A glimmer of emotion flickered deep within Mo Xiuchen's eyes, a feeling both elusive and complex—perhaps joy, or perhaps guilt. Guilt, for the anger he had so hastily directed at her.
He had once promised never to lose his temper with her again. Yet time and again, his emotions were so easily swayed by her—his happiness, his sorrow, all entangled with her every move. The mere sight of her and Wen Jin interacting so intimately had sparked a flare of jealousy he could not suppress.
The more Mo Xiuchen dwelled on it, the more he regretted his impulsiveness. Suddenly, he reached out, gently clasping Wen Ran's cool, delicate hand in his. His gaze, deep as an ocean, held hers as he spoke softly, "Ranran, there's much to attend to tomorrow. Let's leave the rest of this conversation for another day. Once this busy period has passed, I promise I'll sit with you and talk at length, alright?"
Wen Ran pressed her lips together, her eyes calm and unwavering.
Once doubt had taken root in her heart, it would not be dispelled until answers were laid bare before her.
But Mo Xiuchen wouldn't easily reveal the truth—not yet. First, he needed the results of Gu Kai's analysis. And second, he still didn't understand why Wen Jin and Wen Hongrui had hidden the truth of her origin from her, nor why her memories before the age of six were a complete void.
There were too many riddles yet to be unraveled.
Raising his other hand, Mo Xiuchen's slender fingers, sculpted and strong, brushed against her smooth, porcelain cheek. It was that very gesture—Wen Jin touching her face—that had sparked his irrational jealousy earlier, leading to his ill-considered words.
He reminded himself silently: next time, he must not lose control. The composure he took pride in must not crumble so easily before this one, small woman.
"Ranran," he murmured, "do you still remember what you promised me this afternoon?"
As he leaned in, Wen Ran's heartbeat quickened uncontrollably.
The warm breath he exhaled washed over her skin—intoxicating and masculine, stealing away the air from her lungs and filling her chest with him alone. Her body tensed slightly. This man... was seducing her with sheer charm.
Yet it was precisely this kind of seductive expression, paired with his low, husky voice, that she could never resist. The heat from his fingers seeped into her skin, into her very bones, as they glided across her cheek.
And in the moment his lips brushed her forehead, her reason disintegrated like a battlefield overwhelmed, her mind hazy, her heart thundering.
Without waiting for a reply, Mo Xiuchen's voice curled into her ear like smoke: "You promised you'd help me shower tonight, remember? Surely you won't go back on your word now?"
As he stared at her blushing cheeks, his lips curved into a devilish grin—no one else could look so wickedly handsome.
Wen Ran stared at him, dumbfounded. Just moments ago, they were having a serious conversation. He had been visibly upset. How did everything change so suddenly?
A shower?
Yes, she remembered now. That afternoon in the office, he had shamelessly coerced her, saying she'd either agree to help him shower tonight or risk being devoured right there on the spot.
Good grief. That had been a threat, hadn't it?
"You said you wouldn't get mad at me again," she blurted, her flustered mind suddenly snapping back into focus. She swatted at the hand stroking her face.
His hand, calloused from work, was nothing like her own soft skin. And everywhere he touched sent shivers straight to her heart.
Mo Xiuchen narrowed his eyes with a light chuckle. "Yes, I broke the rules. So now, you help me first… and then I'll return the favor."
Before she could object, he had already pulled her from the sofa with authoritative ease and strode toward the bathroom, dragging her along.
Wen Ran stared in disbelief at the smirk on his lips. How could one man be so overbearing? Why did he always get his way?
As the bathroom door shut behind them, the air inside seemed to thin instantly. Though not a small space, it felt stifling with Mo Xiuchen's presence.
"Don't worry, Ranran," he said with a roguish smile. "I won't take advantage of you. If I say I'll help, I'll help. And tomorrow, I'll even let you enjoy a good show."
With that, he deftly unfastened his shirt buttons and twisted the shower knob. Water cascaded down as he turned back to her, beckoning. "Ranran, come here. How can you help me wash from all the way over there?"
"I—I need to step out for a bit," she stammered.
Just as he undid his belt, her eyes landed—unintentionally—on the tent rising beneath his pants. Flustered, she scrambled for an excuse to flee.
"Ranran, where are you going?" he asked.
One moment he was undoing his belt, the next he was right in front of her—his tall frame blocking her path, his warm hand gripping her wrist. His gaze, predatory and teasing, held her fast.
She let out a dry laugh. "I… need to use the restroom. You go ahead, I'll join you later."
In truth, she had never bathed a man before. Even though they shared the most intimate of nights, she still blushed at the mere sight of him. Now, he expected her to wash him?
"Fine—help me undress first, then you can go."
His agreement had barely left his lips before her eyes lit up with relief. But before the smile could bloom, his follow-up froze her in place.
While speaking, he had already taken her hand and guided it to his waist.
Wen Ran's face flushed redder than ever. She stammered, "Mo Xiuchen, I… I can't do this…"
"No worries. I'll teach you. Everything has a first time. Just like all the 'exercise' we've been doing every night—you didn't know how before, but look at you now. Trust me, you'll be great at this."
He leaned down, his breath scalding against her ear as he whispered, every syllable like fire against her skin.
Still unsatisfied, he ended his sentence with a kiss—light, teasing—upon her sensitive earlobe. "Ranran, come."
The moment her fingers brushed that particular place, she yanked her hand back as if burned. Her startled reaction made him laugh heartily. Standing tall, he caught her hand again, coaxing, "Don't be scared. He really likes you."
Just when she felt like a rabbit caught in the trap, Mo Xiuchen's pocket buzzed, followed by the shrill ring of a phone.
Wen Ran's eyes lit up. "Your phone's ringing!"
Mo Xiuchen narrowed his gaze but, perhaps seeing how flustered she was, finally released her. "Go ahead and use the restroom. I'll take this call."
Wen Ran, as if granted amnesty, bolted from the bathroom with a hasty, "Okay!"
Watching her flee, Mo Xiuchen's lips curved into a smirk—sexy and assured.
No matter how fast she ran, it was useless.
Once he finished that call, not a single thing he planned would be left undone.