Wen Zhi caught the hesitation in Mo Tingyan's unfinished words—
the rare, unmistakable note of loss woven through his voice.
She interrupted him gently, turning the question back on him.
"Mo Tingyan, what kind of person your mother was… does that have anything to do with me?"
He looked at her, surprise flickering unmistakably in his eyes.
For a moment, he couldn't tell—
Was she deliberately sparing his pride?
Or did she truly not care at all?
Wen Zhi didn't look at him. She kept her eyes on the road, her voice calm and even.
"When we got married, I never once asked about your family or background. That already proves I never cared about those things. I married you—not the past standing behind you."
Something tightened inexplicably in Mo Tingyan's chest.
Everything he found so difficult to say, so hard to bear—
To her, it seemed as light as a passing cloud.
He slowly withdrew his gaze, closing his eyes as he tried to suppress the turmoil and disbelief rising within him.
Wen Zhi glanced at him through the rearview mirror.
A low pressure still clung to him.
She had never seen him this quiet… this weighed down.
After hesitating for a moment, she changed lanes at the next intersection.
When the car finally stopped, Mo Tingyan opened his eyes and realized—
They were at the seaside, far beyond the city.
The engine was still running when he turned to her.
"Why did you come here?"
Wen Zhi pressed her lips together softly.
"You looked unhappy. I thought I'd keep you company for a while."
As she spoke, she casually unfastened her seatbelt and turned toward him, her brows gentle, her eyes warm.
"I've never really told you about myself, have I? Since I heard one of your secrets today… I'll share one of mine too. Let's call it even."
Mo Tingyan didn't speak.
He simply watched her, waiting.
"My parents divorced when I was very young," she said quietly. "Before that, I truly believed I was the happiest girl in the world. But after they separated, I stayed with my father—and on the very day of the divorce, he brought home the woman he'd been having an affair with."
"That was when I finally understood," she continued softly,
"that in this world, no one truly belongs to me—except myself."
A faint smile lingered at the corners of her lips the entire time.
It was a sad story, yet she told it as if it belonged to someone else—
detached, calm, unbothered.
Mo Tingyan met her gaze and listened until the end. After a pause, he asked hesitantly,
"Zhangzhu… are you comforting me?"
She shook her head.
"I just think you're unhappy because of your mother's identity. But what does who she was have to do with you? You are you. She is her."
"If people could choose their parents," she added gently,
"there wouldn't be so many wounded children in this world. We didn't do anything wrong. The ones at fault are the parents who were irresponsible yet still chose to bring children into the world. There's no need for us to bear the consequences of their mistakes. So… you can let it go."
Mo Tingyan looked at her without blinking.
In the past, everyone who knew his background used his mother's identity to mock him, ridicule him, trample him—
as though the very fact of his birth was shameful and unforgivable.
Only she was different.
In the golden warmth of the setting sun, Wen Zhi's smiling face slowly overlapped—
with another smile from his memories.
Equally warm. Equally gentle.
Noticing his gaze drifting, as if he were seeing something beyond her, Wen Zhi thought perhaps he needed time alone.
She quietly looked away toward the sea where sky and water met.
"Take a moment to calm down. I'll go for a walk by the shore. Call me when you're feeling better."
She opened the door and stepped out, walking alone toward the beach.
Mo Tingyan watched her retreating figure for a long time.
The darkness and malice born from Gu Nian's words slowly dissolved in his chest, little by little.
The beach was lively—many people were out digging for clams.
Unsure how long it would take Mo Tingyan to feel better, Wen Zhi suddenly felt curious.
She bought a simple set of tools, pulled on rubber boots, grabbed a small bucket and shovel, and joined in.
After ten minutes of wandering, she'd only caught a few clams and some tiny crabs.
Just as she focused on digging into a small hole, she heard footsteps approaching from behind.
Turning around, she saw Mo Tingyan walking over, a bag of salt swinging in his hand.
"Want some help?"
Seeing his usual lazy, playful demeanor back, Wen Zhi knew he'd adjusted.
She had been thinking of buying salt herself anyway.
She stood and pointed behind a nearby rock.
"Perfect timing. There are lots of holes over there. Come on."
In her eagerness, she grabbed his wrist and briskly led him forward.
Mo Tingyan looked down at the hand gripping his wrist—
then up at her ponytail bouncing lightly as she walked ahead.
An unfamiliar emotion flickered through him.
He had always hated people getting close.
But Wen Zhi was different.
Not only did he not dislike her touch—
the moment she touched him, he wanted more.
At the time, he thought it was nothing more than physical attraction.
Only much later—
after Wen Zhi had completely left his life—
did he finally understand what that fleeting feeling truly meant.
Acting on instinct, Mo Tingyan was just about to pull her close and steal a kiss—
When Wen Zhi suddenly turned around, snatched the salt from his hand, and crouched down, sprinkling it into the holes.
"This area here—look! So many holes."
Mo Tingyan: "..."
No kiss.
He moved around to her front and crouched as well, preparing to try again—
When Wen Zhi suddenly shoved his shoulder excitedly.
"Look! Look! They're popping out—so many razor clams!"
Caught completely off guard, Mo Tingyan lost his balance and fell straight back into the muddy sand.
Mission failed.
Spectacularly.
Wen Zhi froze for a second.
"I didn't even push that hard… are you maybe a little… weak?"
Grinding his teeth, Mo Tingyan stood up—
only to realize the back of his pants was now a disaster.
Wen Zhi glanced down and burst out laughing.
Her laugh threshold was usually high, but today—
she really couldn't hold it in.
It looked like someone had smeared mud all over him.
"Wen Zhi!"
She cleared her throat and forced a straight face.
"My fault. I'll stop laughing."
She quickly pulled more than a dozen clams from the holes and tossed them into the bucket.
"Wait for me. I'll finish up here, then go buy you a new pair of pants."
Mo Tingyan sighed.
"These clams… are they more important than me?"
"Well, we're already here," she replied briskly, hands moving fast.
"Leaving all this behind would be such a waste. You're already dirty—what's a few more minutes?"
Mo Tingyan: "..."
The mighty president of Mingguang Group—
not as important as a few razor clams?
So angry…