Hearing the concern in Mo Xiuchen's voice, Wen Ran felt a wave of warmth wash over her. A gentle softness bloomed between her brows as she softly replied, "She only said it was something related to you. She didn't tell me the specifics."
On the other end of the line, Mo Xiuchen's handsome brows knit slightly. Given Cheng Jia's feelings toward him, if it truly concerned him, why didn't she come to him directly? Why seek out Wen Ran instead?
"Ranran, where did she ask to meet you?"
After a brief pause, Mo Xiuchen asked, still unable to set his mind at ease.
As the traffic light turned green, Wen Ran resumed driving and told him the name of the café. She added lightly, "Don't worry. It's broad daylight—she won't be able to do anything to me, and she's not foolish enough to try."
"I'll come over in a bit. Keep your phone on."
Mo Xiuchen spoke as he grabbed his car keys and stepped out from behind his desk. Wen Ran heard a knock on the other end of the call—someone had come to deliver documents. Mo Xiuchen simply said, "Leave them on the desk," then strode out of the office.
Wen Ran felt a twinge of guilt. Initially, she had been wary of Cheng Jia's intentions, but later realized that if Cheng Jia meant any harm, then her confession the night before would have been meaningless.
"You should focus on work. There's no need to rush over."
"But I can't stop worrying about you."
Mo Xiuchen was already outside, striding toward the elevator.
He was indeed extremely busy. Mo Jingteng remained hospitalized, and all the affairs of the group now rested on his shoulders. Tomorrow, Mo Jingteng would hold a board meeting to officially announce his appointment as president.
The media had already been informed. At such a critical moment, Wen Ran didn't want him to be distracted by anything else. Even tonight's dinner with the herbal medicine suppliers—she preferred to have Qin Mu attend on his behalf.
Though Mo Xiuchen was indispensable to MS Group, Xiao Wenqing would not sit idle. She was bound to find ways to make things difficult for him. And Wen Ran could not bear to see Mo Xiuchen being set up or wronged.
"There's no need to worry—I'm almost there. And I won't hang up. You'll hear everything I say to Cheng Jia."
Mo Xiuchen stood silently before the elevator for a moment before finally agreeing, albeit reluctantly, "Alright. Just don't hang up."
He truly was overwhelmed, just as Wen Ran had feared. In recent days, Xiao Wenqing had done everything in her power to obstruct his ascension to the presidency. Unfortunately for her, her own son had failed to rise to the occasion and had even thrown in the towel during that afternoon's executive meeting.
"Okay."
A faint smile curved Wen Ran's lips. Despite the overcast skies and cold wind, she felt wrapped in a cocoon of warmth, thanks to Mo Xiuchen's concern.
Before entering the café, Wen Ran slipped her phone into her handbag, without ending the call.
Inside, the café exuded an air of quiet elegance. Soft music played in the background, and there were few patrons. Wen Ran spotted Cheng Jia by the window at once. She wore a trendy autumn trench coat and had applied makeup to mask her lingering pallor.
Cheng Jia, in terms of appearance alone, was undeniably beautiful. No wonder Xiao Wenqing had once chosen her. As Wen Ran approached, this thought crossed her mind. She seated herself across from Cheng Jia.
Cheng Jia offered a small, composed smile. Her gaze was gentle, her demeanor far removed from the resentment and chill of the past. Her tone was poised and polite as she spoke: "Miss Wen, what would you like to drink?"
A waiter had followed Wen Ran in. She smiled kindly at him and answered calmly, "Just a glass of warm water, thank you."
"Certainly. Please wait a moment."
The waiter responded courteously and turned to leave.
Noticing Cheng Jia's surprised look, Wen Ran offered a mild explanation, "I haven't been feeling well these past few days. I don't want any coffee."
Concern flickered in Cheng Jia's eyes. "Miss Wen, are you alright? Have you seen a doctor?"
Wen Ran smiled faintly, her voice as serene as drifting clouds, "It's nothing serious. No need to see a doctor. There's still much to be handled at the pharmaceutical plant. If you have something to say, please speak directly."
Cheng Jia's overly courteous demeanor made Wen Ran uneasy, as if something was brewing beneath the surface.
Soon, the waiter returned with the warm water. Wen Ran rested her slender fingers against the glass but made no move to drink. Cheng Jia, watching her closely, asked with apparent concern:
"Miss Wen, was Mo Shao very upset last night?"
As she spoke, her eyes drifted to Wen Ran's fair neck. Though Wen Ran wore a high-collared sweater, the faint traces of kisses were still visible, not completely concealed.
The sight pierced Cheng Jia like a needle to her heart—sharp, burning pain spreading through her chest.
Wen Ran pressed her lips together lightly. "He's alright. He's weathered far worse since childhood—far more than you could imagine."
So, even if he felt something, it wouldn't be enough to break him.
Cheng Jia's face twitched ever so slightly. Sorrow and worry shadowed her delicate brows, and her voice lowered, tinged with bitterness, "All the pain and peril Mo Shao endured—it's all because of Xiao Wenqing. She's always wanted to destroy him."
Wen Ran studied her calmly. Her sorrow, her simmering fury—it didn't seem like an act. Her feelings for Mo Xiuchen, it seemed, ran deep. Otherwise, she wouldn't have revealed the truths of last night.
"Miss Wen, may I ask you something?"
When Wen Ran didn't respond, only watched her silently, Cheng Jia blinked, suppressing her emotions as she asked politely.
Wen Ran nodded, her tone even, "What is it?"
A flicker of hesitation crossed Cheng Jia's eyes. It was clear that the question was difficult to voice. She looked at Wen Ran's delicately beautiful face. Though she didn't want to admit it, Wen Ran had grown more beautiful—her once-girlish charm now matured into radiant elegance, nourished by love.
Clenching her hands slightly, swallowing her envy, Cheng Jia asked, "Miss Wen, do you love Mo Shao?"
Wen Ran's expression shifted ever so subtly.
At the same time, in the general manager's office at MS Group, Mo Xiuchen's pen froze mid-sentence, hovering above the document, as he listened intently to the call.
Cheng Jia's question was the very one he had always wanted to ask.
He knew Wen Ran treated him well and earnestly tried to be a good wife. But her kindness seemed more like a fulfillment of an agreement—just a promise she was keeping.
What he longed for wasn't duty-bound affection, but love born from the heart. A natural, irresistible desire to care.
Just as he loved her.
At that moment, the ever-calm, sharp-witted Mo Xiuchen resembled not a powerful businessman, but a stubborn little boy who, after giving away a piece of candy, longed for one in return.
And that side of him only ever surfaced when he was with Wen Ran.