Replacing a Wealthy Female Homeowner

In the dead of night, the warm yellow light cast by the crystal chandelier fell silently onto the velvet carpet. Su Wanqing, barefoot, reclined on the ivory-white Italian sofa in the living room. Her skin, freshly bathed, shone with a pearly sheen. She wore only a loose silk robe, its belt undone, revealing a large expanse of her smooth, white breasts and long, slender legs. She held a glass of warm-colored rosé champagne, from an ancient French winery known only to family members. She took a sip; the rich fruity aroma melted on her tongue, yet she couldn't taste any flavor.

Her gaze swept over the 300-square-meter penthouse duplex, designed by a top international designer, every detail of which was priceless. On the wall hung Monet's original "Water Lilies," and in the corner stood a Song Dynasty official kiln celadon vase. The air was filled with her usual perfume, a blend of iris and cedar, custom-made for her by a perfumer. Her husband was the president of a multinational corporation, constantly traveling the world, leaving her with endless wealth and an equally endless emptiness. At twenty-eight, childless and without a job, her life was like a meticulously preserved, temperature- and humidity-controlled piece of top-tier jewelry—perfect, dazzling, yet lifeless.

Her toes curled unconsciously, brushing against the smooth, cool velvet beneath her. She recalled what she had found in a dusty sandalwood box while tidying up old things in the dressing room earlier that day—not jewelry, but a roll of leather tanned from some kind of animal hide, with a strange, almost living feel, and an instruction manual of the same material, with ancient handwriting. It described a ritual of "molting" in an almost hypnotic script. By refining specific materials into a "molted skin," one person could wear it and, from a state of peak ecstasy, shed their original body, transforming into a "skin" that could be worn by another. The wearer would gradually inherit all the original owner's memories, habits, and even some emotions, for a period of one month. The molted person, then wearing the other's skin, would experience a completely different life.

An absurd and dangerous idea, like a boulder thrown into the stagnant lake of her heart, began to grow wildly.

She needed a target. Someone ordinary, simple, and easily controlled, someone who could satisfy her secret desire to spy on and dominate. Her gaze fell on the new security guard in the neighborhood.

The young man named Chen Mo was in his early twenties, tall and slender, with delicate features and a lingering student air. He wore his uniform neatly, and his gaze always darted away, especially when he saw her; his ears would involuntarily turn red. Several times as they passed through the gate, she rolled down the window and handed him her access card, her fingertips almost brushing against his palm. She could feel his momentary stiffness and panic. Pure, inexperienced, like a blank sheet of paper ready to be painted.

That's enough.

---

Three days later, in the evening, Su Wanqing deliberately chose a beige knit suit dress from CHANEL's latest season. The cut was perfectly tailored to accentuate her S-shaped curves, highlighting her full bust, slender waist, and the breathtaking curves of her peach-shaped hips. On her legs were a pair of seamless FALKE velvet stockings, their pearly matte sheen creating a flawless, flowing silhouette as she walked. Her seven-centimeter nude Jimmy Choo heels clicked crisply and rhythmically on the marble floor.

As she walked toward the security booth, Chen Mo was looking down at his phone, his profile softened by the setting sun. Hearing footsteps, he looked up and met Su Wanqing's smiling eyes. His face flushed instantly, and he stood up awkwardly, stammering, "Ms. Su..."

"Xiao Chen, are you on duty today?" Su Wanqing's voice was soft and gentle, with a touch of languidness. She leaned forward slightly, the deep cleavage of her chest faintly visible through the collar of her uniform shirt. She clearly saw Chen Mo's Adam's apple bob, and she quickly looked away.

Yes, yes.

“Perfect timing. I have a few heavy packages at home that I left at the property management office, and I really can’t carry them all by myself. Could you please deliver them to me after get off work?” She blinked, her long eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings. “As a token of my appreciation, I’ll treat you to a cup of tea. I just got some nice Jin Jun Mei tea.”

The words of refusal lingered on Chen Mo's tongue, but upon meeting Su Wanqing's eyes, which seemed to be filled with tears, he swallowed them back. He nodded, his voice a little dry: "Okay, okay, Ms. Su."

At eight o'clock in the evening, Chen Mo knocked on Su Wanqing's door precisely on time. The door opened, and a warm fragrance wafted out. Su Wanqing had changed into a casual, light purple silk slip dress, with a matching cardigan over it. Her long hair was loosely tied up, revealing her graceful neck. She wasn't wearing shoes; her bare feet were on the carpet, her toes painted a light cherry blossom pink.

"Come in, thank you for your trouble." She stepped aside.

Chen Mo carried the suitcase in and stood somewhat awkwardly in the entryway, not daring to look around. The room's luxury exceeded his expectations, and the fragrance in the air made his heart race.

"Sit down, don't stand." Su Wanqing led him to the living room sofa, then gracefully walked behind the bar in the open kitchen, elegantly boiling water, warming the cups, and brewing the tea. A moment later, she brought over a cup of clear, bright red tea and bent down to place it on the coffee table in front of Chen Mo. From this angle, the neckline of her halter top had slipped slightly, and the breathtakingly white curve of her breasts was almost completely exposed to Chen Mo's eyes.

Chen Mo's mind went blank, blood rushed to his face, and he hurriedly lowered his head, staring at the tips of his shoes.

"Try it." Su Wanqing sat down beside him, not too close, her knees, encased in stockings, almost touching his trouser legs. The scent of her body, a blend of natural fragrance and expensive perfume, permeated his nostrils.

Chen Mo hastily picked up the teacup and took a sip, the heat numbing his tongue, but he didn't care.

“Xiao Chen,” Su Wanqing’s voice suddenly became ethereal, carrying a strange magic. She didn’t know when, but she had produced a roll of “fabric” that looked exceptionally soft and had a faint ivory sheen in her hand. “You know, sometimes, a glamorous life is like an exquisite cage.”

Chen Mo stared blankly at her, somewhat confused, only feeling that her eyes were exceptionally bright, making him feel a little dizzy.

“I envy you,” Su Wanqing sighed softly, her fingertips tracing the roll of “molted skin.” “Simple, free, without so many masks to maintain. Would you like to… experience another kind of life? A life… like mine?”

"I..." Chen Mo opened his mouth, not understanding what she was saying.

“Put it on.” Su Wanqing handed him the roll of “leather,” her voice soft yet undeniable. “This is just a fun game. A month to experience my life. And your… simple job, I’ll take your place. You won’t lose anything; on the contrary, you’ll gain a lot… 'experiences' you’ve never imagined.” She emphasized the word “experience,” her eyes sparkling with a knowing look.

Chen Mo seemed bewitched. He looked at the roll of paper, then at Su Wanqing's beautiful face so close to his, her long, slender legs encased in stockings right beside him. An absurd thought, accompanied by a strong throbbing, overwhelmed his reason. His hands trembled as he took the cold, slippery roll of paper.

"What...what should I do?"

“Go to the guest room, and… press it against your skin, starting from your feet.” Su Wanqing stood up, pointed towards the guest room on the first floor, her face showing a mixture of anticipation, nervousness, and fervor. “It will ‘grow’ on its own, covering your entire body. When you feel… reaching the peak, remember that feeling, and then…”

She didn't finish speaking, but Chen Mo inexplicably understood. He gripped the leather item in his hand tightly, as if clutching a Pandora's box, and walked unsteadily toward the guest room.

The door closed gently.

Su Wanqing stood still, took a deep breath, and took out another roll of darker, rougher leather from the bar drawer—it was the "Security's Sheath" she had secretly crafted over the past few days using ancient methods and items that Chen Mo frequently came into contact with as a "guide." A resolute glint flashed in her eyes as she removed her silk nightgown and expensive seamless stockings, her beautiful body standing naked in the center of the luxurious yet cold living room.

Then, without hesitation, she attached the rough leather to her ankle.

A cool sensation instantly washed over her, followed by a tingling numbness, as if countless tiny, living things were climbing, covering, and merging with her skin. The process wasn't painful, yet it was eerily unsettling. She watched as her fair toes became rough, her skin darkened, and the shape of her feet changed… She felt the body, strength, and even vague sensory memories belonging to another young man slowly flooding in like a tide…

Inside the guest room, Chen Mo leaned against the door and slid onto the soft carpet. Following instructions, he placed the incredibly soft, ivory-colored leather on his feet. The next second, something unexpected happened!

The skin seemed to come alive, instantly warming and clinging tightly to his skin. Then, like melting latex or spreading mercury, it rapidly flowed upwards, enveloping him. Wherever it passed, his own skin felt being devoured and replaced. His leg hair disappeared, his legs became slender and long, his ankles delicate. The flowing sensation moved past his waist, his abdomen became flat and soft, while a strange fullness arose in his chest; two soft, plump mounds were coalescing and taking shape, their tips tingling with sensitive thoraxes…

"Ah..." He couldn't help but gasp, only to find his voice becoming soft and seductive. A more intense change occurred in his lower body; some important organ was shrinking and disappearing, replaced by a strange, empty, soft, and moist sensation. Intense, unprecedented sensory stimulation surged up his spine to his brain—not pain, but a strange, tingling sensation mixed with shame and inexplicable excitement.

He (or she?) looked down and saw a pair of fair, jade-like, slender, and shapely legs, with delicate, small toes painted with pale pink nail polish. His gaze moved upwards to a flat stomach, and further upwards… to high, full, snow-white breasts, their tips adorned with cherry-pink buds that trembled slightly with her rapid breathing. Silky long hair cascaded over her shoulders, carrying a rich fragrance.

Chen Mo, no, this body now completely belongs to "Su Wanqing." She (he) trembled as she raised her hand, touching her face. The touch was smooth and delicate, her features exquisitely sculpted. A completely unfamiliar female pleasure was quietly awakening and gathering in various hidden places throughout her body, especially between her legs, where a new, sensitive, and moist area throbbed with emptiness, yearning to be filled.