Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Wen Yinong was taken aback, as if she hadn't processed it yet. When her mind caught up, both cheeks turned crimson.

She couldn't help thinking to herself that this gentleman's way of giving compliments was indeed... unique.

She just wasn't sure whether it was a genuine compliment or a veiled jab tinged with sarcasm.

Frozen in place for a good while, Wen Yinong finally found her voice, managed to stammer out a sentence: "If that's a compliment, thank you..."

Her voice was barely audible, like a mosquito's whine, clearly embarrassed.

Mo Shaoshang looked at the young girl before him, noticing the blush on her face, and raised an eyebrow almost imperceptibly. Then, parting his thin lips, he said, "I was on official business a few days ago, so I went to Hong Kong."

Wen Yinong blinked after hearing this.

She thought to herself that her employer was really quite capricious; the two sentences had nothing to do with each other.

However...

Official business in Hong Kong?

Wen Yinong paused, a tiny question mark forming in her mind: Had she asked him where he went?

With that thought, she looked up, with a hint of hesitation and uncertainty, and asked in a low voice, "Mr. Mo, if I may confirm, did I ask you where you went?"

That can't be right.

She was a professional rehabilitation therapist, with years of experience and a good reputation; she was always mindful of boundaries. She wouldn't be so rash.

At that, Mo Shaoshang shook his head.

A flicker of confusion crossed Wen Yinong's face: "Then why did you suddenly tell me this?"

Mo Shaoshang looked at her calmly and said flatly, "I'm Ari's guardian, so we should stay in close touch. I originally planned to let you know about the Hong Kong trip ahead of time, but didn't have time."

This explanation sounded reasonable, yet it was a bit odd.

Indeed, they should keep close contact.

But, forgive her ignorance. In all her years of practice, she had only heard of a therapist asking for leave from the employer, never of an employer reporting his whereabouts to a therapist...

Wen Yinong was a bit suspicious, but didn't dwell on it, simply attributing it to her employer being meticulous. Then, she curved her lips into a warm, understanding smile and said sincerely, "Mr. Mo, you really don't need to share things about your privacy with me. Just keep me updated on Ari's daily schedule and where he'll be, so I can better coordinate with you."

Nearby, the man stood in silence, watching her without a word.

The autumn wind blew gently, the sunlight warm and soft, filtering through the thinning leaves, casting light and shadow across her fair, clean face. A few unruly strands of hair danced gently in the breeze, brushing against the graceful curve of her neck.

From where he stood, she was bathed in soft light, her brows gentle, her demeanor calm, carrying an untainted purity.

This Chinese girl—even the wind seemed gentle on her.

A moment of silence fell over the lakeside.

Sensing his quiet but intense gaze, Wen Yinong felt a flash of confusion and instinctively touched her cheek: "What is it, Mr. Mo? Is there something on my face?"

Oh no. Had she been in such a rush eating breakfast that she still had orange jam at the corner of her mouth?

Mo Shaoshang stared straight at her and answered with a question: "How did Ari perform in class?"

Hmm. Okay, so no orange jam on her face.

Switching to her professional self, Wen Yinong cleared her throat, sat up straighter, her lively expression fading into seriousness and earnestness.

"Ari's condition has been very stable over the past few days. In floor-time therapy, I mostly follow his lead… For example, lately Ari has really been into spinning objects and lining up blocks."

As she reported, Wen Yinong gestured with her hands, "I try to build in simple interactions when he repeats those behaviors. For instance, when he spins a toy car wheel, I sit next to him and use an exaggerated tone and expressions to get his attention, imitating and following along."

"One thing that's worth mentioning is—" Her tone grew suddenly lighter, and she smiled warmly, "Ari's resistance to this type of embedded interaction has clearly lessened. Yesterday afternoon, when I was imitating his block arrangement, he looked at me on his own and even smiled at me. Although it was brief, it's quite a positive sign."

...

The young therapist spoke clearly. After summarizing her recent observations and intervention priorities, she moved on to her upcoming lesson plans, including how to slowly increase the complexity of interactions and add simple social games.

Mo Shaoshang watched her, his gaze never wavering.

He noticed her vivid expressions, lively eyes, and the confidence that shone in her eyes when she spoke about her work.

After a while, Wen Yinong finished her explanation, looked at Mo Shaoshang, and asked, "Um, do you have any other suggestions for these lesson plans?"

Mo Shaoshang paused, then said, "Teacher Wen is professional, attentive, and responsible. Flawless."

Wen Yinong was momentarily stunned. Such a direct and sincere compliment made her a little shy. She lowered her eyes and replied modestly, "You flatter me. This is all part of my job. Ari is really lucky to have an uncle like you."

Here, Wen Yinong paused, her gaze turning distant as she looked out at the shimmering lake.

Watching the elegant swans, her eyes went distant, as if lost in a memory, and she suddenly said,

"Before taking on Ari, I worked with a child with severe autism. That child was already eight years old when he first came to our institution, but his language development was below the level of a two-year-old. He couldn't point to body parts, couldn't understand complex instructions, and had severe emotional issues. Before every session, he would cling to the railing in the hallway and cry hysterically."

"Although the child was only eight, he was well-nourished and growing fast, already nearly 1.4 meters tall. His mother was very slender. Every session was like a battle for her." Wen Yinong's voice was very calm. "Later, I suggested that the mother have a male family member handle daily drop-offs and pick-ups, only then did I learn that the child's father had abandoned them, and the grandparents didn't care either..."

Thinking of that child's young face and the mother's thin frame, Wen Yinong felt her nose sting with emotion.

The next moment, she snapped back to reality, realizing she had lost her composure in front of a stranger. She quickly showed Mo Shaoshang an apologetic smile and said, "I'm sorry. I just wanted to tell you that every parent who perseveres and strives for their special child has it very difficult. Your care and dedication to Ari already surpass many biological fathers..."

As she spoke, she lowered her head and quietly wiped the corner of her eyes with the back of her finger.

Just then, a hand came into her view.

The knuckles were distinct, the skin a cold, pale white, with blue-green veins visible on the back. The fingers were long and sturdy, slightly cupped, with clear, cold tendons—restrained yet strong.

A tissue was pinched between two fingers, held out to her.

Wen Yinong was stunned. She instinctively lifted her eyes.

Above her, the man looked straight at her, his blue-black eyes calm as water. He was impeccably dressed, elegant and gentlemanly.

"Thank you..." Wen Yinong murmured in reply, took the tissue, wiped her face, and then, with a grateful smile, politely bid farewell to Mo Shaoshang.

She turned and walked away.

The light footsteps faded away.

Watching the young girl's retreating figure, Mo Shaoshang was silent for a moment, then raised his hand.

Then he looked at his fingers.

The instant they brushed her hand—barely half a second, too brief for her to notice.

His fingertips still seemed to remember the feel of her skin.

Soft. Smooth. Delicate.

Hard to forget.

A moment later, Mo Shaoshang raised his hand slightly, pressing his high-bridged nose against it, sniffing lightly. Something deep in his blue-black eyes spread and smoldered, like magma churning beneath an icy surface.

*

The afternoon Floor Time session went smoothly. Ari and Wen Yinong made eye contact four times in total—brief but unmistakable.

Wen Yinong noted this encouraging change in her log, her mood lifting.

As evening fell, the chefs prepared dinner.

When Wen Yinong led Ari into the dining room, Mo Shaoshang was already seated at the head of the table.

Halfway through dinner, as Wen Yinong was trying to help Ari scoop soup with his own spoon, the phone in her pocket suddenly started ringing.

She glanced at the caller ID—it was her mother, Shen Yulan.

Wen Yinong picked up: "Hey, Mom?"

"Nongnong, are you busy right now?" Shen Yulan's voice came through the receiver, her tone was as usual.

Wen Yinong put down her spoon: "Not really, I'm having dinner. What’s up?"

Shen Yulan: "Oh, you're eating. Do you have anything planned tonight?"

Wen Yinong: "It's the weekend, so I don't have any classes tonight... Is something urgent?"

Shen Yulan: "No. Just reminding you to call your grandma on video after dinner."

Wen Yinong laughed and readily agreed: "Sure." But still a bit curious, she asked: "Are Grandpa and Grandma not feeling well? Or something happened at home?"

Shen Yulan: "They're fine! They just miss you. They originally wanted you to come over for dinner tomorrow, but I said you're too busy working, spinning around like a top—no time for that. Just a quick video call is fine."

Wen Yinong was an only child, doted on by her grandparents, she was very devoted to her elders. After hearing her mother, she agreed without hesitation: "I'll find time to visit them later. I'll video them right after dinner."

"Mm."

After hanging up with her mother, Wen Yinong put down her phone and was about to continue eating, but then—ding ding ding!

A WeChat video call invitation popped up on the screen, showing a vibrant peony in full bloom.

Seeing her grandma's profile picture, Wen Yinong was taken aback. She declined the call and quickly typed an explanation: "Grandma, I'm having dinner now. I'll call you and Grandpa back later!"

After a few seconds, her grandma replied with one word: "Oh."

Then another message followed: "What's our Nongnong eating? Send a picture so Grandma and Grandpa can see!"

Reading this line of affectionate words, Wen Yinong's heart warmed and a smile unconsciously spread across her face. She picked up her phone, pointed it at the spread on the table, clicked, and sent it to her grandma.

Just as Wen Yinong looked down, smiling while replying to her grandma, out of nowhere, a voice came from across the table:

"Teacher Wen."

"..."

Wen Yinong's heart gave a lurch: Uh-oh.

Was he mad she was on her phone during dinner? But dinner wasn't part of her work hours, and the contract didn't say she can't reply to family messages during meals.

Thinking this over, to be safe, she quickly locked her phone, put it away, cleared her throat, and tried to explain: "I'm sorry, Mr. Mo, I..."

"What's your WeChat ID?"

His words caught her completely off guard. She let out a single sound: "Huh?"

"Texting is inconvenient." Mo Shaoshang lifted his gaze, his blue-black eyes fixed on her, his expression cool. "I tried adding you by phone number three times—no luck."