Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Outside the car window, the night was thick as ink, almost midnight. Deep autumn had settled in; the leaves of plane trees on both sides of the street rustled in the night breeze, a few breaking free from their branches to drift onto the empty sidewalks.

The city's hustle and bustle had subsided at this hour, leaving only the coolness and stillness of midnight.

Inside the car, it was warm as spring. Wen Yinong sat in the car, feeling the caress of the air conditioner's warm breeze, drowsiness washing over her.

The journey was silent, save for the faint hum of the car's steady movement.

In the early hours of the morning, the Rolls-Royce finally drove through the gates of the Mo Manor, proceeding along the quiet driveway before coming to a steady stop in the open space before the main building.

Chen Jin got out first and opened the car door.

The cool night air rushed in instantly, jolting Wen Yinong into alertness. She rubbed her eyes, and she and Mo Shaoshang got out, each from their own side.

"Thank you," Wen Yinong said to Chen Jin, her voice still a little hoarse from just waking up.

"You're welcome, Ms. Wen," Chen Jin nodded slightly.

The villa's hall was dead silent, with only the sound of footsteps echoing in the spacious area.

Yawning, Wen Yinong walked toward the elevator. Just as she was about to press the button, a sudden rumbling broke the silence.

The sound wasn't loud, but in the extreme silence, it was clear and abrupt.

Wen Yinong froze, realizing it was her stomach growling. Mortified, her cheeks flushed crimson. *Damn it.* She'd had dinner at the hospital but was too distracted to eat much; now, hours later, her stomach was empty and had chosen this inopportune moment to loudly broadcast its emptiness...

Mo Shaoshang was following not far behind and had clearly heard the growling.

He paused slightly, his brow furrowing almost unnoticeably.

He turned his gaze to Wen Yinong, who stood frozen, face flushed red, and asked, "You didn't have dinner?"

Hearing this, Wen Yinong quickly waved her hands, trying to hide her embarrassment. "I did. But I was worried about my grandfather's condition, so I wasn't very hungry and didn't eat much..."

Mo Shaoshang listened, his eyes fixed on her, but his mind couldn't help but recall that night by the pool.

The girl, drenched, her dress clinging to her slender, graceful curves. A typical East Asian girl's build—petite and delicate, skin nearly translucent, neck slender and fragile, limbs well-proportioned, waist so slim it seemed a light touch could snap it. Below, her hips were perfectly curved, forming a small, full peach shape; the waist-to-hip ratio was impeccable.

The soft curves of her chest, sculpted as if by water, swayed gently, alluring the heart.

Autumn nights hovered around ten degrees Celsius; the hall even felt chilly, but for some reason, Mo Shaoshang felt an inexplicable heat building in his lower abdomen, his throat tightening slightly.

His Adam's apple moved subtly, hidden by his sharp jawline.

Then he raised his hand to unbutton the top button of his black shirt, forcing himself to look away from her, fixing his gaze on the cold metal doors of the elevator.

After a two-second pause, he spoke, his voice lower than usual: "Wait a moment."

Wen Yinong was still wallowing in the mortification of the moment. Hearing this, she was taken aback, a dazed look in her eyes: "Huh?"

Mo Shaoshang said flatly, "I'll have Uncle Heng tell the chef to prepare something for you to eat."

Hearing this, Wen Yinong almost choked on her own spit and immediately refused without a second thought: "At this hour, Uncle Heng and the others are already asleep. How could I possibly bother them to get up and cook in the middle of the night? It's too much trouble. No need."

Mo Shaoshang: "It's their job, not a bother."

Wen Yinong was speechless.

She knew that in Mo Shaoshang's mind, since he paid their salaries, the chef team providing round-the-clock service was a given.

But he was the one paying them; they served him. She was just a live-in rehabilitation therapist. What right did she have to make them get up to cook at this hour?

Wen Yinong pondered this and shook her head again. "Really, no need, Mr. Mo. Thank you for your kindness. Forget it."

Mo Shaoshang looked at her again, his blue-black eyes focused and deep, carrying a persistence that wouldn't take no for an answer: "But you're hungry."

Wen Yinong was stunned.

There was a calm stubbornness in this man's attitude at this moment, and a hint of childishness that wouldn't be satisfied until he got his way—almost... endearing?

The thought startled her. *Endearing? She actually thought Mo Shaoshang was being endearing? She must be starving.*

Her mind in a slight tumult, she cleared her throat and added, "Actually, I'm not that hungry. I can manage. Once I fall asleep, I won't feel it."

But as if on cue, her stomach rumbled again, louder this time.

Instantly destroying the facade she had built.

Wen Yinong: "..."

Mo Shaoshang stared at her, his brow arching with interest.

Wen Yinong blushed even more, almost steaming. After a few seconds of thought, an idea surfaced from the depths of her mind. She looked up at Mo Shaoshang, summoning a hint of reckless courage, and suddenly asked, "What about you? Are you hungry?"

Mo Shaoshang's gaze froze, as if taken aback by the question. He didn't respond.

Wen Yinong cleared her throat, a tentative tone creeping into her voice: "Actually, I can cook. If you're also hungry, Mr. Mo, I can make something simple for both of us. That way, we can fill our stomachs without disturbing the chefs' rest—a win-win situation..."

She paused, then muttered under her breath, "Of course, if you're not hungry, forget it. Pretend I didn't say anything."

Mo Shaoshang's gaze swept over her flushed cheeks and her eyes, which flickered with anticipation and nervousness. A corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

"Let's go."

"..." Wen Yinong blinked, not catching on. "Go where?"

Mo Shaoshang had already turned and was walking toward the kitchen, saying nonchalantly, "Let's see what we have in the kitchen."

*

The Mo Manor's kitchen was spacious, divided into a Chinese cooking area and a Western cooking area. The Chinese area had a full range of stoves, with the exhaust system perfectly integrated into the ceiling. The Western area featured a massive central island, with built-in ovens, steamers, coffee machines, and more.

A wall of refrigerated cabinets and freezers served as a professional-grade pantry, displaying top-tier ingredients from around the world: Japanese wagyu with marbling as exquisite as marble, French Gillardeau oysters lying quietly on crushed ice, Italian black truffles carefully stored in a temperature-controlled container, along with various rare mushrooms and organic vegetables.

Mo Shaoshang and Wen Yinong walked one behind the other to the refrigerator, stopped, and opened it.

A burst of cold air hit them; the neatly organized ingredients were dazzling.

Browsing the dazzling array, Wen Yinong finally, keeping it simple and quick, took out two neatly packaged steaks and a piece of butter, placing them on the counter.

She picked up a knife, ready to trim the fat from the edges of the steak, when a figure moved beside her.

Wen Yinong glanced sideways to see Mo Shaoshang had already taken off his suit jacket, wearing only a black silk shirt and matching slim-fit trousers.

His sleeves were casually rolled up, revealing his lean, pale arms, giving him an air of sophistication and ease.

He walked straight to the sink, thoroughly washed his hands with hand sanitizer, and dried them with a towel. Then he casually tore off a sheet of paper towel and patted the steak dry with a paper towel.

He turned on the gas stove, and a blue flame instantly leaped up.

At the same time, Mo Shaoshang took a heavy-bottomed pan and placed it on the stove. Once the pan was slightly warm, he added the butter he had just taken out. The butter quickly melted in the pan, releasing a rich buttery aroma. As the steak hit the pan, a subtle sizzling sound filled the air, with tiny oil droplets splattering.

His movements were fluid and calm, without any trace of a novice's nervousness or clumsiness. Every step was precise and practiced, elegant enough to be a delight to watch.

It was as if he were conducting a meticulous experiment.

Watching this scene, Wen Yinong's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. She couldn't help blurting out, "Mr. Mo, you... you can actually pan-fry a steak?"

Using tongs, Mo Shaoshang flipped the steak, glanced at her, and said in a matter-of-fact tone, "Is that so strange?"

Wen Yinong nodded honestly. "You have a team of professional chefs here, so there should be no need for you to cook yourself. It is a bit strange..."

Mo Shaoshang said calmly, "This is my first time cooking a steak." He paused, then added flatly, "If it doesn't taste good, I hope you'll understand, Ms. Wen."

First time?

Wen Yinong was dumbfounded, finding it even harder to believe. "But you look so skilled, not at all like someone cooking for the first time." She paused, her curiosity fully aroused, and couldn't help asking, "Who taught you?"

Mo Shaoshang shook his head, his expression serene. "No one taught me."

Since childhood, Mo Shaoshang had been rigorously trained as the heir to the Mo family. What he had to learn went far beyond basic school subjects. It was a comprehensive system integrating knowledge, mentality, social connections, and vision—vast and demanding.

Aside from mastering finance, macro- and microeconomics, and strategic management, he also had to systematically learn leadership development, communication and negotiation skills, extreme emotional management, adversity quotient improvement, top-tier global etiquette and social skills, multiple languages, humanities and history, art appreciation, and various elite sports such as horseback riding, fencing, and golf...

Cooking was not on that list.

Wen Yinong blinked skeptically. "Then how did you learn to cook steak?"

Mo Shaoshang: "I watched the chef do it a few times."

This answer left Wen Yinong completely speechless. Just watching a few times, and he could replicate it perfectly. What kind of observation, memory, and execution was that?

Wen Yinong didn't know what to say, so she remained silent.

Soon, two pan-fried steaks were plated on warmed white porcelain dishes, accompanied by asparagus and cherry tomatoes as garnishes, beautifully arranged.

The two sat across from each other at the long table in the dining room.

Wen Yinong picked up her knife and fork, carefully cut a piece of steak, forked it, and put it into her mouth, chewing slowly.

The meat was tender and juicy, crispy on the outside and tender inside, with the butter's aroma fully infused. The taste was surprisingly good.

Her eyes lit up, and she immediately praised generously, "It's delicious."

Mo Shaoshang gave a faint smile. "Thank you for the compliment." As he spoke, he picked up his own knife and fork.

Wen Yinong instinctively glanced at Mo Shaoshang's plate.

The next second, the sharp blade cut into a small piece of meat from the edge, and in the blink of an eye, dark red blood seeped out along the grain of the beef, starkly visible on the white plate...

Seeing that his portion was almost completely raw, out of concern, Wen Yinong blurted out, "Yours still has a lot of blood. You might want to pan-fry it a bit more..." Her voice trailed off.

Mo Shaoshang parted his thin lips slightly, put the blood-soaked piece of beef into his mouth, and chewed slowly and elegantly. After a moment, his Adam's apple moved as he swallowed the meat.

"..." Wen Yinong swallowed dryly, unable to stop herself from imagining the chilling scene of this refined man calmly tearing and crunching raw meat with his snow-white, neat teeth.

Almost involuntarily, she thought of a beast in hunting mode on the prairie—primitive, brutal, and terrifying.

A night breeze blew in from the half-open window of the dining room, carrying the chill of late autumn. Wen Yinong shivered slightly.

Across from her.

Swallowing the meat, Mo Shaoshang lifted his eyelashes to look at her, his tone still gentle yet casual. "What were you about to say, Ms. Wen?"

Wen Yinong quickly pulled her thoughts back, lowered her head, and took a bite of her own steak to hide her inner turmoil. "Nothing. I just saw that your steak was a bit raw and wanted to suggest you pan-fry it a bit more."

Mo Shaoshang said flatly, "I'm used to it."

Wen Yinong ate in silence, no longer speaking, but her mind still lingered on the impact of that scene.

When she returned to her room, it was already past one in the morning.

After saying goodnight to Mo Shaoshang and closing the door, the oppressive pressure in the surrounding air finally vanished.

Wen Yinong let out a long breath.

Spending two hours with this employer was more draining than taking care of a child for a whole day, she thought miserably.

*

The next morning, Wen Yinong received a call from her mother, Shen Yulan.

On the phone, Shen Yulan told her that all of her grandfather's test results were back. After a comprehensive evaluation of various indicators, the doctors confirmed that aside from being diagnosed with vertigo, he also had mild hypertension. But neither was a life-threatening issue. He just needed a few more days of IV treatment and observation, and could be discharged once he was out of danger.

Hearing this, the last heavy weight in Wen Yinong's heart finally lifted.

She then turned all her attention back to Ari.

In the evening, an autumn rain began to fall over Jinghai, pattering softly. The damp smell of earth and the fresh scent of grass mingled, permeating the air.

Wen Yinong put Ari in his raincoat and rain boots and took the little boy to the wooden boardwalk by the artificial lake in the manor.

While they enjoyed the rainy atmosphere, she did sensory stimulation exercises.

A small patch of ground had puddled with rainwater. The two of them were absorbed in stomping in puddles and jumping into water holes, having a blast.

Just then, out of nowhere, the sound of footsteps and raindrops hitting an umbrella came from the rain behind them.

Sensing something, Wen Yinong turned around instinctively.

In the misty drizzle, Uncle Heng approached slowly under a black umbrella, with a tall, slender figure beside him. Soon, the two approached. As the umbrella tilted up slightly, a refined, handsome face came into Wen Yinong's view.

Wen Yinong's eyes widened in surprise.

Before she could say anything, Uncle Heng said with a smile, "Ms. Wen, this is Mr. Pei Xizhou. He came especially today to see the young master."

After hearing Uncle Heng's words, Wen Yinong stood frozen, staring at Pei Xizhou, whose temperament was elegant and refined in the rain, unable to snap out of it for a long moment.

Pei Xizhou coming to the Mo Manor... to see Ari?

It was too much information for her to take in at once.

At that moment, Pei Xizhou strode over on his long legs. He walked straight to Ari, crouched down, gently pinched the little boy's soft face, and smiled gently, his voice as gentle as the autumn rain. "Ari, it's been a long time. Have you missed Uncle Pei?"

Ari didn't have much reaction to the sudden appearance of the young man.

His blue eyes were a bit vacant, staring blankly at the distant lake, watching the raindrops create ripples on its surface. He didn't answer, didn't respond, didn't even look at Pei Xizhou, completely immersed in his own world.

Pei Xizhou didn't seem surprised. He rubbed Ari's head again, then turned to Wen Yinong and asked gently with a smile, "May I play with Ari for a while?"

Wen Yinong gazed back at Pei Xizhou's sincere and gentle eyes, then looked at Ari. She noticed that although the child hadn't responded to the man, he also didn't show any rejection or discomfort toward the change in his surroundings.

After pondering for a few seconds, she nodded, then consciously walked over to stand beside Uncle Heng, leaving the space to the man and the child.

Moments later, Ari crouched down, picked up a few fallen leaves from the rain-soaked mud, and arranged them into the shape of a small boat. Pei Xizhou watched him carefully. Before long, he did the same, picking up leaves to build his own leaf boat.

Raindrops pattered, falling into the lake as well as onto their umbrellas. There was no verbal communication between the man and the child—only silent companionship and imitation. The atmosphere was calm and harmonious.

Watching Pei Xizhou and Ari from a distance, driven by strong curiosity, Wen Yinong, after much deliberation, finally couldn't help lowering her voice to ask Uncle Heng, "Uncle Heng, what is the relationship between Mr. Pei and Ari?"

Uncle Heng gazed at the two figures by the lake, a mix of affection and complexity in his eyes. After hearing Wen Yinong's question, his expression dimmed slightly. He paused for a moment before slowly replying, "The Pei and Mo families were once close family friends. When Mr. Pei was seven years old, his parents tragically passed away in an accident, and he became an orphan. The old master felt for the young boy, having no one to rely on at such a tender age, so he took him in and raised him to adulthood."

Wen Yinong's eyes flickered with emotion, a ripple stirring in her heart.

She hadn't expected Dr. Pei to have such a deep connection with the Mo family, nor had she imagined his life had been so fraught with hardship... What a tragic fate.

Losing both parents at age seven.

Wasn't that somewhat similar to Ari's current situation?

No wonder Pei Xizhou looked at Ari with such tenderness and compassion—perhaps he saw his own younger self through the boy.

Wen Yinong felt a pang of sorrow. After a moment's thought, she added, "Judging by Mr. Pei's appearance, he seems to be about the same age as Mr. Mo. Since the old master raised him from age seven, he must have been very close to Mr. Mo. But I've never seen him before, and no one has ever mentioned him."

Uncle Heng curved his lips in a smile that seemed to carry a different meaning. He shook his head and explained, "Mr. Mo mainly grew up in Europe, receiving his education and training there. By the time he returned to China to officially take over the Mo Group, Mr. Pei had already gone abroad for further studies and rarely came back. The two had little interaction."

So that was it. Wen Yinong suddenly understood.

According to Uncle Heng, Pei Xizhou had been raised by the old master and, to some extent, grew up in the Mo household. Meanwhile, Mo Shaoshang only returned from abroad as an adult.

Perhaps when the old master was still alive, these two equally outstanding young men of similar age could maintain a semblance of friendship and balance.

But now, with the old master gone and the entire Mo empire passed into Mo Shaoshang's hands, Pei Xizhou—an "outsider"—naturally became more distanced from the family, their relationship growing strained and complicated.

The rain gradually stopped. On the western horizon, the dark clouds parted slightly, and the setting sun struggled to break through, casting golden rays that scattered like fragments of gold across half the sky.

By the lakeside, after finishing their leaf boats, Pei Xizhou and Ari began digging in the mud together with small sticks.

By the time dinner approached, Ari had turned into a little mud-caked kitten—not only his clothes but even his face was dotted with mud stains.

The nanny hurried over upon hearing the news, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. Together with Uncle Heng, she took Ari to wash up and change clothes before starting dinner preparations.

Only Wen Yinong and Pei Xizhou remained by the artificial lake.

The autumn wind blew gently.

Noticing the mud stains on Pei Xizhou's hand, Wen Yinong walked over, took an individually wrapped wet wipe from her pocket, and handed it to him.

"Thank you." Pei Xizhou took the wipe, thanked her, and cleaned the mud from his slender fingers. Then he stood up and tossed the used wipe into the trash bin.

Wen Yinong looked at him, breaking into a sincere smile, and exclaimed, "Dr. Pei, I really didn't expect to see you here. What a coincidence."

"Indeed, quite a coincidence." Pei Xizhou curved his lips in a smile, straightened up, and his gaze rested on her face, warm and amused. His tone carried a hint of teasing, "I heard from Uncle Heng before that Mo Shaoshang had hired a very professional rehabilitation specialist for Ari, and the intervention was showing great results. I was curious about who this expert was. I never thought it would be you."

Hearing this, Wen Yinong chuckled and waved her hand, saying, "Dr. Pei, don't tease me. Compared to a real medical expert like you, I'm barely a half-baked amateur, still learning constantly."

"Teacher Wen is being modest." Pei Xizhou smiled, his kind eyes sparkling. "You are my nephew's rehabilitation teacher, and I happen to be your grandfather's attending physician. By that logic, we are quite fated."

Hearing this, Wen Yinong raised an eyebrow playfully, nodded with feigned solemnity, and chimed in, "Mm, Dr. Pei is right. We really are quite fated."

They exchanged smiles, the atmosphere light and relaxed.

As they chatted, they walked side by side toward the villa's dining room.

As if suddenly remembering something, Pei Xizhou turned his head to look at the young woman beside him. "Oh, by the way, your grandfather's comprehensive evaluation report is out. It's confirmed to be vertigo and mild hypertension. Nothing major—just take his medication on time and watch his diet. No need to worry."

"Mm, I know." Wen Yinong gave him a grateful smile, her eyes curving like crescents. "My mother already called and told me. Still, thank you, Dr. Pei. I appreciate your hard work."

Pei Xizhou's smile was casual, his tone gentle. "Healing the sick and saving lives is my duty. It's my responsibility. No need to thank me."

Just then, a breeze carrying the coolness after the rain suddenly swept by, lifting a few fallen leaves from the ground.

Pei Xizhou noticed something and paused slightly in his steps.

Sensing his pause, Wen Yinong also stopped and blinked in puzzlement. "What's wrong?"

Not far away, on the open-air viewing terrace on the third floor of the villa.

*

Mo Shaoshang lowered his gaze, looking at the boardwalk by the artificial lake, his expression blank.

In his field of vision, the tall man looked at the young woman without speaking, naturally stepped closer to her, and reached out a hand to pluck a small leaf from her slightly tousled curls. The young woman was startled for a moment, then seemed embarrassed, her cheeks flushing slightly as she smiled and said something to the man.

The distance was too great for Mo Shaoshang to hear their exact conversation, but under the setting sun after the rain, the man and woman smiled at each other, behaving intimately. This scene, like a "perfect match," struck Mo Shaoshang as extremely jarring.

The documents in his hand crumpled under his grip.

How many times had she shown that kind of unguarded smile to other men?

The man who had walked her out of the bar, that Frenchman of Latin descent named Sebastian, and now Pei Xizhou.

Why had she never smiled at him like that?

Why could another man so easily achieve the closeness and touch he had fantasized about countless times?

Mo Shaoshang stared fixedly at that charming, smiling face. Deep in his blue-black eyes, a storm silently gathered and churned.

The thread of "reason" in his mind was stretched to its limit, almost on the verge of snapping.

A powerful, irresistible possessiveness—dark and pathological—like a beast breaking free from its cage, swept through Mo Shaoshang's entire mind in a matter of seconds.

He wanted to possess her.

He wanted her eyes to see only him, her ears to hear only him, her soft lips to smile only for him, and to bear only his fierce yet tender kisses.

He wanted to imprint his mark on her, inside and out, to make her his forever.

She was his.

Only his.

His alone.