"Pearl."
Mo Tingyan suddenly called out to her.
Wen Zhi turned back.
The man was leaning lazily against the doorframe, eyes sharp, scanning every flicker of emotion on her face.
"Did someone bully you today?"
Her heart stuttered.
Had she shown too much earlier?
She instantly shook her head, voice cool and steady.
"Of course not. No one at work can bully me. Go do what you need to do. I'm tired—I'm going to rest."
Only after she disappeared into her bedroom did Mo Tingyan finally step out.
He didn't fully believe her.
Walking downstairs, he called his co-pilot to double-check—nothing unusual had happened during her flights.
He hung up, still unsettled.
Was he overthinking it?
He drove to a hotel.
The moment he entered the lobby, he saw Mo Tingjue striding out.
The man's eyes turned cold the moment he spotted him, and he moved toward Mo Tingyan with a storm of fury.
A few nights ago, drinking with Feng Zhao, he had heard about the "cheating boyfriend incident."
He had assumed the man eating with Wen Zhi must have been the rich heir who gifted her the million-yuan necklace.
To get the truth, he even went to the police station to pull the surveillance footage—
only to see, to his shock, that the man entering with Wen Zhi…
was Mo Tingyan.
For days he'd been burning with rage, trying to confront him.
But Mo Tingyan never answered his calls.
Now, face-to-face, Mo Tingjue hurled out the question, voice icy:
"Mo Tingyan, why were you having dinner with Wen Zhi that day? What the hell are you planning?!"
Mo Tingyan gave a short, contemptuous laugh.
"I need your permission on who I can eat with? As for what I'm planning—you don't deserve to know. Trash like you doesn't get explanations."
Mo Tingjue's fists clenched, but he didn't dare swing.
He hated this—
the man was just a discarded illegitimate child.
Why should he be afraid?
Summoning courage, he stepped closer.
"I don't care who you eat with. But you stay away from Wen Zhi—I warned you! Wen Zhi is mine! Do you hear me?"
Emboldened, he pushed further, voice rising:
"You don't know her at all! Her mother was driven away by a mistress—she hates mistresses more than anything! And your mother? Don't you know what she was? If Wen Zhi finds out, she wouldn't even speak to you—she—"
Before he could finish—
PAH!
A violent crack exploded in his ear.
His left side went numb, ringing painfully.
He had been slapped.
Mo Tingjue covered his cheek, stunned.
"You… you hit me?!"
"What's there not to dare?"
Mo Tingyan's expression didn't change, but his tone was lethal.
He raised his fist and jabbed it hard into Mo Tingjue's chest—again and again—each strike pushing him back several steps.
"What Wen Zhi thinks isn't the point. But if you say one wrong word in front of her—just one—Mo Tingjue, I will end you."
Mo Tingjue stared at him.
The man's face was expressionless, almost lazy—
yet the pressure rolling off him was suffocating.
Just being stared at made his nerves tighten involuntarily.
But he refused to believe this illegitimate nobody would actually kill him.
He forced himself to push Mo Tingyan's fist away, shouting,
"Don't scare me! If you kill me, you won't survive either!"
"Heh."
Mo Tingyan let out a soft, disdainful laugh.
"Did your snobbish parents raise you with the IQ of a broken broom? Do you not understand there's such a thing as—killing without shedding blood?"
Mo Tingjue froze.
Mo Tingyan grabbed his ear, yanking him close, voice quiet but poisonous.
"To get rid of trash like you? I don't need blood. If you dare speak a single word to Wen Zhi… I'll publish your little secret—the one where you dated her while sleeping with her stepsister—to the entire internet."
He leaned even closer.
"You won't just die—you'll never stand straight as a human being again."
With that, he flung his hand away as if touching filth, shot him one cold look, and walked into the hotel.
Mo Tingjue staggered, barely staying upright.
He stared at the cold, arrogant figure disappearing through the lobby doors, fists trembling.
He couldn't afford to fight this bastard.
Mo Tingyan had nothing to lose.
But he—he couldn't afford a ruined reputation.
But why…
why was this illegitimate child so arrogant?!
Wen Zhi was his.
No one could take her away.
At the elevator, Mo Tingyan thought of the words Mo Tingjue had thrown earlier.
His irritation flared.
He reached into his pocket—only to realize his cigarettes were in the car.
Clicking his tongue in annoyance, he turned and walked back toward the entrance.
Just as he approached, he saw Mo Tingjue standing outside, waiting for his car, speaking into his phone—
his voice dripping with gentleness.
"Xiao Zhi… did you hear it? It's thunder. I know you still don't want to forgive me, but you've always been scared of storms… Can I talk to you like before? You don't have to reply. I'll talk. You listen. Okay?"
Mo Tingyan's eyes turned storm-dark.
Thunder rolled outside, rumbling through heavy clouds ready to burst.
Wen Zhi…
was scared of thunder?
So that was why—
before he left, she had quietly asked him if he really had to go out today.
The realization made something in his chest tighten and twist painfully.
He knew something was off with her.
But he hadn't expected… it was this.
Outside, Mo Tingjue's car arrived and drove away.
At the same moment, Mo Tingyan's phone rang.
He took it out—Huo Ze.
He answered, voice low and cold.
"What?"
"Big bro, you're not here yet? I've prepared the contract—"
"I'm not coming. We'll talk another day."
Huo Ze blinked. "Why?! You said you were free toda—"
"I'm not now. Bye."
He hung up without waiting for a response and strode out of the hotel.
Upstairs in the private room, Huo Ze stared at his phone.
"…Is he going through menopause or what?"