer from Fabian, Vivienne finally realized something was wrong. She sat up.

"Do you really want to go?"

Fabian sighed deeply. "Darling, didn't we agree to just cherish the moment?"

"No!" Vivienne would never allow a man with thoughts of leaving to stay by her side. It was too dangerous. A "romantic brain" was a curse.

Most importantly, Vivienne was in a state where she could no longer withstand being abandoned by anyone.

She had to be the one to do the abandoning.

She stood up, opened the safe in the corner, pulled out a stack of US dollars, and threw them at Fabian on the bed. ""Fifty bills. Count them."

Fabian sat bolt upright. "Darling, I’m not worth this much. It hasn't even been a week."

"You are worth it. Take it."

"Then my father..." Fabian started to speak but didn't dare to continue.

Vivienne had given him so much money that he felt ashamed to ask for more. Five thousand dollars—it was a fortune.

By now, Vivienne was already grooming herself. Her movements were frighteningly efficient. Her tone had returned to the cold indifference Fabian first knew. "Don't worry. He is him, and you are you. I will arrange your father's work as planned."

"Then this money... consider it a loan. I will pay you back when I have it. It’s just that right now, my mother really needs this money." Fabian said as he tucked the money into his pocket.

He truly intended to pay it back. He had decided to live a happy life like Evangeline, rather than being a rat that crawled into a woman’s room at midnight.

The two of them went downstairs together. Fabian entered the kitchen to say goodbye to his father, who was eating.

"Dad, I’m going home."

Seeing the bundle on his son’s back, Terrence guessed what had happened. He only urged, "Remember to buy the medicine on your way back. Don't wander around outside."

"I will..."

More chapters here:：https://www.32novel.com/novel/book/10