Wen Zhi had never been someone who dared not admit what she felt.
If she wanted to, she could confess to Mo Tingyan right away.
But… she still had reservations.
After all, it was she who had set the rule in the beginning—
no love, just desire.
If she were to confess first, only to find that Mo Tingyan merely enjoyed her body and had no feelings beyond that,
their future interactions would inevitably become awkward.
So she decided to observe a little longer.
Once she was certain of Mo Tingyan's feelings, she would decide whether to confess.
If he didn't love her, she would stop in time—
withdraw the feelings she had just invested
and continue living with him as nothing more than partners sharing a life.
Late the next morning, Wen Zhi and Mo Tingyan finished getting ready and headed downstairs together for work.
But the moment they stepped out of the building, they saw Mo Tingjue sitting dejectedly on the curb by the entrance.
He looked utterly worn down.
Unshaven, face pale and sallow, his entire person appeared as though he had just recovered from a serious illness.
The refined, gentle image he once had was completely gone.
Seeing Mo Tingyan and Wen Zhi walking out together, side by side,
he didn't make a scene like before.
He just sat there, unmoving, looking at them with hollow eyes—
no joy, no sorrow, nothing at all.
Mo Tingyan's heart turned cold.
He just tried to kill himself yesterday. What is he doing here now?
He strode forward and scolded coldly,
"After pulling such a despicable stunt on me, you still dare show up in front of me?
Mo Tingjue, do you really think I'm easy to bully?"
He deliberately brought up Mo Tingjue's shameful act—
a reminder to Wen Zhi not to soften just because of how pitiful the man looked now.
Mo Tingjue's gaze bypassed him and landed on Wen Zhi.
His face was blank, his voice light—
as if talking to himself, or perhaps to her.
"I… I just wanted to see you…"
Mo Tingyan despised this pathetic act.
Without hesitation, he kicked Mo Tingjue to the ground, his voice icy.
"I didn't beat you to death only because I didn't want your filthy blood staining my hands.
Get lost."
Mo Tingjue lay on the ground, staring at Wen Zhi with eyes full of agony.
"I know you hate me… but if I don't see Xiao Zhi, I can't breathe.
I feel like I'm suffocating. I just want to catch my breath… I just want to live.
Xiao Zhi, I—"
Afraid Wen Zhi might be swayed by his miserable state,
Mo Tingyan grabbed her hand and pulled her straight toward his car.
Wen Zhi followed him without turning back.
Once inside the car, Mo Tingyan floored the accelerator and drove off.
Only then did Wen Zhi glance at the rearview mirror.
Mo Tingjue was still sitting on the ground, unmoving.
He looked… seriously unwell.
Mo Tingyan glanced sideways at her and caught her gaze in the mirror.
"You're not feeling sorry for him, are you?"
Wen Zhi withdrew her eyes and rolled them.
"Stop talking nonsense. I just think his mental state looks off."
"When tough tactics don't work, he starts acting, huh?"
Mo Tingyan snorted.
"Anyway, you're not allowed to talk to him, look at him—
you can only look at me. Got it?"
Seeing how unreasonable and domineering he was, Wen Zhi laughed helplessly.
"I already told you, I don't eat leftovers. Stop it and focus on driving."
They thought the morning disturbance was over.
But unexpectedly, over the next several days,
Mo Tingjue appeared downstairs almost every day.
Sometimes in the morning.
Sometimes at night.
At first, Mo Tingyan would instinctively want to beat him up whenever he saw him.
But Wen Zhi stopped him every time.
Mo Tingjue's condition looked alarmingly bad—
like someone terminally ill.
She was genuinely worried that if Mo Tingyan really threw a full-strength punch,
Mo Tingjue might drop dead on the spot.
To prevent irreversible consequences, she could only restrain him.
And every time they returned home afterward,
Mo Tingyan would stew in jealousy and frustration—
venting it all out on her in bed, over and over again.
As a result, Wen Zhi spent every day living with a sore waist.
She truly couldn't understand
what Mo Tingjue hoped to achieve by haunting her like a ghost.
But no matter what he wanted,
it had nothing to do with her anymore.
Let him make a fuss if he wanted.
Once he was done, he'd eventually stop coming.
Saturday arrived.
Mo Tingyan took Wen Zhi to the supermarket, buying bags upon bags of gifts—
including a Barbie doll set that girls loved.
They then headed to Chief Purser Xue's home.
Her husband, Peng Ping'an, was tall and muscular,
looking very masculine—
yet the sight of him opening the door in an apron created a hilarious contrast.
Chief Purser Xue sat chatting with them,
while Peng Ping'an busied himself bringing tea, fruit, and snacks.
Mo Tingyan sighed dramatically,
"Chief Purser, you're impressive. You've trained Brother-in-law so well."
She laughed lightly.
"Not bad, right? You should really learn from him—especially his cooking.
He's completely conquered my stomach.
Every time I eat out now, I just end up thinking his food is better."
"That good? Then I've got to see it for myself."
Mo Tingyan stood up and headed for the kitchen.
In the living room, the chief purser peeled a banana and handed it to Wen Zhi.
"Xiao Zhi, we've been colleagues for over a year.
This is the first time I've invited you to my home.
I used to have prejudices against you—that was my fault.
From now on, don't be reserved around me. We're family now, okay?"
Seeing the sincerity in her eyes, Wen Zhi nodded.
"I'm just not good at socializing. It's not your fault."
She glanced around the room.
It was her first time visiting someone else's home.
The decor was warm and cozy, though… things were placed a little messily.
So every household really lived differently.
The chief purser noticed her gaze and laughed.
"A bit messy, right? Can't help it.
I look neat on the outside, but I'm actually quite sloppy.
Your brother-in-law says he can never clean up fast enough behind me.
Then we had a daughter just as lazy as I am—now it's even worse."
Wen Zhi quickly followed along politely.
"Having someone to clean up for you is already great.
By the way, Chief Purser, where's Wanwan?"
"Oh, she's at her grandma's place.
That kid—don't even get me started.
Terrible grades, zero logic.
A ruler can be twenty meters long, a streetlamp three centimeters tall.
Last night, a multiplication problem—three times four—
she insisted on counting on her fingers with addition.
I asked what she'd do when her fingers ran out,
and she took off her shoes and used her toes.
Nearly sent me straight to the morgue."
Wen Zhi couldn't help laughing.
"That actually sounds kind of cute."
"Cute? Not when homework's involved.
No homework—peace and harmony.
Homework—chickens flying, dogs barking."
Then suddenly, the chief purser asked casually,
"Oh right… when are you two planning to have kids?"
Wen Zhi froze.
If this had been in the past, she would've answered instantly—
No kids.
But just now… for a fleeting moment—
She found herself actually thinking about it.