In the end
Wen Zhi was completely conquered.
Afterward, Mo Tingyan leaned back with a look of deep satisfaction and sighed lazily,
"As expected—doing it in the kitchen feels amazing. I've been thinking about it for a long time."
Wen Zhi: "..."
She had officially run out of words.
She kicked him out of the kitchen and finally went back to cooking the dishes she had chopped an hour ago—
the ones that still hadn't made it into the pan.
Once the food was done and placed on the table, she returned to the kitchen to grab bowls and chopsticks.
Just then, the phone tucked into her apron pocket started ringing.
Seeing her father's name on the screen, she closed the kitchen door almost instinctively.
After hesitating for a moment, she answered—reluctantly.
Before she could say a word, Wen Renhao's deep voice came through the line.
"Xiao Zhi, the family business has been hit by the economic downturn. I urgently need to turn over a batch of material funds."
"Tomorrow, bring your boyfriend home."
"Prepare five million as a meeting gift."
Wen Zhi laughed.
Deliberately so.
"Your family's finances are already that bad," she said lightly,
"and you still want to give my boyfriend a meeting gift?"
Wen Renhao's tone instantly darkened.
"He's the one giving me the gift. Otherwise, what right does he have to be with you?"
Wen Zhi replied calmly,
"Because I agreed."
"If you only want to see him for money, then there's no need for this meeting—ever."
Wen Renhao exploded.
"You unfilial child! Why are you always so rebellious?"
"Can't you give me some peace of mind for once?"
"I'm telling you—this five million, you must prepare it."
"And I believe you're capable of doing so."
Wen Zhi was still smiling—but it was sharp, mocking.
"The daughters you raised are Wen Xue and Wen Yu," she said coldly.
"When you need money, you come squeeze me dry instead?"
"Do you think I'm stupid?"
Wen Renhao lowered his voice.
"When your mother divorced me, she left you behind."
"That means you should listen to me."
The moment he mentioned her mother—
Wen Zhi's expression turned instantly dark.
"Is that so?"
"Then sue me."
She hung up.
Leaning against the counter, Wen Zhi clenched her fist slightly.
At that moment, the kitchen door opened.
Mo Tingyan walked in.
Seeing her expression, he bent slightly so their eyes were level, his voice gentle.
"What happened?"
Wen Zhi looked at him for a long moment, hesitated—then suddenly asked,
"Do you hate your father?"
Mo Tingyan raised an eyebrow.
"That call just now—your father?"
She nodded.
He thought for a moment before answering calmly,
"Not everyone deserves to be called a parent."
"My biological father doesn't."
"I hate him to the bone."
He looked at her steadily.
"If your father makes you unhappy and you can't fight back—then walk away."
"Life is short."
"Live however makes you happiest."
Then, softer—
"Zhangzhu, I'll always support you. Hmm?"
Wen Zhi stared at him, then couldn't help but smile.
Some things…
She couldn't say to anyone else.
People who hadn't lived through it would never understand.
They'd only say, 'But that's still your father.'
'You're being unfilial.'
But Mo Tingyan was different.
They were both people who had been soaked by the rain of broken families—
they knew just how cold and piercing that rain really was.
That single sentence was enough to make her feel lighter.
She exhaled, stood up from the counter, and walked out.
"I'm hungry. Bring the bowls and chopsticks. Let's eat."
Behind her, Mo Tingyan watched her back,
a smile unconsciously lifting the corner of his lips.
Meanwhile, at the Wen household—
The moment Wen Renhao heard the busy tone, his face twisted in rage.
He flung his phone onto the coffee table.
Sitting beside him, Su Nanying immediately fanned the flames.
"You know, Xiao Zhi really is something," she sighed pointedly.
"Her boyfriend is so rich—he bought her a four-million necklace without blinking."
"Do you really think she cares about five million?"
She shook her head.
"She doesn't have this family in her heart at all—nor you, her father."
"Xiao Xue's relationship isn't stable yet," she continued softly.
"If she asks Tingjue for money now, he might get annoyed."
"What if everything collapses then?"
Not once did she mention how Wen Xue had been chasing Mo Tingjue relentlessly these past few days—
only to be completely ignored.
Su Nanying handed Wen Renhao a cup of tea gently.
"If only Xiao Zhi had listened to you back then and married President Jin…"
"Forget five million—ten million would've been easy."
"That child… she's just too stubborn."
Wen Renhao's gaze darkened.
An idea quietly took shape.
The next day, after Wen Zhi finished her flight, she headed toward the usual spot to wait for Mo Tingyan.
But the moment she stepped out of the company building—
She saw Wen Renhao approaching her with a stern face,
two men in suits following closely behind him.
Wen Zhi became instantly alert.
He stopped in front of her, wearing the authority of a father like armor.
"I'm here to take you home for a meal," he said coldly.
"And to have a proper talk."
"There's nothing to talk about," Wen Zhi replied flatly.
Wen Renhao wasn't in a hurry.
He glanced toward the airline lobby behind her.
"This is your workplace," he said calmly.
"If you don't want things to get ugly, you'd better listen to me."
At his signal, the two men stepped behind Wen Zhi and gestured politely.
"Second Miss, please."
Wen Zhi clenched her fists.
She still had to work here.
She couldn't make a scene.
So she got into the car.
On the way, Wen Renhao asked casually,
"Which family does your boyfriend belong to?"
The Wen family wasn't a major power in Jiang City.
He didn't want to accidentally offend someone untouchable.
Wen Zhi stared out the window, ignoring him.
Wen Renhao didn't mind.
"I've said it before," he continued coldly.
"If your boyfriend has no value to the Wen family, there's no need to keep him."
"Break up with him."
Wen Zhi turned sharply, fury burning in her eyes.
"You never raised me."
"What right do you have to control my life?"
"Do you really think I'm still the eight-year-old girl who cried uncontrollably when you said—
'Your mother doesn't want you anymore'?"
Wen Renhao slammed his hand down on the seat.
"You're starting again?"
"You've always been like this—just as rebellious as your mother who argued with me every single day!"
Wen Zhi raised her voice.
"If you had kept yourself clean—
if you hadn't gone around seducing shameless women—
my mother wouldn't have had anything to fight with you about!"
"You—!"
She shot him a cold glance, done arguing.
Pulling out her phone, she was about to call Mo Tingyan—
But before she could unlock it, Wen Renhao snatched it away.
"Give it back!" Wen Zhi snapped.
"You'll get it after dinner," he said curtly, tossing it to the suited man in the front seat.
"Not now."
Wen Zhi gritted her teeth.
Fine.
She'd like to see exactly what they were planning.
Half an hour later—
For the first time in years, Wen Zhi stepped back into the Wen family's modest villa.
The moment she entered, she realized—
It wasn't just her stepmother present.
There was also a guest.
A middle-aged man.
President Jin.
The way his eyes slowly, openly sized her up told her everything.
In that instant, Wen Zhi understood perfectly—
The true purpose of this so-called family dinner.
A Hongmen Banquet.
Hidden knives already drawn.