{Chapter: 210 Mei Yuxian in her daughter's dress}
Mei Yuxian held the pink nightdress in her hands, her expression one of evident dissatisfaction.
Lin Yuan, standing a few steps away, watched quietly and immediately understood why she looked so frustrated.
It wasn't a matter of height—Gui Qingtong and Mei Yuxian were roughly the same when it came to stature. In fact, Mei Yuxian might have been just a tad shorter due to her more delicate frame and slightly smaller build in that area. After all, girls these days developed early, and Gui Qingtong had grown up quickly.
But the real problem wasn't height.
It was proportions.
While Gui Qingtong was slender to the point of fragility—her figure light and delicate, almost as if a breeze could carry her away—Mei Yuxian had a completely different physique. She was curvaceous and mature, with full hips, a narrow waist, and a generously endowed upper body that was simply too much for the petite nightdress to handle.
Because of the inherent weakness of her body, Gui Qingtong's physique is too skinny and Mei Yuxian's too plump.
As Mei Yuxian pulled the dress over her head and began to slowly shimmy it down, it became clear that the fabric was not cooperating. It clung awkwardly to her upper half, refusing to stretch far enough to accommodate her voluptuous figure.
Lin Yuan stepped forward, a trace of amusement in his eyes. "Here, let me help," he offered.
Mei Yuxian grumbled softly but didn't object as he gently tugged the nightdress up and down, trying to ease it into place. The soft fabric resisted, then gave in, only to bunch up again as it caught against her curves. After a bit of awkward pushing and pulling, she finally managed to get most of the nightdress in place.
But there was a glaring issue—her upper body was still mostly exposed.
Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "It's stuck… I can't pull it down any further," she said in frustration, looking helplessly at the narrow fabric bunched just below her shoulders.
Lin Yuan took another glance at the nightdress and noticed a couple of small buttons near the neckline. He moved closer, unfastened the top two buttons with practiced ease, and said with a light chuckle, "Try again now."
Mei Yuxian took a deep breath and, with a bit more effort, finally managed to slide the dress over her chest and down her waist. She stood there, breathless, having won a hard-fought battle against a piece of sleepwear clearly not designed for her.
But what resulted from this struggle was nothing short of stunning.
Lin Yuan stared, unable to look away.
The tightness of the nightdress, meant to hang loosely on Gui Qingtong's delicate frame, now clung snugly to Mei Yuxian's body. It accentuated every curve she had—her narrow waist, her shapely hips, and most of all, her well-endowed chest that strained against the fabric in a way that left little to the imagination.
She had undone two buttons just to squeeze into it, and even so, any sudden movement might tear the nightdress apart. The soft pink fabric, once sweet and innocent, now had an entirely different aura when worn by Mei Yuxian.
It was no longer just cute—it was seductive, dangerous even.
"What are you staring at?" Mei Yuxian asked, catching Lin Yuan's eyes fixed on her with undisguised hunger.
He smiled. "Looking at you. S¡st£r Yuxian, you're… unbelievably beautiful right now."
Despite having spent an intense night with her just hours before, Lin Yuan's desire sparked anew. Something about her standing there in Gui Qingtong's too-small nightdress made his heart pound faster.
Her beauty was no longer cold and elegant like it often was in the business world.
Right now, she radiated a blend of innocent charm and mature seduction. The kind of allure that didn't need effort—it simply existed, commanding attention with every breath.
Mei Yuxian bit her lower lip as she noticed Lin Yuan's gaze growing hotter. Her heart skipped a beat, but she quickly looked away.
"No... Qingtong is still waiting," she reminded him in a soft voice. Then, with a subtle blush, she added, "And... I'm still sore down there."
Her voice was barely above a whisper, tinged with both embarrassment and a trace of vulnerability.
Last night had been… insane.
Lin Yuan's physical strength, enhanced by his astonishing 200-point physique, had been overwhelming. Mei Yuxian, despite being a mature woman, had simply not been prepared for the sheer stamina and intensity he had brought to their night together.
He had ravaged her again and again, each time with unrelenting passion.
And now, she was paying the price—her legs still weak, her lower body aching, and a faint burn of soreness lingering between her thighs.
Lin Yuan stepped closer again, his expression softening. He reached out gently, brushing his fingers along her hip before giving it a light squeeze, as if trying to comfort her in his own way.
"I know," he said. "Let's not push it today."
His touch was light, but understanding. For a moment, Mei Yuxian felt herself relax again, her body leaning slightly into him.
But Lin Yuan, always practical, turned and glanced at the bed behind them.
"Oh, right… What about the bedsheet?" he asked, lifting it up and giving it a slight shake.
There, near the center of the white sheet, was a stain—light red, unmistakable.
Drops of blood mixed with semen, dried now, marked the spot where Mei Yuxian had lost her virginity to him the night before. The crimson patterns looked almost like ink brush strokes on silk, resembling the delicate blossoms of a plum tree painted in traditional style.
From Lin Yuan's perspective, the sight of the bedsheet was like a masterpiece—raw, emotional, and impossible to replicate. It reminded him of the renowned painting The Ink Plum Blossom by Wang Mian, famous for its simplicity and depth. The dried drops of blood, shaped like tiny petals, were scattered like a painter's careful brushstrokes—each stain marking a moment of transformation, both intimate and irreversible.
And he wasn't the only one who felt that way.
Mei Yuxian also stared at the sheet for a moment, then let out a quiet, nostalgic sigh. Her eyes shimmered slightly, not from sorrow, but from a profound sense of something fulfilled—something she had waited far too long for.
With a gentle smile, she said, "Fold it up and put it in the cabinet. I'll pack it up properly later... Thirty years of waiting, and in just one night—it all feels like a dream."
*****
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