The drive home passed in heavy silence.
Mo Tingyan's face was dark enough to scare people away—
as if the whole world owed him a fortune.
Seeing how unhappy he was, Wen Zhi wisely chose not to provoke him.
Once inside, she slipped into her slippers first and said calmly,
"I'll head back to my room."
"Back to your room for what?"
Mo Tingyan finally snapped.
This woman clearly knew he was angry—
yet she wasn't even trying to coax him?
Was she trying to anger him to death?
He kicked off his shoes, stepped into hisch slippers, and strode in front of her.
For once, there was no teasing, no casual touching—only a stern gaze locked onto her.
"I'm asking you," he said, voice low and restrained.
"When we went to study together that day, didn't I tell you—you have me now? That if you ran into danger, you were supposed to tell me?"
Wen Zhi nodded.
No one had ever said such words to her before—
so she remembered them clearly.
"You did."
Mo Tingyan instantly bristled.
"Then why, after remembering that, did you let that scumbag harass you for days without saying a word?"
"Do you not trust me—
or do you not even consider me your man at all?!"
Wen Zhi: "..."
Was that really necessary?
This was her own business to deal with.
But thinking of how he had stood up for her today, she softened slightly.
"I appreciate your intentions. Thank you."
"But I'm not used to troubling others with my personal matters."
Mo Tingyan's expression darkened further, all trace of his usual easygoing charm gone.
"Wen Zhi," he said slowly, "I am not others."
She understood what he meant—but…
"Mo Tingyan, yes, we're married. But we got together to live practically, not because of feelings."
"I don't think I have any reason to burden you."
"I'll say it again—thank you for today. But there's nothing more to discuss."
"I'm hot. I'm going to take a shower."
She stepped around him and went straight to her room.
Mo Tingyan: "..."
She really didn't take him seriously at all.
He almost reached out to stop her—
but then remembered everything she'd endured back in school.
She had been alone back then.
No support. No protection.
She had survived by relying solely on herself.
That habit—handling everything alone—
wasn't something she could change overnight.
…Fine.
She hadn't suffered any real loss this time anyway.
He decided to be generous.
He washed up as well, barely drying his hair before—
like nothing had happened—
he shamelessly trotted over to Wen Zhi's room.
Wen Zhi had already finished showering.
She was sitting on the floor, editing a video on her phone.
In front of her lay two sets of ancient wedding robes, bright red and beautifully arranged.
When she saw him, she looked up.
"You're not here to argue about today again, are you?"
Mo Tingyan rolled his eyes, his usual roguish charm restored.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he said,
"I'm generous. I've forgiven you."
Wen Zhi: "..."
His gaze dropped to the wedding clothes.
"What's with these?"
"I rented them a few days ago—for filming."
He crossed his legs, clicking his tongue arrogantly.
"So you know you need me—yet you were so fierce outside earlier? Aren't you afraid I won't cooperate?"
Wen Zhi: "..."
She ignored that and asked instead,
"How did you know about my past with Xu Botao—and prepare all that in advance?"
Mo Tingyan answered frankly.
"I checked your phone, found Lian Qiao's number, and asked her."
"She told me everything."
Seeing the trace of pity in his eyes, Wen Zhi sighed lightly.
"I don't even think I'm that pitiful. You really don't need to look at me like that."
"Don't say that," he said firmly.
"Are you seriously telling me you weren't hurt at all?"
"…No."
He snorted.
"Still lying? If you weren't hurt, why did you lose so much weight?"
Wen Zhi: "..."
That girl really did talk too much.
She admitted calmly,
"At first, it was hard. But later I realized—those people weren't even passersby in my life."
"If I let strangers' slander hurt me, that would be stupidity."
"So I moved on."
Then she added lightly,
"Besides, I personally dealt with Xu Botao later. I didn't lose."
Mo Tingyan looked at her for a long moment.
"If I hadn't helped this time—how were you planning to get out of it?"
"I have backups," she replied calmly.
"The same recording you had—I kept one too."
Mo Tingyan: "..."
So she really was cautious.
Not wanting to dwell on it, Wen Zhi tossed him the male wedding robe.
"Enough talking. Since you're free—let's film the video."
It was a transformation video.
They filmed the first shot in casual clothes, turning in sync.
Wen Zhi spoke in elegant classical diction:
"Ten miles of red bridal finery—I shall never fail you."
Mo Tingyan replied smoothly:
"With the proper rites and formal vows, I will marry you openly."
A red veil fell, covering the lens.
When it lifted—
They had transformed into ancient wedding attire.
Wen Zhi descended dramatically, falling into Mo Tingyan's arms.
The audio was easy.
But the final shot was difficult.
She had to climb onto the table, stand tall, then fall backward—
trusting Mo Tingyan to catch her.
They filmed over a dozen takes.
None felt natural.
Falling backward required courage—
and complete trust.
By the end, Wen Zhi was exhausted.
A light sheen of sweat covered her forehead, her cheeks flushed pink.
When she fell into his arms again, breathing softly—
Mo Tingyan felt something snap.
She was far too tempting.
Always faithful to his instincts, he bent down, scooped her up, and carried her to the bed.
His kiss followed—deep, lingering, irresistible.
Wen Zhi still had a shred of restraint at first, trying to stop him—
but Mo Tingyan was never one to obey.
He pinned her hands above her head, sealing her protests with a kiss.
Her breath was completely overtaken, warmth spreading everywhere, drowning her—
until she slowly, helplessly sank into that sweet, dangerous tenderness.
More than an hour later—
Everything finally settled.
Wen Zhi lay there, chest rising and falling rapidly, struggling to steady her breathing.
Then she saw the scattered red wedding robes on the floor.
Instantly irritated, she turned to the thoroughly satisfied man beside her.
"Look at this! I just finished organizing them—and now I have to redo everything!"
"Can you seriously not control yourself?"
Mo Tingyan grinned shamelessly.
"Baby, let's be reasonable."
"You can't refuse to acknowledge me after everything's already happened."
"With a beauty in my arms—if I didn't lose my head, would I even still be a man?"
Wen Zhi: "..."
Every argument with him somehow became his logic winning again.