I Hate the Bright Moon (Female-Dominant World)

A warning up front: pseudo mother-son relationship. Don't read if that's not your thing. No blood relation. Short story, won't be contracted or featured. I'm just writing what I enjoy.

Ji Yuexing, head of the Ji family, was decisive and ruthless, proud and aloof all her life. The only time she ever wept was before her late husband's coffin.

Her late husband, You Yangzhao, was bright and clear-eyed in red robes, a warm and handsome man as radiant as the morning sun. He and Ji Yuexing had vowed to spend their lives together, growing old side by side.

Her husband had been in poor health ever since giving birth to their twins. Twins were considered ill-omened, one yin and one yang, and one of them was supposed to be put to death. Her husband, already terribly weakened by childbirth, begged her to spare the children.

Ji Yuexing had always been fair and stern. But gazing into her husband's sorrowful, pleading eyes, she gave in to her selfish feelings and secretly spared the younger twin, hiding him from the clan.

She and her husband kept the child locked away in a side courtyard and raised him in secret. The elder twin was called Duzi, the only son.

But twins were born under a curse. Her husband's health rapidly declined, his life withering away. The man who had once shone as brilliantly as the morning sun finally perished, leaving no trace of life.

Leaving her alone to drag out her days in this world.

She hated her two sons.

They grew more and more alike.

The elder son's face was almost identical to her late husband's, though his temperament was entirely different: cold and proud.

That was why Ji Yuexing had been strict and distant with him since childhood, as if avoiding that familiar face.

But her younger son, who had spent nearly his entire life confined to the side courtyard, was exactly like her late husband.

In both his bright, warm temperament, like the morning sun and the moon, and his handsome face.

Exactly alike.

After avoiding him for years, she finally agreed to visit her younger son. It was only because his face, almost identical to her late husband's, let her lose herself for a moment.

She doted on him in every way, as if making up for years of avoidance and all the motherly love she had withheld.

Then, one day, after getting drunk, her younger son embraced her, buried his face in her shoulder, and spoke softly and gently.

"...Mother, if you wish, you can think of me as anyone you like."

Even as his father.

As long as it kept you from suffering.

He obediently tilted his head up and let her do as she pleased, his voice so hoarse it seemed to tempt her into falling into hell.

"Mother, please be kind to me..."

Those clear, gentle eyes were an obscene abyss, their restraint threatening to drag her down to hell.

So she fell into that abyss completely, losing herself night after night in the features he shared with her late husband.

...She had made him a substitute for her late husband.

"Zhaoyun."

She called his name in a husky voice. Looking at her handsome younger son, so gentle and aloof, she threaded her fingers through his hair and forced him to look at her. "...Tell me you love me."

Ji Zhaoyun's unfocused pupils slowly came into focus. His damp gaze settled on her face.

He reached out and touched her cheek, his fingertips trembling slightly. His voice was so soft it was almost inaudible.

"...I love you."

He was always indulging his mother.

Ji Yuexing abruptly lowered her head and kissed him, swallowing those words of love and every breath he let out.

Ji Moshen had always wanted even a single glance from her.

Since childhood, he had done his duty, remained respectful and humble, and worked hard, all so his mother could have a worthy heir.

...Even though he was a man.

Everything changed after his father died.

His mother no longer looked at him. No matter how hard he studied or how tirelessly he worked, he could hardly earn so much as a lingering glance from her.

His mother grew even more distant. No matter how well he did, she never smiled at him again. She remained forever high above him, like snow on a heavenly mountain, cold and indifferent.

...You should look at me.

He only wanted her to look at him a little longer, so he copied her manner: proud, cold, and unsmiling. It seemed like the only way to get a little closer to her.

He was already more than good enough.

Swordsmanship, strategy, martial arts, knowledge, the family business: he had perfected them all. Even the clan's harshest elders, the ones who looked down on him most for being a man, couldn't find fault with him.

He was always chasing after her shadow.

But why... why did her gaze always linger only for an instant before drifting lightly away?

...You should look at me.

Denied the recognition he craved from his mother, his long-suppressed feelings gradually twisted into a deep obsession and resentment.

Then he discovered the secret between his mother and that ill-omened son imprisoned in the side courtyard.

He stood impassively in the dim shadows, watching his mother gently tie back his younger brother's hair with her jade-like fingers.

They shared the same blood, and looked exactly alike. Why was he the only one who never received her affection?

He had desperately imitated his father to please his mother, doing everything as well as he could, yet he didn't even dare hope for her touch.

But his younger brother, the one who had brought about their father's death, could even receive her kisses.

...He was going mad.

1. Mother-son relationship, maybe pseudo-incest with no blood relation. A cold, traditional, powerful woman who heads a martial family x a gentle, aloof, soft-spoken younger son, warm as the morning sun, who indulges her and is forever compassionate + an elder son who seems cold, proud, and restrained but is actually unhinged, twisted, and brooding.

2. Substitute romance mixed with every kind of melodrama. Extremely, unbelievably melodramatic, plus a transmigrated, overpowered male supporting character. The heroine loves only her late husband for most of the story.

3. A Chinese-style mother-son relationship: they are lord and vassal, enemies, rivals in love, sisters, friends, roommates, and only mother and son when their mother lies in a sickbed. As the only son, I never had the courage to sit down and share a drink with my mother. I feared looking into her deep eyes. A mother's eyes are the thing men fear most in their lives, and her praise is what they crave most.

4. The heroine is 35, an overwhelmingly beautiful, powerful mother figure: an elegant, mature, cool, fair-skinned beauty.

5. A story about clingy sons. Both male leads are deeply obsessed with her. They're both sexually inexperienced, and there will be rivalry and dramatic confrontations. The story is brooding and claustrophobic, and their love is deeply twisted. Short story, probably won't be contracted or featured. Just let me indulge myself. A self-indulgent passion project, written for my own enjoyment. If you don't like it, please don't attack me.

Theme: dd