Mo Tingyan gave a roguish grin and reached up to pinch her cheek lightly, affection unmistakable in his eyes—so obvious that Wen Zhi could read it at a glance.
"Oh?" he teased softly. "Why is my Zhangzhu still angry?"
"If you were curious, you could've just asked me. Why get upset?"
"I would've told you everything."
As he spoke, he stuffed the bouquet into her arms, making her hold it. Then he dipped his head slightly, lowering himself until their eyes were almost level.
"You mentioned divorce, and I was upset," he said calmly.
"So I went to Nan Zhong to complain."
"He felt sorry for me and helped out a bit. He told me not to interfere—he'd handle everything."
"In the end," he shrugged lightly,
"this is really your father reaping what he sowed."
Wen Zhi didn't respond.
Instead, she swiftly reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and held it up in front of him.
"Call President Jiang."
Mo Tingyan frowned.
Disappointment flickered across his eyes, tinged with a hint of grievance.
"Alright," he said slowly. "Since you don't believe me… why bother calling?"
"Aren't you afraid we'd already agreed on a code word?"
As he spoke, he straightened up, grabbed her wrist, and started dragging her toward the door.
Wen Zhi froze.
"What are you doing?"
"I'll take you to see Jiang Nanzhong in person," Mo Tingyan said firmly.
"I didn't even get the chance to talk to him beforehand. If we confront him face to face, you won't suspect me anymore—right?"
His confidence made Wen Zhi falter.
Was she really mistaken?
Still, Mo Tingyan didn't give her a chance to back out. He took her straight to the bar Jiang Nanzhong frequented almost daily.
Huo Ze was on a business trip today—
Mo Tingyan wasn't worried at all about Wen Zhi running into anyone she shouldn't.
After entering the bar, he led her into a lavishly decorated private room.
Jiang Nanzhong, who was drinking with friends, froze when he saw them.
"Well, damn," he laughed.
"What brings you here, Brother? And you even brought little sister-in-law?"
Mo Tingyan's expression was cold.
"She has a few questions she wants to ask you. Alone."
Jiang Nanzhong raised a brow, glanced at Wen Zhi, then waved his hand at the others.
"Alright, alright. Go have fun outside."
Once they left, Jiang Nanzhong poured two glasses of wine and brought them over.
Mo Tingyan stopped him.
"No need. I'm driving. And she doesn't drink."
Then he turned to Wen Zhi.
"Ask whatever you want. Don't worry about anything."
"If I make you uncomfortable, I can step out."
Wen Zhi hesitated.
But since they were already here—
she might as well ask.
Looking straight at Jiang Nanzhong, she said bluntly:
"President Jiang, my father's situation—did it have anything to do with you?"
Jiang Nanzhong inhaled sharply, his gaze flicking between the couple.
After a moment, he asked cautiously,
"Little sister-in-law… you're not trying to trap me, are you?"
Wen Zhi's voice was steady.
"Wen Renhao is a scumbag. What happened to him—he deserves it."
Hearing that, Jiang Nanzhong visibly relaxed.
He chuckled warmly.
"Then I won't hide it."
"It was me."
"He messed with my big brother. I can't tolerate that."
Wen Zhi thought of those thugs turning on her father and couldn't help asking,
"But weren't they all hired by my dad? How did you make them turn against him?"
Jiang Nanzhong answered matter-of-factly,
"Money makes even ghosts work."
Wen Zhi didn't believe that explanation.
People didn't just spend money and effort for no reason.
She narrowed her eyes.
"Why are you so good to Mo Tingyan?"
Jiang Nanzhong immediately clutched his clothes defensively.
"Hey—don't get the wrong idea, sister-in-law!"
"I'm not into men. I like women!"
Wen Zhi stayed silent, staring at him.
Mo Tingyan clicked his tongue impatiently.
"Stop wasting time. Tell the truth."
Jiang Nanzhong grinned and loosened his collar.
"Didn't my big brother tell you?"
"A few years ago, he saved my life."
"A life-saving debt."
"Even dying for him wouldn't be too much."
Wen Zhi suddenly remembered—
she had asked Mo Tingyan about this before.
And his answer back then…
was exactly the same.
So—
she really had overthought things.
She turned to look at Mo Tingyan.
Mo Tingyan sighed, looking utterly wronged.
"Zhangzhu," he said helplessly,
"just because I'm poor, does that mean you think I'm useless?"
"That I can only stand there and let your father beat me?"
"I asked a friend for help just to protect our marriage."
"Did I really do something wrong?"
Jiang Nanzhong: "..."
Poor?
He said that with such a straight face.
Disgusting.
Poor little sister-in-law was being deceived so thoroughly.
Seeing Mo Tingyan's gloomy expression, Wen Zhi reflected quietly.
Every time something happened,
it was Jiang Nanzhong who helped him.
She sighed softly.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"I misunderstood you."
Mo Tingyan still looked upset.
He didn't say much—just took her out of the smoke-filled bar.
Back home, Mo Tingyan followed her into her room.
When he saw two packed suitcases, his face darkened completely.
"So you're really efficient," he said coldly.
"You mentioned divorce yesterday, and today your bags are already packed."
"You're really that eager to leave me?"
He walked over, bent down, and flipped the suitcase open. Then he kicked it lightly.
"The problem's solved."
"Forget about divorce."
"Put everything back exactly where it was."
Wen Zhi: "..."
The divorce had only been to avoid dragging him down.
Now that the danger was gone,
there really was no reason to divorce anymore.
She had grown used to having someone around.
She wasn't eager to be alone again.
Besides—
she still needed him to record videos to support her side business.
Without a word, she bent down and started putting the clothes back.
Mo Tingyan didn't pounce on her like before.
He stared at her for half a minute—
then turned around and went back to his own room.
Wen Zhi could tell.
He was angry.
But she wasn't good at comforting people.
So she did nothing.
That night, she couldn't sleep.
She tossed and turned until she checked her phone—
almost two in the morning.
Restless, she decided to grab a drink to help herself sleep.
But as she entered the living room,
she heard muffled murmurs coming from Mo Tingyan's bedroom.
She hesitated—then pushed the door open.
By the faint light from the living room, she saw clearly—
Mo Tingyan was trapped in another nightmare, curled up tightly, his expression twisted in pain.
Wen Zhi walked over and gently patted his shoulder.
"Mo Tingyan?"
He jolted awake, forehead slick with sweat.
Seeing her, he pulled her into his arms without hesitation, holding her tightly as he steadied his breathing.
She lost her balance and half-fell onto him.
She was usually someone who avoided meddling.
But seeing him plagued by nightmares again and again—
she suddenly felt an inexplicable curiosity.
Softly, she asked:
"Mo Tingyan…"
"Why do you always have nightmares?"