A pitiful, delicate smile curved Wen Xue's lips as she stepped closer to Wen Zhi, her voice soft and syrupy.
"Xiao Zhi, I've called you so many times—why won't you answer? Don't you know I've been so—"
"Enough."
Wen Zhi cut her off impatiently, her eyes full of disgust. "Stop acting in front of me. Say what you want."
Anger flared in Wen Xue's heart, but she forced herself to continue gently.
"Dad has been missing you lately. He… he got hurt and needs someone to take care of him. My mom has been exhausted staying by his bedside day and night—she's collapsed from overwork. On top of that, debt collectors keep coming to our door these days. I need to raise money, so could you help by going to the hospital to look after Dad too? You don't have to go every day. We can take shifts—I'll raise money during the day, and you stay at night, okay?"
"No."
Wen Zhi let out a cold laugh. "When she chose to be a mistress over ten years ago, didn't she ever think that one day she'd grow old and have to serve someone else? And you—when you were enjoying everything without guilt, didn't you realize this was karma you'd eventually have to pay? You made your choices. Even if you cry, you'll have to endure them."
With that, she stopped looking at Wen Xue altogether. She strode forward, grabbed Mo Tingyan by the wrist, and pulled him toward the building.
The moment they entered, bang—
Wen Zhi slammed the door shut with a thunderous sound.
Mo Tingyan jumped slightly. Seeing her foul mood, he immediately switched to his usual teasing tone, smiling as he coaxed her.
"Zhangzhu, don't be angry. Let's ignore those little goblins, okay?"
Wen Zhi changed into her slippers, turned to look at him, and recalled Wen Xue's expression just now—that greedy, covetous look, exactly the same as when she'd first seen Mo Tingjue back then.
Her anger flared again.
"Hmph."
She snorted coldly. "Men are all trash."
She shot Mo Tingyan a glare and walked straight toward the bedroom.
Mo Tingyan: "...?"
"Zhangzhu? Zhangzhu?"
He followed after her, but bang—the bedroom door closed right in his face.
He stared at the shut door, speechless.
Wasn't he the one who'd been angry earlier?
How did it suddenly turn into him being trash just because of Wen Xue?
Still, knowing Wen Zhi was in a bad mood, he didn't push it. He did have something important to deal with anyway.
He called out through the door,
"Zhangzhu, don't stay mad. I need to head out for a bit—Nan Zhong has something to discuss with me."
Inside the room, Wen Zhi sat on the bed, realizing she really had lost her temper unfairly. Wen Xue was the problem—it had nothing to do with Mo Tingyan.
She took a deep breath, adjusted her emotions, and replied softly,
"Got it."
Downstairs, Mo Tingyan noticed the red Audi was still parked there.
He walked over, pulled open the car door, and Wen Xue got out, looking up at him expectantly.
Mo Tingyan didn't spare her a glance.
He got into his own car and drove off.
Watching his cold, dismissive attitude—exactly like Mo Tingjue's back then—Wen Xue felt a flicker of contempt in her heart.
So aloof? So high and mighty?
She'd managed to reel in the rich and powerful Mo Tingjue—how hard could it be to deal with an illegitimate son?
She got back into her car and tailed him closely, even making a phone call to have another car follow along as well.
Mo Tingyan parked outside a bar.
The moment he walked in and turned around—
Sure enough, Wen Xue followed him inside.
A bar during the day was practically empty, so her figure standing at the entrance was especially conspicuous.
Their eyes met.
Wen Xue immediately put on a "pure and sweet" smile and walked slowly toward him.
Mo Tingyan lifted an eyebrow, that lazy, roguish curve appearing as he spoke lightly,
"Following me?"
She didn't deny it, nodding instead.
"Mr. Mo… won't you invite me for a drink?"
"Want a drink?"
He sat down at the bar, tapped the counter with his finger, and said to the bartender,
"Ten glasses of Flaming Inferno."
The bartender quickly set the drinks down.
Mo Tingyan pushed all ten glasses toward Wen Xue.
"Drink."
She froze for a moment, then blushed shyly.
"Mr. Mo, you don't invite a lady to drink like this. Are you trying to get me drunk so you can do something to me?"
Disgust churned in his gut, but his lips still curved into a smile.
"A lady? A girl is someone untouched. As for someone like you…"
He gave a mocking laugh. "Heh."
Wen Xue's face darkened. She grabbed a glass and downed it in one go, her eyes reddening as she looked at him.
"Mr. Mo, you must've heard Xiao Zhi slander me, right? I was just a tagalong my mom brought when she married into the Wen family. Xiao Zhi has disliked me since childhood—I know that. But… I really like her. No matter what she says about me, I won't blame her."
"Tsk, tsk."
Mo Tingyan clicked his tongue. "So kind."
So disgustingly kind.
Wen Xue sniffed, acting dizzy after just one drink, and leaned sideways against his shoulder.
A look of contempt flashed across Mo Tingyan's eyes as he raised an eyebrow.
"Ms. Wen, what exactly are you doing?"
"I'm sorry… I think I'm a bit drunk."
She softened her voice further. "Mr. Mo, do you know my father has already promised my sister to President Jin? No matter how much you oppose it, it can't be changed anymore. To save the Wen family and my stepfather… could I beg you to let my sister go?"
Her voice trembled.
"If you really need a woman by your side, I'm willing to take my sister's place and stay with you instead…"
Mo Tingyan let out a sharp laugh.
They were both women—yet when Wen Zhi did certain things, they drove him wild.
But this woman? She only made his skin crawl.
He suddenly stood up.
With nothing to lean on, Wen Xue lost her balance and fell flat on the floor—
thud—a perfect face-first sprawl.
Mo Tingyan laughed openly, clearly pleased.
He stepped forward, crossed his arms, bent down, and looked at her from above, eyes full of ridicule.
"Ms. Wen, can't you smell how rotten you are? Just because you don't find yourself disgusting, you think others won't?"
Her face turned deathly pale.
"You—"
Straightening up, Mo Tingyan spat disdainfully in her direction.
"Compare yourself to Wen Zhi? Do you even deserve it? What—no scale at home to weigh how much you're worth? The cheap goods rotting in this bar are more appealing than you. And you still have the nerve to market yourself? Get lost, you filthy thing. You make me sick."
Wen Xue never expected him to curse her so viciously.
Mo Tingjue had rejected her before—but never like this. Never with such brutal humiliation.
This man was simply… crude and unbearable!
She got to her feet, teeth clenched, glaring at Mo Tingyan's disappearing figure down the bar corridor.
Being insulted by a nobody—an illegitimate son—made her burn with fury.
She snorted coldly and turned to leave the bar.
But she would never swallow this humiliation.
Outside, she summoned the people she'd called earlier and said coldly,
"Send me the stuff."
At home, Wen Zhi was cooking lunch when her phone chimed twice.
She casually picked it up.
It was a picture Wen Xue had sent.
She tapped it open—
And when she saw the image of Wen Xue leaning against Mo Tingyan's shoulder, cheeks flushed, her expression instantly turned ice-cold.