The moment Wen Jin spoke, Wen Ran's face drained of color.
She turned to Mo Xiuchen with a pleading gaze, silently begging him not to make things difficult for her, not to quarrel with her brother.
Yet, for once, Mo Xiuchen and Wen Jin were united in thought—one refused to leave, the other would not let go.
Even when met with her imploring eyes, Mo Xiuchen remained unmoved. His tall frame sat upright in the chair, as still and resolute as a mountain.
Surrounded by an oppressive and stagnant atmosphere, Wen Ran's heart grew increasingly anxious. Her hands still clutched Mo Xiuchen's as she turned to her brother, her voice low and full of concern, "Brother, please don't be angry."
But Wen Jin refused to look at her. His eyes were fixed coldly on Mo Xiuchen as he spoke with icy precision, "Mo Xiuchen, even if your marriage to Ranran was born of mutual affection, and not out of necessity, don't think that because she is now your wife, she has nothing to do with me, her brother."
"Brother, that's not what he meant."
"Ranran, step outside. I want to speak with him alone."
Wen Jin turned his eyes to Wen Ran, his expression serious—so different from his usual indulgent warmth. Just as she was about to protest, Mo Xiuchen added calmly, "Go on. Wait for me outside. I'll just have a few words with your brother. Don't worry, I won't do anything to him."
"Brother?"
Wen Ran bit her lip and looked at Wen Jin uneasily.
Meeting her gaze—so soft, so full of emotion—Wen Jin's heart softened at last. With a weary sigh, he murmured, "Forget it. You two should go. As for Zhou Mingfu, I'll take care of it tomorrow."
Mo Xiuchen might infuriate him with his arrogance, but Wen Jin couldn't bring himself to ignore his beloved sister's feelings. The truth was, tonight, he wasn't angry—he simply felt helpless.
Time and again, Ranran had faced danger, and he had always arrived too late to help—always the last to know.
For someone who had, for more than a decade, played the role of protector in Wen Ran's life, that realization was unbearable. And now, there was another man—arrogant, domineering—trying to take his place.
Wen Ran opened her mouth to speak again, but Wen Jin slowly closed his eyes. Between his refined brows, there was a faint trace of fatigue.
She pursed her lips, gently released Mo Xiuchen's hand, and bent down to pull the quilt up over her brother. Her voice softened. "Brother, I'll come pick you up tomorrow morning. What would you like for breakfast? I'll make it for you."
Without opening his eyes, Wen Jin gave a small shake of the head. "No need to get up so early. Aunt Li will bring something."
"Alright then, I'll come take you to the company in the morning."
After tucking the quilt in place, Wen Ran straightened up.
"If you're up early, come have breakfast with me at the hospital," Wen Jin said, his eyes opening again. The anger that had filled them earlier was gone, replaced by a gentle warmth.
Wen Ran's face lit up with a radiant smile. "Alright, I'll be there. I'll have breakfast with you."
As long as her brother was no longer angry, she was willing to do anything.
The last trace of emotion in Wen Jin's heart melted in the brilliance of her smile. A tender curve appeared at his lips. "It's getting late. Go home and get some sleep."
Wen Ran nodded, her voice light and cheerful. "You too, brother. I'm heading back now. See you in the morning."
Mo Residence
On the third floor of the opulent mansion, Shao Wenqing sat on a delicate fabric sofa in her nightgown, one hand supporting her head while the other held a phone to her ear.
"…Yes, go first thing in the morning. Make sure it's front-page news."
Beside her, Zhou Lin, also clad in sleepwear, waited in silence.
Mo Jingteng had been discharged from the hospital today. Not daring to make calls from her room on the second floor, Shao Wenqing had used visiting Zhou Lin as an excuse to come upstairs and contact the press.
She had tipped them off about Cheng Jia's apartment, ensuring they would catch Mo Xiuchen red-handed in bed.
"Mrs. Shao, are you sure Cheng Jia can keep Mo Xiuchen there?" Zhou Lin asked once the call ended, her voice tinged with unease.
Shao Wenqing sneered. "Men are creatures driven by lust. Perhaps in the past, Mo Xiuchen would have resisted. But now that he's experienced such pleasures, and with someone like Cheng Jia offering herself willingly, how could he possibly refuse?"
"So tomorrow, Mo Xiuchen will become the laughingstock of the entire G City."
Zhou Lin's laughter bubbled forth. If Mo Xiuchen's scandal broke, he'd lose all chances of keeping the CEO position. And once he fell, it would be Mo Zixuan's turn.
When that day came, she—Zhou Lin—would be the future lady of the Mo Group.
Shao Wenqing nodded, her eyes sharp with malice. "Old Mo must've been bewitched by Mo Xiuchen. Not only did he insist on making him his successor, he's in such a rush, he's not even considering Zixuan."
At first, she had suspected Mo Jingteng might have found something out. But later, when his attitude toward her returned to normal, she realized his earlier anger had only stemmed from the drugged shark fin soup incident—which had caused him to fall out with Mo Xiuchen.
It wasn't because he'd uncovered something deeper.
"Could it be that Wen Ran told him something?" Zhou Lin said, grinding her teeth at the name. "She's always sowing discord. She hates Zixuan, so of course she'd help Mo Xiuchen seize the company as quickly as possible."
Wen Ran's name dripped with venom from her lips.
Zhou Lin had always loathed her. Born into a better family, smarter, more beautiful—and worst of all, the man Zhou Lin loved had only ever had eyes for her.
She wished nothing more than for Wen Ran to disappear. But to maintain her facade of kindness in front of Mo Zixuan, she had to keep pretending, had to hide the truth.
A flicker of suspicion passed over Shao Wenqing's face. "It's entirely possible. The day Old Mo collapsed, Wen Ran was there at the hospital. She defended Mo Xiuchen right in front of Zixuan. The way she looked at me—it was filled with hatred. It's a shame she never drank that shark fin soup."
As she spoke, Shao Wenqing glanced at Zhou Lin's belly. Her tone deepened.
"Alin, you need to be more determined. You must give Zixuan a son. Once Mo Xiuchen is ruined by scandal, the Mo family will belong to Zixuan."
Zhou Lin nodded, her hand gently resting on her still-flat abdomen. "Don't worry, Auntie Shao. I'll give Zixuan a son. Even if Wen Ran didn't drink that soup, once the news about Mo Xiuchen and Cheng Jia spreads tomorrow, she'll never stay with him."
With her temperament, if Mo Xiuchen betrayed her, she would divorce him without hesitation.
Just like when she broke up with Mo Zixuan and turned around to marry Mo Xiuchen—it had been a form of revenge.
Shao Wenqing's lips curled into a smile. "You're right. Once Mo Xiuchen's scandal hits the papers, Wen Ran will walk away. Even if they don't divorce, she won't bear his child."
And without a child, the Mo legacy would never be his.