Wen Zhi's account had officially surpassed six hundred thousand followers.
And what shocked her even more was this—
the thirty-plus thousand new followers had all come from just five videos.
She had to admit it.
Mo Tingyan was practically her traffic cheat code.
With nothing much to do that afternoon, Wen Zhi went live for two full hours.
The moment she logged off, she excitedly ran to share the good news with Mo Tingyan.
To celebrate, she even went into the kitchen herself and cooked four dishes, all of them his favorites.
Mo Tingyan stared at the dishes on the table—the very ones she had taught him to make just two days ago—and frowned slightly.
"Why do I suddenly feel psychological trauma when I see these?" he said cautiously.
"After we eat… you're not going to bring up divorce again, are you?"
Wen Zhi: "..."
Was he doing this on purpose?
Seriously—bringing up the one thing she didn't want to hear.
"No," she replied flatly. "Eat."
Mo Tingyan leaned in and stole a quick kiss from her lips before sitting down.
"I was joking," he said with a grin. "Why are you getting mad already?"
He picked up his chopsticks, took a bite of the sweet-and-sour pork, and raised his brows in satisfaction.
"As expected—nothing tastes better than food made by my precious Zhizhi herself."
Wen Zhi watched his exaggerated expression and couldn't help but laugh.
So dramatic.
The atmosphere between them was warm and relaxed.
After a moment, Wen Zhi asked, "Should we have a drink to celebrate?
Sixty thousand followers so quickly—it's something I never even dared to dream of before."
Mo Tingyan smiled slyly.
"Of course. Alcohol makes things… chaotic."
She shot him a look. "No shame."
Still, she went to grab some beer.
Just then—
Ding dong.
The doorbell rang.
Mo Tingyan stood up, the smile still lingering on his lips as he walked over and opened the door.
But the moment he saw who was standing outside—
The smile on his face shattered instantly.
His entire body stiffened, frozen in place like ice.
Wen Zhi returned with the beer and noticed him standing motionless at the doorway.
Confused, she walked over and asked softly, "Who is it?"
She looked past his shoulder—
And saw a woman standing outside.
The woman looked to be in her thirties, wearing heavy makeup.
She had a slender figure, dressed in a revealing black strapless mini dress, her feet perched on sky-high hot-pink stilettos.
Between her fingers was a half-burned cigarette.
Wen Zhi stood two steps behind Mo Tingyan, watching him stare at the woman without blinking.
Her brows knitted instinctively.
…A woman from his past?
Her expression cooled.
The woman noticed Wen Zhi and leisurely took another drag from her cigarette, blowing a thick cloud of smoke toward her.
"So," she drawled, eyes half-lidded.
"You're Ah-Yan's woman?"
Wen Zhi's gaze was calm and distant.
"And you are?"
The woman scoffed, then reached out and shoved Mo Tingyan aside.
She strutted in on her stilettos, circling Wen Zhi once, appraising her from head to toe.
"Hm. That face really is seductive," she sneered.
"Ah-Yan, I didn't know you liked this type."
When she raised her hand to touch Wen Zhi's shoulder—
Mo Tingyan snapped out of it.
Suppressing the violent discomfort surging in his chest, he stepped forward, grabbed the woman's wrist, and yanked her away.
"Don't touch her," he said coldly.
"This is my house. Who gave you the right to come in? Get out."
Wen Zhi caught the tremor buried deep in his voice—the hatred he was forcing down.
Her expression grew heavier.
So this wasn't an ex.
Before she could piece it together, the woman suddenly burst into manic laughter.
"My house?" she mocked.
"Ah-Yan, how dare you talk to your mother like that?
You ungrateful little wretch—without me, where do you think you came from?"
Wen Zhi froze.
His… mother?
"Shut up!"
Mo Tingyan glanced at Wen Zhi, his face dark and tense, as if he didn't want her to see him like this.
But Wen Zhi already understood.
He hated her knowing anything about his mother—
yet here she was, barging into their home.
His heart must be in agony right now.
Wen Zhi lowered her gaze and calmly studied the woman.
Xu Wan, however, paid no attention to her scrutiny.
She walked straight to the dining table as if she owned the place, sat down casually, cigarette still in hand, and began eating—using chopsticks that clearly didn't belong to her.
She chuckled lightly.
"You made this? Not bad. You can cook."
Wen Zhi didn't respond.
Xu Wan clicked her tongue. "Rude."
By now, Mo Tingyan's initial shock had subsided.
He rushed over, snatched the chopsticks from her hand, and barked—
"Xu Wan, get out of my house!"
Xu Wan leaned back lazily, crossed her legs, and pointed at Wen Zhi.
"Ah-Yan, I don't like her.
I won't accept her as my daughter-in-law.
Break up with her."
Before Mo Tingyan could speak—
Wen Zhi beat him to it.
"What a coincidence," she said coolly.
"I don't like you either.
I don't accept having any kind of relationship with someone like you.
"But Mo Tingyan is my man.
If you want him to break up with me—
you're not qualified."
Xu Wan raised an eyebrow.
"I'm Mo Tingyan's mother—"
"So what?" Wen Zhi cut her off with a mocking smile.
"Who you gave birth to has nothing to do with me.
"You didn't raise me, so you don't get to boss me around.
"Mo Tingyan is my man.
Whether he listens to you is his business—but in this house, he listens to me."
As she spoke, Wen Zhi walked to the table.
Without hesitation, she dumped every dish, bowl, and chopstick Xu Wan had touched straight into the trash.
She turned to Mo Tingyan calmly.
"Mo Tingyan.
Throw her out.
I'll cook again for you."
Mo Tingyan looked at her.
She wasn't shaken.
She was protecting him.
The heaviness in his chest surged violently—but he swallowed it down.
He grabbed Xu Wan's arm and dragged her outside without a word, ignoring her struggles.
Downstairs, Xu Wan stomped angrily.
"Son! Look at how that little slut talked to me—"
"Shut up," Mo Tingyan snapped, flinging her hand away.
"Don't use such disgusting words on her.
"She's clean.
Unlike you."
Xu Wan laughed softly, full of mockery.
"嫌我脏?"
"Too bad. No matter how much you hate it—you're still my son."
Mo Tingyan stared into her eyes and suddenly grabbed her collar, forcing her close.
"Who let you come back?"
Xu Wan didn't answer.
Instead, she tilted her head and chuckled strangely.
"But Ah-Yan…
why does your woman look so familiar?"
She frowned, as if recalling something.
"She looks just like that woman from before…"