At noon, Mo Xiuchen dined with Wen Ran.
When he dropped her off at the pharmaceutical company, he mentioned that Qin Mu and Li Qian would be heading to the airport together that afternoon to receive their guests.
He had also arranged the dinner plans for the evening.
Wen Ran thanked him with a gentle smile. Upon returning to her office, she called Wen Jin.
Just as the call ended, a knock came from outside the door. Putting away her phone, Wen Ran responded, "Come in." The polished, crimson wood door was pushed open. Zhou Mingfu, leaning heavily on a cane and supported by Zhou Lin, appeared at the threshold.
"Ranran, my father insisted on coming back to work. He said he couldn't rest easy at home," Zhou Lin explained helplessly, helping Zhou Mingfu into the office.
Wen Ran was briefly taken aback but quickly understood Zhou Lin's meaning as their eyes met. She had clearly tried to persuade Zhou Mingfu to retire, but he had refused.
She rose from behind her desk, her gaze flickering briefly to Zhou Mingfu's injured leg, before offering a warm, concerned smile. "Uncle Zhou, is your leg feeling any better? What brings you back to work so urgently?"
Zhou Mingfu, his plump face donned in feigned benevolence, looked at Wen Ran and said, "With your parents gone and your brother still in the hospital, you're left to manage the pharmaceutical company alone. I can't help but worry. Especially now, when I've heard those medicinal suppliers have conspired to raise prices. Ranran, what are your thoughts on this?"
A cold sneer flickered across Wen Ran's heart. So this was his real motive—he had come straight to the point, afraid she might reject the overpriced supplies.
Clearly, he was unaware that those suppliers would be arriving in G City within two hours.
She furrowed her brows and feigned anger. "They raised prices by twenty percent without cause. Of course I won't buy from them. Do they truly believe our Wen Corporation is incapable of sourcing medicinal herbs elsewhere?"
A sharp gleam flashed in Zhou Mingfu's eyes. Seeing the unrestrained anger on Wen Ran's face, he inwardly scoffed. In his eyes, she was still an inexperienced girl—clever, perhaps, but no match for him.
Although Wen Jin was still managing company affairs from his hospital bed, he remained, ultimately, a patient, with limited strength.
Zhou Mingfu's thoughts drifted briefly to the hidden bug—its placement still a mystery to him. Was it Wen Ran and her brother behind it? If not, then who? What infuriated him most was his complete ignorance of when and how it had been planted on him.
"Ranran, if we refuse those herbs, wouldn't that mean halting production?" Zhou Mingfu said, feigning concern.
His tone was earnest, as though genuinely worried for the company. In the past, Wen Ran might have been fooled.
She gestured toward the sofa with a calm expression. "Uncle Zhou, don't just stand there. Please, have a seat."
Zhou Mingfu nodded and, with Zhou Lin's help, settled into the sofa.
Once seated opposite him, Wen Ran remained composed as he continued, "Ranran, no matter how expensive those herbs are, we should still purchase a portion. Even if we buy less for now, prices may drop later."
He was convinced that Wen Ran had no choice but to purchase at least some of the herbs. Although she had borrowed some supplies from the Mo Corporation earlier, they wouldn't suffice.
At the recent herb trade fair, Zhou Mingfu had expected Wen Ran to fail at securing any orders. But her unexpected public connection to Mo Xiuchen had completely turned the tide in her favor.
Not only had she emerged victorious, but she had also narrowly escaped a kidnapping, even surviving a fall from a cliff.
As Xiao Wenqing had said, Wen Ran seemed to possess uncanny luck—always slipping past danger, always aided by someone.
She'd survived a car crash, drugging attempt, and kidnapping, and even won the heart of the notoriously aloof Mo Xiuchen. Not only Zhou Mingfu but also Xiao Wenqing and even Cheng Jia, the woman Xiao had cultivated for ten years to charm Mo Xiuchen, all wished for her disappearance.
"Uncle Zhou, what are you thinking about?" Wen Ran asked calmly.
Lost in his dark thoughts, Zhou Mingfu had failed to mask the malice in his expression. Her voice jolted him back, and facing Wen Ran's steady gaze, he suddenly felt exposed, as though stripped bare.
It was an unsettling feeling.
"I was thinking about those damned herb merchants," he muttered hastily.
Wen Ran seemed to accept the excuse. She gave him a faint, reassuring smile. "There's no need to be upset, Uncle Zhou. I won't let them take advantage of us. If they want to extort us, we simply won't buy from them."
"But we still need—"
Zhou Mingfu grew anxious. If Wen Ran refused to buy the herbs, all his plans would collapse.
He had to convince her.
But Wen Ran cut him off swiftly. "Uncle Zhou, leave the company matters to me. Your priority should be rest. A muscle injury takes a hundred days to heal. Don't neglect it. Besides, Alin's wedding with Mo Zixuan still needs your help in planning. She's marrying into G City's most prestigious family—it can't be handled carelessly."
Zhou Lin, who had been silent, lit up with excitement. "Dad, Ranran is right. Let the company be for now. Help me with the wedding preparations. Every detail must be perfect."
Zhou Mingfu's expression darkened slightly. He was annoyed with Zhou Lin—lately, she had constantly opposed him. Love had clearly dulled her senses—how foolish.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Wen Ran's phone rang.
"Uncle Zhou, I've got work to do. Please rest well," she said, rising and pulling out her phone as she walked back to her desk.
Behind her, Zhou Mingfu's gaze turned vicious, and he glared angrily at Zhou Lin.
"I'll call Zixuan and ask him to come pick us up," Zhou Lin said, avoiding his gaze and dialing.
The call was from Cheng Jia.
Seated again in her sleek, leather chair, Wen Ran answered calmly, "Hello."
"Miss Wen, it's Cheng Jia."
The voice on the line was unexpectedly polite. Had it not been for the unchanged tone, Wen Ran might have doubted her ears. Faced with this usually sharp-tongued woman now speaking with courtesy, a faint smirk touched her lips—it felt like a weasel offering New Year's greetings to a hen.
"What is it?"
She asked mildly, her gaze drifting to Zhou Lin, who was speaking sweetly on her call, her features radiant with affection—clearly smitten with Mo Zixuan.
"Miss Wen, do you have time? There's something I'd like to discuss with you in person. It concerns Mo Shao," Cheng Jia said, emphasizing "Mo Shao" deliberately.
Wen Ran's brow furrowed. What could Cheng Jia want that required a face-to-face meeting?
If it truly concerned Mo Xiuchen, was it tied to Xiao Wenqing? Or was Cheng Jia merely using his name as a pretense?
"If it's about him, why not speak to him directly?"
In the presence of Zhou Mingfu and Zhou Lin, Wen Ran refrained from mentioning Mo Xiuchen's or Cheng Jia's names. Regardless of any collusion, they were now in-laws, and she had no intention of revealing too much.
"I'm afraid he wouldn't want to see me. I didn't finish what I had to say last night, and he was already upset. Miss Wen, I'd rather you told him—he'd listen to you."
Cheng Jia's tone carried remorse and sincerity, as though genuinely wanting what's best for Mo Xiuchen.
Wen Ran remained silent, and Cheng Jia added softly, with a trace of sorrow, "If you don't want to meet, that's fine. I'll wait until Mo Shao is in a better mood before calling again. I just hope I'm not too late."
"When and where?" Wen Ran asked flatly.
Since it involved Mo Xiuchen, she couldn't refuse outright.
Cheng Jia provided the details, and Wen Ran agreed. As she hung up, she heard Zhou Lin's sweet voice from the couch: "Zixuan, my dad and I are in Ranran's office. If you're free, could you come pick us up?"
A flash of sharpness gleamed in Wen Ran's eyes. Zhou Lin was clever—she was using this visit to draw Mo Zixuan to Wen Ran's company.
Although Wen Ran couldn't hear his response, the smile on Zhou Lin's face said it all—he had agreed.
"Dad, if you have anything else to say to Ranran, say it now. Zixuan will be here soon," Zhou Lin said, looking at Wen Ran as she ended the call.
Zhou Mingfu's expression darkened again. He had more to say to Wen Ran, but if Mo Zixuan came, he wouldn't risk the two crossing paths.
"That's all for now. Since Zixuan is coming, let's go downstairs. No need to trouble him to come all the way up."
He stood. Behind her desk, Wen Ran remained seated and said calmly, "I still have work to attend to. I won't walk you out. Alin, be careful helping Uncle Zhou—don't let him fall."
Zhou Lin smiled and nodded. "Don't worry, I'll take care of him. Ranran, we'll leave you to your work."
She had told Mo Zixuan that her father was meeting with Wen Ran, hoping he'd seize the opportunity to see her.
Mo Zixuan had heard Wen Ran's voice on the call, and even if Zhou Lin didn't wait for him, he wouldn't want to miss the chance to see her.
He could no longer bring himself to pester her—he could only hope for chance encounters like this.
Once they left, Wen Ran finally called Mo Xiuchen.
He didn't pick up immediately—he was likely busy. She set the phone down, took a sip of water, and just as she was about to end the call, he answered.
"Ranran, I'm in a meeting. I'll call you back shortly."
His voice was low and magnetic, tinged with the weariness of a difficult meeting.
Wen Ran swallowed the words she had meant to say and simply replied, "Alright."
Later, as she drove to meet Cheng Jia, Mo Xiuchen called back.
"You just finished the meeting?" Wen Ran asked softly, noting that Zhou Mingfu and Zhou Lin were waiting across the street at a café, Mo Zixuan not yet arrived.
"Mm. Just finished. Did Mo Zixuan go to your company?"
"How did you know? When I left, he hadn't arrived. Zhou Lin called him."
"I figured. He left the meeting early—that alone is suspicious. And Zhou Mingfu is behind the herb scheme. He must have gone to ask your response."
Mo Xiuchen's voice held a cool undercurrent, his meaning clear to Wen Ran, who quietly admired his sharp instincts.
From Mo Zixuan's eagerness, he had deduced that the real reason for his visit was Wen Ran.
And now, using Zhou Lin's phone call as an excuse, Mo Xiuchen could suppress even those who tried to shield Mo Zixuan—his ruthlessness unmatched.
"Mm. Zhou Mingfu tried to pressure me into buying the herbs, not knowing the suppliers are arriving this afternoon," Wen Ran replied.
She paused at a red light, her eyes sweeping over the dashboard.
Mo Xiuchen didn't press further but instead asked gently, "Ranran, are you outside?"
She heard the honk of cars around her and replied honestly, "Yes. Before I called you, I spoke with Cheng Jia. She asked to meet—said it's about you."
Mo Xiuchen's voice deepened. "She wants to see you? Did she say what it's about?"
Though Cheng Jia had revealed her identity, Mo Xiuchen still didn't fully trust her—nor did he like Wen Ran meeting her alone.