Mo Tingjue lost his mind.
He called Wen Zhi again and again, relentlessly, as if obsessed.
It wasn't that Wen Zhi hadn't thought about blocking him—but she knew him too well. The moment she did, he would simply switch to another number and keep harassing her. Worse still, she couldn't turn off her phone. Her work wouldn't allow it.
After more than ten minutes of stubborn resistance, Wen Zhi finally snapped and answered.
On the other end of the line, Mo Tingjue's voice was sharp, aggressive, filled with accusation.
"Wen Zhi—who is the man in your video?"
Before the recording, Wen Zhi had casually coached Mo Tingyan on pronunciation and tone. Because of that, even someone familiar with him wouldn't be able to recognize his voice.
She wasn't worried in the slightest.
Her reply was cool and indifferent.
"That's my business. It has nothing to do with you."
But Mo Tingjue refused to let it go.
"Is it the man who gave you that necklace?" His voice tightened. "Xiao Zhi, I've been trying so hard to win you back. How can you treat me like this?"
Wen Zhi laughed softly—full of mockery.
"When we were still together, you had already betrayed me," she said calmly. "Stop acting like the victim. Aren't you disgusted by yourself?"
The memory of being caught cheating flashed through Mo Tingjue's mind, and his earlier arrogance finally faltered.
He let out a long sigh, his tone softening.
"Xiao Zhi… we were together for so long. Can you really be this heartless?" His voice dropped. "I'm begging you. Give me one more chance. Even if you can't forgive me yet, can't you at least stop being ambiguous with other men? I can't take it. I feel like I'm going to die of jealousy."
Those words, meant to sound sincere, only struck Wen Zhi as ridiculous.
If he truly loved her—how could he have betrayed her in the first place?
Her voice turned distant and cold.
"When you crawled into Wen Xue's bed, did you ever think about this?" she asked quietly. "Or did you think I, Wen Zhi, was just your possession—something you could control whenever you pleased?"
She paused, then said calmly,
"Mo Tingjue, you really underestimate me."
Without another word, she hung up.
The busy tone rang endlessly in Mo Tingjue's ears.
In a fit of rage, he smashed his phone to the floor.
Why was it that every other woman bent to his will—yet Wen Zhi alone refused to understand him?
And yet, the more she resisted, the more determined he became.
He would make her understand.
There was nothing in this world he couldn't obtain.
Even Wen Zhi—she, too, could be reduced to something that belonged to him, dependent on him for the rest of her life.
Wen Zhi set her phone down on the coffee table just as Mo Tingyan walked over, holding a freshly brewed cup of coffee.
As he handed it to her, he asked casually,
"Mo Tingjue saw the video?"
Wen Zhi accepted the cup, hummed softly in response, and took a small sip.
Mo Tingyan chuckled and gently rubbed the top of her head.
"I didn't expect you to be this obedient. I told you not to tell him about us—and you really kept it hidden all this time."
She looked at him as if it were obvious.
"Of course I couldn't tell him," she said. "You were only transferred back to Jiang City recently and haven't fully established yourself yet. The Mo family may not be a top-tier powerhouse here, but they do have influence. If they decided to target you, even with your surname, it wouldn't be easy to handle."
As she spoke, something crossed her mind.
"Can I ask you something?" she added casually.
But halfway through, she stopped herself.
This felt like prying into someone else's private wounds.
It wasn't right.
"Forget it," she said. "You don't have to answer."
Mo Tingyan smiled instead.
"It seems that when you were with Mo Tingjue, you really didn't bother asking about the Mo family at all."
Wen Zhi glanced at him.
"I don't like digging into other people's private affairs. Especially family matters. I've never been interested."
Mo Tingyan nodded.
"There's nothing I can't say. The Mo family rose through Mo Tingjue's maternal family. That's why… in most matters, it's that woman who has the final say."
That single sentence was enough.
Wen Zhi immediately understood.
Mo Tingyan was an illegitimate child. Mo Tingjue's mother refused to accept him—that was why he had been cast aside.
But could his father really watch his own flesh and blood be abandoned… and do nothing?
She hesitated, then asked softly,
"Then… is your relationship with your father also bad?"
Mo Tingyan's voice cooled.
"The word 'father,'" he said lightly, "is nothing more than a biological label to me."
Wen Zhi tightened her grip around the coffee cup.
She could imagine his childhood—and it must have been anything but warm.
For others, happiness came so easily.
Yet for the two of them… neither had ever truly had it.
She looked at him deeply.
Just then, Mo Tingyan leaned closer, his posture lazy and relaxed, his presence intimate as he teased softly,
"Well, look at that. My precious Zhuzhu not only kept our relationship secret because she was worried I'd be bullied… she's even feeling sorry for me now?"
His breath brushed against her neck, warm and teasing, sending a ticklish sensation through her skin.
She immediately tilted her head away and shot him a glare.
"Enough," she said. "Who's feeling sorry for you? Stay away from me. I said—no touching for ten days."
Mo Tingyan lifted her chin with one finger, smiling like a dangerous enchantment. His nose brushed lightly against hers, his voice low and unbearably seductive.
"Then…" he murmured,
"I'd like to apply to spend one day in advance—from your period restriction."
His lips curved.
"You're so good to me. I should… repay you properly. With actions."
Before she could react, he took the coffee cup from her hand and set it aside, his other hand still holding her chin as he leaned in and kissed her deeply.
His grip was precise—just enough to keep her from speaking, just enough to trap every word between their lips.
Her consciousness slowly unraveled.
Until finally—she completely surrendered.
Under the soft glow of the lights, desire spilled everywhere.
Mo Tingyan had been holding back for four long days. When he finally released all that pent-up restraint, Wen Zhi was already exhausted, sprawled on the sofa, sleep overtaking her.
He didn't wake her.
He returned to the bedroom, grabbed a thin blanket, and came back to the sofa, wrapping it around them as he pulled her into his arms.
They slept like that for the night.
Peaceful. Dreamless.
Because their flights were early the next morning, Wen Zhi had set an alarm.
When it rang, she woke immediately.
Seeing the two of them tangled together on the sofa—bare, exposed, having slept like this all night—she sighed softly.
She'd been completely outplayed again.
That day's flights ended earlier than expected.
Mo Tingyan had a meeting to attend after returning to the airport, so Wen Zhi didn't wait for him. She took a taxi alone to the supermarket to buy groceries.
By the time she returned to the apartment complex, her phone rang.
It was Mo Tingyan.
He had just finished his meeting and was almost home. Tonight, he wanted to eat the hand-pulled noodles she made.
Wen Zhi agreed.
She carried the groceries upstairs. Just as she stepped into the entryway, before the security door had fully closed—
It was suddenly shoved open from behind.
Startled, she spun around.
Standing there, one hand pressed hard against the door