In the hushed quiet of the office, a subtle warmth, laced with tender ambiguity, spread gently through the air. The very atmosphere seemed to shift, growing delicate and charged. For a fleeting moment, time itself appeared to pause—frozen in the soft, unspoken tension.
In Mo Xiuchen's room, the pace slowed deliberately. He wished not to hasten the end of this heart-stirring instant. Wen Ran tilted her body slightly as he brushed her hair, and though his hands moved, his gaze never strayed from her delicate features. The longer he lingered in her presence, the deeper his feelings rooted.
This inexplicable, reasonless emotion felt preordained, as though shaped by fate in a previous life. Over the past twenty-eight years, he had seen women of every kind—willowy or curvaceous, elegant or bold. Even with rumors of his impotence spreading through G City, there had been no shortage of women flinging themselves into his arms.
And yet, never had a woman captured his heart at first sight—until Wen Ran. From the moment their eyes met, she stirred within him the same inexplicable pull he'd once felt, years ago, in that fleeting encounter with another girl.
Lost in thought, his fingers inadvertently caught a strand of her hair. When she let out a soft cry of pain, he snapped back to awareness, regret flickering in his eyes. "I'm sorry—I hurt you."
Wen Ran lifted her gaze into the deep pools of his eyes and smiled gently. "It's nothing. I'm done brushing. I'll tie it up myself."
"No need. It looks perfect as it is."
Mo Xiuchen softened his expression, the corners of his lips curving into a tender smile.
"All right," she responded obediently. His smile was too captivating, too disarming—leaving her powerless to refuse.
"What kind of fruit does Cheng Jia like? Let's pick some up for her later," Wen Ran asked softly, turning to glance at Mo Xiuchen as the Aston cruised steadily down the wide boulevard.
His eyes remained fixed on the road ahead. "I don't really know. Just grab a fruit basket—whatever you think is fine."
She laughed lightly, with a playful glint in her eye. "If you say so, then I'll just pick at random. If she doesn't like it, don't blame me."
Mo Xiuchen turned his head, his gaze locking with hers, calm but resolute. "Apart from me, there's no one else you need to please."
The implication was clear—her mere willingness to visit Cheng Jia was already more than generous.
If she didn't wish to go, he would never force her.
Last night's anger had stemmed from the fear that she didn't care. What he longed for was a love that returned his devotion in kind. Call it possessiveness, call it selfishness—he simply didn't want to be the only one giving.
Wen Ran's heart gave a subtle tremble. She thought she understood him, yet part of her still wavered. Afraid to misread, she remained silent.
Mo Xiuchen didn't press for an answer. At the traffic light, he turned the car onto another street and gently changed the subject. "Yesterday afternoon, I passed the construction site with Engineer Xia, who's overseeing the commercial tower project. Suddenly, a brick fell from the rooftop. Cheng Jia was walking behind us. If she hadn't pushed me out of the way... it might have struck my head."
Wen Ran listened quietly, not interrupting.
The night before, he'd merely mentioned that Cheng Jia was injured protecting him, without further detail. Back home, he hadn't elaborated either. Since Gu Kai had already explained the basics, she hadn't thought to ask.
She hadn't expected him to volunteer the whole story now.
As he spoke, Mo Xiuchen noticed her brows draw together in concern. His heart softened. He reached out and took her hand, his voice low and warm. "I kept Cheng Jia nearby—not because of any personal interest—but because I need to investigate something."
Wen Ran's clear eyes flickered with surprise. The warmth of his palm seeped into her heart like sunlight melting frost. Looking into his gentle gaze, her heartbeat skipped. She turned away shyly and murmured, "I know you're not that kind of man."
Watching him treat another woman with care made her uncomfortable—not because she suspected a romantic entanglement, but because something within her had begun to change.
She wasn't sure whether the change was a blessing—or a warning.
Falling for someone isn't difficult. The fear lies in not being able to love them forever. If one day he fell for someone else and asked for a divorce, it would break her.
Having witnessed Bai Xiaoxiao's pain and experienced Mo Zixuan's betrayal, Wen Ran had grown cautious when it came to matters of the heart.
Moreover, Cheng Jia was the woman Mo Xiuchen had been searching for over a decade—the one who had once saved his life. If he'd held onto that thread of hope all these years, her place in his heart could not be trivial.
At the hospital, Mo Xiuchen parked the car. Together, they bought a fruit basket from a nearby shop. He carried the basket in one hand and held Wen Ran's hand with the other as they walked into the hospital.
They made a striking pair. Mo Xiuchen, already admired by many at Koning Hospital, drew countless stares the moment they stepped into the lobby. Embarrassed, Wen Ran tried to withdraw her hand, but he tightened his grip, refusing to let go.
She looked up, only to meet his gaze. He leaned in, whispering softly by her ear, "I'm helping you."
Wen Ran blinked in confusion. How was holding her hand helping?
He chuckled at her innocent bewilderment and added kindly, "There are plenty of women here who admire your husband. Don't forget what I said last night."
Her eyes widened. Now she understood—and her heart fluttered.
From the elevator, they walked hand in hand to Cheng Jia's room, just one floor below where Wen Jin was recovering.
As Mo Xiuchen reached for the doorknob, the door suddenly opened from within. The private nurse, startled, smiled brightly. "Young Master Mo, you've arrived!"
He gave a faint nod. The nurse stepped aside courteously.
On the hospital bed, Cheng Jia looked up and saw him—tall and radiant at the doorway. Her eyes sparkled like stars. From her angle, Wen Ran was hidden behind the nurse.
All her attention fixated on Mo Xiuchen's refined features. At first, she didn't even see Wen Ran.
Before her joy could fully bloom, the nurse's next words shattered the illusion. Smiling as she took the fruit basket, she greeted, "Young Master Mo, Miss Wen, please come in."
Though Cheng Jia's parents were abroad and unfamiliar with Mo Xiuchen, the nurse recognized Wen Ran—especially after Gu Shao had shown her such favor during Wen Jin's month-long stay.
Cheng Jia's gaze shifted—and only then did she notice Wen Ran. But what pierced her heart most wasn't Wen Ran's presence—it was the way Mo Xiuchen held her hand.
Though the two entered one after the other, Mo Xiuchen soon stopped, turned, and gazed at Wen Ran with tenderness before addressing Cheng Jia.
"Cheng Jia, Ranran heard you were hurt protecting me and wanted to visit early this morning. Some matters on-site delayed us, so we're only just arriving."
His voice was calm and smooth, neither overly grateful nor cold. For outsiders, the mere fact that the famously aloof Young Master Mo spoke gently to any woman was rare.
But Cheng Jia heard the distance in his words—how he addressed her with full name formality, and Wen Ran with soft intimacy.
The warmth in his expression hadn't bloomed for her—it had flickered only when he looked at Wen Ran.
Wen Ran noted Cheng Jia's shifting expression. With a slight smile, she withdrew her hand from Mo Xiuchen's and approached the bed. "Miss Cheng, thank you for pushing Xiuchen out of harm's way yesterday. He told me your injuries aren't minor. Since your parents are abroad, don't worry about anything else—just focus on healing. I've asked Zhang Ma to bring you meals daily. If you crave anything, just let her know."
Cheng Jia's emotions churned—a mix of sorrow, anger, envy, and unwillingness.
She had hoped that by saving him again, his feelings toward her might change.
Instead, today he came—hand in hand with another woman.
And still, her heart yearned.
Seeing her gaze linger on him, Mo Xiuchen finally looked away from Wen Ran. Meeting Cheng Jia's eyes, now heavy with unshed tears, he stepped forward and added, "Ranran is right. Just rest and recover. Don't worry about anything else."
Hidden beneath her blanket, Cheng Jia's fingers clenched.
But as he neared, her hope surged once more.
He pulled up a chair—not to comfort her—but to offer it to Wen Ran. "Ranran, don't stand. Sit and talk."
Startled, she met his eyes and smiled faintly before sitting gracefully.
"Mo Shao, don't stand either. Sit here on the bed," Cheng Jia offered, scooting inward.
There was only one chair in the room—she'd had the sofa removed deliberately so that when he visited, he'd have no choice but to sit close.
But Mo Xiuchen ignored her hopeful gaze. Smiling gently at Wen Ran, he said, "I have something to discuss with A'Kai. Ranran, finish your chat and come find me in his office."
Cheng Jia's face fell. "You just arrived… and now you're leaving?"
He nodded. "Ranran speaks for me. If you need anything, tell her—it'll be easier."
Then, turning to Wen Ran, he said, "Call me if you need anything," and strode away.
Cheng Jia bit her lip, watching him go with eyes full of reluctant longing.
Wen Ran remained seated, expression serene. She mused to herself—Cheng Jia made no effort to conceal her affection for Mo Xiuchen, not from her, and certainly not from him.
She didn't know whether to call her devoted—or shameless.
Loving someone isn't wrong—but loving without moral restraint, knowing he has a wife and still pursuing him, is shameless.
Even if she ends up wounded, pity is not deserved.
"Miss Cheng, if you need anything, please don't hesitate. Xiuchen and I will do our best to accommodate you."
Wen Ran cleared her throat gently, her calm voice cutting through Cheng Jia's fantasies.
With Mo Xiuchen gone, Cheng Jia dropped her pretense. Her eyes landed on Wen Ran's face—still beautiful, despite the faint pink scar on her cheek.
She imagined the injury at its worst, secretly wondering why it hadn't ruined her face entirely.
"Miss Cheng?"
Wen Ran frowned slightly as she called again.
Cheng Jia snapped back to reality and said coolly, "I don't need anything. If you have nothing else, please leave. I'd like to rest."
Wen Ran merely smiled, unaffected. Her gaze drifted to the bandage on Cheng Jia's forehead. "You're injured, Miss Cheng. Please keep a cheerful spirit. If you don't feel like talking to me, you can speak to Xiuchen instead."
"Can you really meet all my needs?" Cheng Jia asked, voice laced with mockery.
She hated how casually Wen Ran addressed Mo Xiuchen—just as she hated hearing him call her 'Ranran.'
Wen Ran narrowed her eyes slightly, then regained her calm. "That depends on whether your requests are reasonable. Why don't you try me? And even if I can't—there's still Xiuchen. You are his savior, after all. I'm sure he'll do his utmost to oblige."