Chapter 60: Meeting the Parents

Chapter 59: Meeting the Parents.

A few minutes later.

The atmosphere in Wen Yicong’s apartment living room was delicate.

Shen Yulan and Wen Zhenhua sat on the sofa, a cushion’s width between them.

Their backs were straight, hands resting on their knees.

They exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of severity and confusion.

Clearly, they were struggling to process what they had just seen at the supermarket; they had barely managed to react at all.

Peach, however, was oblivious, burying her head in her food bowl, her tail tip swaying lazily, occasionally letting out a satisfied meow.

Wen Yicong crouched beside Peach, opening a new bag of cat food to pour into the bowl, taking the chance to stroke Peach’s head.

She was just like her cat, acting as if nothing had happened.

Yet, if one looked closely, one could see her fingers trembling slightly.

In truth, Wen Yicong was anxious to the point of collapse.

Sometimes, one had to marvel at the wonders of fate.

She had only gone to the supermarket with Mo Shaoshang, and yet she had bumped into her dear mother and father.

What kind of miraculous coincidence was this?

Now she was in a bind.

Her mother had met Mo Shaoshang before and knew he was the employer from her time as a home-based rehabilitation therapist.

So, how was she to explain why she was being so intimate with this employer, even hugging and holding him in full view of everyone?

If she told the two elders directly that she and Mo Shaoshang were a couple, would it be too sudden?

She didn’t want to shock Shen Yulan into fainting.

Wen Yicong’s mind was a chaotic mess of tension and anxiety.

Outwardly, however, she forced a calm demeanor, deliberately slowing her movements as if focused entirely on feeding the cat, while actually stalling for time to think of an excuse.

Once she finished feeding Peach, she no longer had an excuse to stay on the floor.

With no choice, Wen Yicong stood up, clapped her hands, cleared her throat, and looked toward the sofa with feigned nonchalance: Mom, Dad, we have tea and juice at home.

What would you like to drink?

Shen Yulan paused, her gaze lingering on her daughter’s face for a moment before replying: Anything is fine.

Alright.

Wen Yicong responded casually, then turned and walked into the kitchen, her pace as hurried as if she were fleeing a disaster.

She filled the electric kettle with purified water, pressed the switch, then leaned her hands against the counter, lowered her head, and took a deep breath.

It is fine.

Cross that bridge when we come to it.

She had not done anything shameful; she was just in a relationship.

Even if the object of this relationship had a special status, the timing was delicate, and the scene her parents had witnessed was awkward...

Well, maybe more than just a little awkward.

As she stood there lost in thought, a steady, powerful, and very familiar set of footsteps sounded behind her.

Wen Yicong turned her head slightly.

Mo Shaoshang walked in slowly, his expression faint, holding a box of tea leaves with the Zhuyeqing label.

He had already taken off his overcoat, leaving only a black sweater, making him look refined and restrained.

Is this the one? he asked.

Ah, yes.

Wen Yicong snapped back to reality and nodded haphazardly.

I only have this tea; it was a gift from Principal Zhang Yao...

As she spoke, she reached out to take the tea, lowering her voice to offer some reassuring advice: You go out and sit down first; I will bring the tea out once it is brewed.

My parents probably have a basket full of questions for us.

Do not be nervous; if there is anything you find inconvenient to answer, just push it off onto me.

Mo Shaoshang looked at her, a flicker of something unusual in his eyes.

Meeting his gaze, Wen Yicong blinked, fearing he did not believe her, so she patted her chest and repeated solemnly: Really.

Leave the answering to me.

I will protect you.

Mo Shaoshang’s eyes were bottomless.

In his thirty-plus years of life, he had always been the absolute master.

Standing at the top of the food chain, overlooking the world, strategizing, and wielding power with a flick of his hand.

He was accustomed to having everything under control, accustomed to bearing everything alone, and accustomed to burying all his emotions in corners known to no one.

He had never needed anyone’s protection, and no one had ever said to him, I will protect you.

And now, this soft, harmless young girl, who seemed like a little deer, looked him in the eye and said those words with such gravity.

It was as if this were a trivial, natural thing.

In an instant, Mo Shaoshang’s heart felt wrapped in a soft, warm glow, aching and swelling.

On the other side, seeing the man remain silent for so long, Wen Yicong grew suspicious.

She waved a hand in front of him and tentatively called out: Enzo Rothschild, what is wrong?

Nothing.

Mo Shaoshang curled his lips toward her and glanced at the kettle; the water had already boiled.

He opened the upper cabinet and took out two clean, transparent glass cups.

Let me do it.

Seeing this, Wen Yicong hurriedly reached out to grab the cups.

In her mind, even though he had come to her for refuge, he was still a guest.

There was no reason to let a guest do the work.

Who knew that Mo Shaoshang would gently block her with his hand and continue on his own: When it comes to brewing tea, I might be better at it than you.

Wen Yicong’s movements stiffened for a moment.

Indeed.

Mo Family Manor had such a large tea room, and this man was well-versed in the art of tea.

But... she stammered, my parents are not outsiders.

Just pour some hot water and let the leaves steep.

You do not need to be so particular.

Mo Shaoshang’s tone was calm: It is precisely because they are your parents that I must be attentive and particular.

Wen Yicong was stunned.

As your underground boyfriend, I have always been unable to see the light of day, with no proper standing.

He turned his gaze toward her, his tone casual yet profound.

If I do not earn some favor and gain the approval of my parents-in-law, I am afraid I will never be able to go public.

Hearing this, Wen Yicong’s face turned slightly red, and she had no choice but to pull her hand back and let him be.

Mo Shaoshang’s movements while brewing tea were elegant.

Warming the cup, adding the tea, pouring the water—every step was fluid, neither hurried nor slow.

The moment the hot water entered the glass, the tea leaves tumbled and unfurled in the water, rising and falling like a miniature dance.

His fingers were long and clearly articulated, his posture while holding the cup upright and composed.

Even an ordinary glass cup seemed to turn into a priceless piece of porcelain in his hands.

Wen Yicong stood by and watched intently, feeling it was a feast for the eyes, as if watching a professional tea ceremony performance.

A moment later, Mo Shaoshang brought the two cups of brewed Zhuyeqing out of the kitchen.

In the living room, Shen Yulan and Wen Zhenhua heard the movement and subconsciously looked up.

The young man was tall, his aura cold and sharp, his features deep and three-dimensional.

He walked from the kitchen toward them with poise, placed the two cups of tea on the coffee table, and then slightly curled his lips, saying warmly: Uncle, Auntie, please have some tea.

His aura was naturally imposing, extremely captivating.

It was a temperament cultivated through years of immersion in power and wealth.

Even though he was dressed casually and stood in a room of less than a hundred square meters, that innate sense of nobility and pressure was ever-present.

Shen Yulan and Wen Zhenhua were shaken, subconsciously smiling back at him and responding politely: ...Oh, good.

Thank you.

Mo Shaoshang sat down on the single sofa opposite them, then leaned forward slightly, hands clasped on his knees, his gaze calm as he looked at the two elders.

Uncle, Auntie.

He spoke again, his voice level, introducing himself: My name is Mo Shaoshang, I am thirty years old, and I was previously the global CEO of the Mo Group.

I am currently between jobs.

Mo Shaoshang’s tone while saying this was very flat, without a trace of embarrassment or concealment.

Wen Zhenhua and Shen Yulan exchanged a look and did not speak.

I am currently dating Wen Yicong.

Mo Shaoshang continued, This matter should have been reported to you both sooner; it was my lack of consideration, and I hope you will forgive me.

After he finished, he bowed slightly, his posture humble and solemn.

The living room was silent for a few seconds.

Wen Zhenhua picked up his teacup, took a sip, put it down, and tentatively spoke: Mr.

Mo...

Just call me by my name, Uncle.

Good, Shaoshang.

Wen Zhenhua looked at him, his gaze carrying the scrutiny of an experienced person toward a younger generation: I saw the news not long ago.

Is your Mo Group... encountering some trouble?

Mo Shaoshang did not evade, not even for a second.

Yes.

He answered, open and calm, The Mo Group is indeed currently facing a major crisis.

Assets have been seized, and the company has entered bankruptcy proceedings.

This matter has far-reaching implications and may not be fully resolved in the short term.

Wen Zhenhua frowned upon hearing this.

But, Mo Shaoshang said each word clearly and firmly, the current predicament is only temporary.

Please believe, Uncle and Auntie, that I will handle everything as soon as possible, and I will never let Wen Yicong suffer any grievances by being with me.

When he said this, his gaze looked straight at Wen Zhenhua and Shen Yulan, his blue-black eyes showing no signs of dodging, only a certainty that made it impossible to doubt and easy to believe.

Wen Yicong listened from the side, her heart moved.

She could not help but step forward, stand beside Mo Shaoshang, and reach out to gently hold his hand.

The man’s hand was long and broad, clearly articulated, his skin a cold white.

Wrapped in her two small hands, it felt like a piece of warm, cool jade.

Then, Wen Yicong took a deep breath and faced Shen Yulan and Wen Zhenhua: Mom, Dad, I believe in Mo Shaoshang.

I believe he will resolve all crises, and I am willing to walk with him and overcome these difficulties together.

I hope you can understand, support us, and stand with us.

As her words fell, her heart thumped.

Her heart beat rapidly, as if it were about to jump out of her chest.

Her mother had said before that Mo Shaoshang’s family background was too superior, and coupled with his cold and stern temperament, he carried a natural sense of alienation that made him seem difficult to get along with.

Now that they had heard about his family’s bankruptcy, she feared they would have even more reservations...

Wen Yicong waited anxiously.

However, to her surprise, after a long silence, Shen Yulan picked up the teacup on the table and took a gentle sip.

Then she set the cup down, looked up, and looked at the cold young man in front of her.

We understand the situation.

Shen Yulan paused, a kind smile gradually appearing on her face: Shaoshang, is there any dish you like to eat?

Since you and Uncle are here today, I will cook tonight, and we will have a simple meal together as a family.

The moment the words fell, the situation took a turn for the better.

Wen Yicong was stunned, then overjoyed, looking at Mo Shaoshang in surprise.

Mo Shaoshang smiled.

The curve of his lips was faint and clear, softening his handsome and aloof face.

He replied: Whatever Auntie makes, I like.

Hearing this, Shen Yulan beamed, saying repeatedly: Good, good.

Then I will just cook whatever; if it is not tasty, please do not mind. * After deciding to have dinner together, Shen Yulan took action and began to plan the evening menu.

After pondering, she sent Wen Zhenhua to buy groceries.

Wen Zhenhua agreed readily, but as he reached the entryway, he seemed to remember something, paused, turned to Mo Shaoshang, and greeted him: Shaoshang, are you bored staying at home?

Why not come out for a walk with me?

Hearing her father’s words, Wen Yicong was shocked.

She hurriedly grabbed Wen Zhenhua’s sleeve, pulled him aside, and lowered her voice: Dad, where are you going to buy groceries?

Is it the wet market?

I am buying groceries; where else would I go if not the wet market?

Wen Zhenhua looked confused.

Hearing this, Wen Yicong’s mind automatically conjured up the environment of the wet market.

The wet ground, the shouting voices, the crowded people, and that strange smell mixed with fishiness and raw meat...

Wen Yicong’s brow furrowed.

Glancing secretly at the man changing his shoes at the entryway, she bit her lip, tugged at Wen Zhenhua’s sleeve again, and continued: Dad, I will go with you.

She was afraid Mo Shaoshang would not be used to such a noisy and mundane environment.

No one knows a daughter better than a father; how could Wen Zhenhua not see what his daughter was thinking?

He pondered for a moment and was just about to nod when a male voice spoke first.

You stay home and keep Auntie company.

Mo Shaoshang walked to Wen Yicong’s side, gently held her hand, and said with a reassuring tone: I will go with Uncle.

Wen Yicong moved her lips, wanting to say something but stopping.

In the end, she could only watch her father and Mo Shaoshang leave together.

Turning around, she saw Shen Yulan already busy in the kitchen.

Wen Yicong walked in, took a small stool, placed it next to her mother, and sat down to help pick the vegetables.

The leaves were green and lush, making a crisp sound when snapped.

She picked for a while before finally being unable to resist asking: Mom, what do you think of Mo Shaoshang?

Shen Yulan did not stop her movements at all, saying casually: He is quite good.

Wen Yicong felt puzzled and asked suspiciously: Before, when he had billions in assets, you said he was hard to get along with and had a mediocre impression.

Now that the Mo Group is like this, why do you think he is good instead?

Shen Yulan put the picked vegetables into a colander, wiped her hands, turned around, and looked at her daughter.

People live a lifetime to withstand the storms, to be able to bend and stretch, and to have the courage to start over at any time.

She said lightly, her words full of the clarity that comes with middle age and the passage of time, Mo Shaoshang’s family encountered such a big change, yet he can still remain calm and believe he can revitalize his family.

Just from this point, it is already quite rare.

Wen Yicong realized.

It turned out that what her mother valued was never a person’s family background, but a person’s posture in the valley, and whether they had the courage to stand up straight and fight fate after being knocked down.

Afterward, the mother and daughter chatted about neighborhood gossip and family matters.

In the relaxed and pleasant atmosphere, Wen Yicong’s mood completely relaxed.

Suddenly, Shen Yulan remembered something and turned to look at Wen Yicong: By the way, Yicong, now that you are with Mo Shaoshang, what about Dr.

Pei...

Hearing this name, Wen Yicong felt nauseated.

She interrupted Shen Yulan, her tone rarely carrying a hint of anger: Mom, let me tell you, Pei Xizhou is not a good person.

Shen Yulan frowned in confusion: What do you mean?

He lost his parents at a young age and was raised by Mo Shaoshang’s grandfather.

But he actually repaid kindness with enmity and harmed the Mo Family like this!

Wen Yicong clenched her fists, filled with righteous indignation, Do not let me see him again, or I will definitely scold him to death.

After hearing this, Shen Yulan’s brow also knitted, and she could not help but get angry, muttering irritably: That is truly too evil; one really cannot judge a book by its cover.

What a waste of the meal I treated him to.

At dusk, the sky over the old city was dyed a rose color.

The silhouettes of the high-rise buildings in the distance were layered, and the streetlights turned on one by one, casting the shadows of the plane trees onto the sidewalk, mottled and light, swaying with the evening breeze.

Dinner was prepared by Shen Yulan, home-cooked and sumptuous.

The dining atmosphere was also exceptionally warm.

During the meal, when the mood was right, Wen Zhenhua even brought out the sorghum liquor he had bought from the wet market and invited Mo Shaoshang to drink with him.

Mo Shaoshang naturally would not dampen the elder’s spirits.

He accepted every cup Wen Zhenhua poured, one after another.

Wen Yicong was a little nervous at first, but seeing Mo Shaoshang’s stable emotions and unchanging expression throughout, she guessed his alcohol tolerance was considerable and gradually set her heart at ease.

The elderly couple was used to being frugal and thought the underground garage fees were too expensive, so every time they came to Wen Yicong’s place, Wen Zhenhua would park the car outside the residential complex.

Today was no exception.

After dinner, the two young people walked the old couple out of the complex.

Shen Yulan waved the box of strawberries she had scavenged from the fridge and laughed: Alright, you two go back quickly.

It is very cold at night.

Go on.

After saying this, she got into the car.

Mom, drive slowly.

Wen Yicong stood outside the car window, and after giving instructions to Shen Yulan, she still felt uneasy and turned to Wen Zhenhua in the passenger seat: Dad, are you still sober?

Keep an eye on Mom for me, and make sure she goes slowly, you know?

I know, I know, you are as nagging as a little old lady.

Shen Yulan complained, but her hand reached out and pinched her daughter’s hand through the car window, Go back quickly.

The car started, and the taillights dragged two red lines in the twilight, disappearing at the end of the street.

Wen Yicong stood in place for a while, then turned around to look at the man beside her.

Coincidentally, Mo Shaoshang was also looking at her.

The two smiled at each other, hand in hand, fingers interlaced, walking home along the street.

On both sides of the street were plane trees, most of the leaves having fallen, the bare branches casting dense shadows under the streetlights.

Occasionally, an old man riding a bicycle would pass by Wen Yicong and Mo Shaoshang, pressing the bell twice, the bell making a crisp sound, full of the flavor of human life.

The light from the streetlights spilled down from above, pulling their shadows into two long lines, overlapping, intimate and inseparable.

The night breeze was light, blowing the loose hair on her forehead and the hem of his overcoat.

Neither of them spoke.

This silence was not awkward; instead, it had a strange peace.

It was as if they had been walking for a long, long time and would continue to walk like this.

Until the end of time and the universe.

Suddenly, a voice came from beside Wen Yicong, low and gentle: Yicong.

She came back to her senses and looked over: Hmm?

The light of the streetlight fell on the man’s three-dimensional, handsome face.

Those blue-black eyes stared fixedly at her, dark light floating within, deep as the evening mist, yet burning her heart hot.

When everything settles, Mo Shaoshang reached out and pinched her soft, pink cheek as he spoke, Shall we go to Yunxia, okay? ...Okay.

Wen Yicong did not think much of it, only assuming he was inviting her on a trip, and said with a smile, I have never been to Yunxia.

I heard it is very beautiful there.

Small bridges and flowing water, bluestone roads, and those old noodle shops hidden in the alleys.

I am looking forward to it.

Mo Shaoshang watched her, the corners of his mouth pulling up very faintly, and he did not speak again.

His gaze moved away from her face and landed on the night ahead.

Suddenly, not knowing what he saw, the expression in Mo Shaoshang’s eyes turned cold, like the deep sea before a tsunami.

Sensing the man’s abnormality, Wen Yicong looked up blankly and followed his gaze to look over.

At this sight, she also froze in place.

Not far from the bus stop, a silver-topped Maybach was parked.

The rear window was half-lowered, and the person inside was wearing a suit and tie, his face handsome and refined, his temperament ethereal.

His tea-brown eyes were gentle and calm, like a lake without ripples, looking at them coldly.

It was Pei Xizhou.

Seeing this human-looking but dog-hearted face, Wen Yicong felt a surge of nausea.

The anger in her chest burned fiercely, and she bit her lip, moving to go over and scold him to vent for herself and Mo Shaoshang.

But as soon as she moved, she was stopped by the man beside her.

Wen Yicong frowned and looked at Mo Shaoshang in confusion.

He stared straight at Pei Xizhou, his eyes cold, his face expressionless.

At this moment, Pei Xizhou turned his head, seemingly saying something to his companion.

Immediately after, the passenger door of that car opened, and a tall man with a wasp waist and long legs stepped out.

He was wearing a crisp, high-end black suit, with blonde hair and blue eyes, his features deep, looking like a European.

His leather shoes stepped on the sidewalk, making a high-quality sound.

This man walked straight up to Mo Shaoshang and Wen Yicong, a gentle, elegant smile blooming on his face: Mr.

Mo, Ms.

Wen, good evening.

Forgive the intrusion; I hope we have not disturbed you.

Knowing it is an intrusion is enough.

Wen Yicong’s tone was stiff, her voice bursting with uncontrollable anger.

The European man was choked by this, his face unable to hold the smile for a moment.

He covered his lips with a clenched fist and cleared his throat.

He was unhappy, but it was not appropriate to argue with a little girl, so he could only adjust his facial expression, maintain his smile, and continue: It is like this.

My young master has an invitation that he has entrusted me to hand over to you.

Wen Yicong frowned, her expression defensive and vigilant: What invitation?

Seven days from now, the Rothschild Family will be hosting a victory banquet on the top floor of the Century Hotel.

He paused slightly, his voice lighter and more profound, To celebrate—the official acquisition of the Mo Group.

Acquisition?!

Wen Yicong was horrified, then trembled with anger: You, you!

Ms.

Wen, do not be angry; my young master has good intentions.

The European man’s smile grew wider, his gaze turning to the tall man beside the girl, After all, Mr.

Mo is the former master of the Mo Group.

The young master said that seeing the Mo Group have a good home in the future would allow Mr.

Mo to rest easy.

Mo Shaoshang remained cold throughout, not saying a word.

He did not even look at the European man in front of him once.

Seeing this, the European man knew he had asked for a snub and felt disgruntled.

Knowing the two would not take the invitation he offered, he settled for second best, placed the item on the bench nearby, and turned to leave. * Inside the silver-topped Maybach.

Pei Xizhou looked coldly at the scene not far away, his fingers clenched into fists.

He had waited for so many years, from the rainy night he was adopted by the Mo Family, from the day he learned the truth about his parents’ death, from every sleepless night...

He had been waiting for this day.

He wanted to destroy the Mo Group, destroy Mo Shaoshang, and destroy everything the Mo Family had.

Those so-called kindnesses were nothing but a figment of shame to redeem his monstrous crimes.

He wanted the Mo Family to taste the feeling of losing everything, to make that man who had always been at the highest position fall from heaven into hell, kneeling in the mud, never to climb up again.

However, now that everything had succeeded, as he had wished, why could he still not be happy?

Why did he not feel the joy of revenge being fulfilled?

Perhaps it was because of Mo Shaoshang’s eyes.

What he wanted to see was Mo Shaoshang’s desperate side, to see him show the collapse and decadence after being completely crushed.

However, even after falling to such a state, even though the vast empire that belonged to Mo Shaoshang had collapsed, that man was still the same.

His temperament was composed and relaxed, his expression as calm as water.

He was still so high and mighty, still stingy enough not to spare him even a glance, as if he were still the stray dog taken into the Mo Family years ago, still so disgusting and hateful to him...

In the dark shadows of the back seat, a hand slowly flicked a cigar, the embers flickering in the darkness.

The man laughed softly and asked in Italian: Seeing Mo Shaoshang like a stray dog now, is Young Master Pei satisfied?

Hearing this, Pei Xizhou lowered his eyes, hiding all emotions, and sneered: Mr.

Enzo Rothschild, whether I am satisfied or not is not important.

What is important is that you have finally eliminated your biggest threat, is that not so?

The middle-aged man named Enzo Rothschild laughed lowly, seemingly in a great mood.

These people of the Mo Family are too stubborn.

They have a bit of Chinese blood in them, so they pretend to be noble and are extremely ignorant.

A moment later, he casually crushed the unburned cigar and threw it away.

The car window rolled up, and the sedan sped away. * That night, Wen Yicong’s mood was exceptionally heavy.

Pei Xizhou’s reappearance brought the bad news that the Mo Group was about to be acquired.

She could not imagine what a blow this would be to Mo Shaoshang.

She had wanted to chat with him to help him vent his frustration.

But the other party acted as if everything were normal.

Not only did he learn to change the cat litter for Peach, but he also went into the kitchen to heat a cup of bedtime milk for her, his expression calm and peaceful throughout, as if Pei Xizhou, that invitation, and that sarcastic European were all just her hallucinations.

With no choice, and unable to find a suitable time to bring it up, Wen Yicong had to pretend nothing had happened and picked up her clothes to take a shower.

A few minutes later.

She rinsed off the shower gel, dried her hair, and walked out of the bathroom in her pajamas, only to find the living room empty, with no sign of Mo Shaoshang.

Her brow furrowed slightly, and she searched the room, finally seeing a familiar figure on the balcony of the master bedroom—tall, majestic, yet incomparably lonely.

The night wind was bleak, blowing the clothes on the drying rack until they rattled.

Mo Shaoshang stood in the night with his back to her, not knowing where he was looking or what he was thinking.

The moonlight fell on his shoulders like a thin layer of frost, shrouding him in an indescribable coldness and loneliness.

Wen Yicong felt a little sad.

She could not help but walk up, wrap her arms around his waist from behind, and hug him.

Mo Shaoshang’s waist was narrow and his muscles were firm; through his thin sweater, she could feel his body temperature and his rhythmic breathing.

What are you thinking about?

She pressed her soft cheek against his broad back muscles and asked softly.

Mo Shaoshang was silent for a moment.

I am thinking, he said, his voice light and faint, what kind of gown I should prepare for you in seven days.

Wen Yicong was startled, not having reacted at first.

When she realized what he meant, her expression instantly became extremely shocked.

She let go, took a few steps back, and her voice almost changed pitch: You, you are really planning to attend that damn banquet?

Mo Shaoshang turned around, his gaze looking at her calmly.

Hmm. ...

Wen Yicong held her forehead, silent for a long while before taking a deep breath to stabilize her emotions: You know they invited you because they want to...

She swallowed the word humiliation, changing it to a less harsh phrasing, You know what they are thinking.

Why go?

I do not understand, and I cannot figure it out.

Mo Shaoshang looked at the angry yet beautiful young girl in front of him, his heart moved.

He stretched out his arm, hooked her slender waist into his arms, lowered his head, and kissed her lips.

If you cannot figure it out, do not think about it.

He pressed against her, dark light appearing in his blue-black eyes, Let us do something serious.

Wen Yicong was bewildered: What serious thing?

The next second, her body felt light.

She was lifted up by the man.

His powerful arms held her steadily, but the feeling of weightlessness still made her gasp, subconsciously closing her arms around his neck.

Her heart suddenly began to beat rapidly.

Her face was hot, and so was her body.

Wen Yicong had already guessed what would happen next, and could not help but widen her eyes, shyly scolding: What are you doing?

Mo Shaoshang carried her straight into the room, placed her on the bed, pulled the curtains with his backhand, and while casually taking off his shirt and throwing it on the floor, he asked nonchalantly: What do you think.

Only a bedside lamp was on in the bedroom, casting a dim yellow glow over the cramped space.

He stood by the bed, wearing only a pair of black trousers, the tight muscle lines becoming more distinct in the interplay of light and shadow.

Broad shoulders, narrow waist, no excess fat on his flat abdomen, only skin moistened by sweat, glowing with a sexy luster.

Full of wildness.

Wen Yicong looked at this body and felt her mouth go dry.

She subconsciously moved back, her small face red as she muttered: But yesterday was too intense, I still have not recovered...

Before she could finish, the man’s large hand gripped her slender ankle, blocking all her paths of retreat.

Mo Shaoshang leaned over, trapping her in the space that belonged only to him, his blue-black eyes close at hand, the dark tides and tenderness within them surging as if to drown her.

Then, his thin lips parted slightly, biting her soft, pink earlobe, and he said hoarsely: I will try to control myself tonight.

Con te.

Piano.

Fare l’amore.

(With you.

Gently.

Making love.) ----------------------- Author’s Note: The extra chapter is here.

The main story finale will drop tomorrow.

It is a very, very fat chapter.

Babies, you can start suggesting ideas for the side stories now. —— Random 100 red envelopes. ———— I have opened a new draft in the column, Wildfire Kisses Me, part of the Mountain and River series, which will start this year.

Those interested can bookmark it in advance~ Draft: On the eve of her graduation from the police academy, 22-year-old Shu Jiayu traveled thousands of miles from North City to Heyuan City.

Heyuan, the border line.

Various forces are entrenched, and all kinds of people are mixed.

The boundary between day and darkness is as blurred here as the thick fog of the rainy season.

Late at night, she infiltrated an abandoned factory.

In the shadows, the man was tall, leaning against the wall with his eyes lowered, his long fingers playing with an unlit cigarette in a nonchalant manner.

The dark light was cast from the side, cutting sharp, distinct angles on his face.

His brow bone was three-dimensional, his nose bridge straight, and his jawline as cold and hard as if carved.

Even in his most relaxed posture, he could not hide that extreme sense of oppression, decadent yet sharp.

Like a knife that had been sharpened and was used to seeing blood.

The moment their eyes met, Shu Jiayu was locked by the man’s gaze, her breathing tightening.

The other party’s gaze fell on her, cold and waveless, from top to bottom, seemingly examining her without any emotion, as if confirming a serial number that had to be absolutely correct.

A moment later, the man spoke: Shu Jiayu?

Almost reflexively, she straightened her back: ...Yes.

Hello, I am Chen Wenzhou.

The man stepped forward a few steps and said lightly, Nice to meet you.

Shu Jiayu’s heart beat wildly.

She had heard the name Chen Wenzhou.

The captain of the National Security SWAT team, the anchor of the entire system, the supreme commander of this operation, and her direct superior.

At the same time...

He was also the husband assigned to her by the organization, her fake marriage partner during her undercover period at the border. * Seeing Shu Jiayu for the first time, Chen Wenzhou had a bit of a headache.

The mission was arduous, a matter of life and death, with a high danger coefficient.

How could the superiors send him such a quiet and beautiful young girl?

Seeing Chen Wenzhou for the first time, Shu Jiayu was exceptionally anxious.

To live with such a man day and night and play the role of the most intimate couple, she felt her legs go weak just thinking about it.

Later, after living together for several months.

Shu Jiayu often had a flushed face, moist eyes, and her legs were inexplicably weaker.

And Chen Wenzhou finally knew what it meant to have love enter the bones, life and death, and be unable to stop.