Though dissatisfied in his heart, he understood Old Mr. Wen’s intentions.
In his grandfather’s heart, he still hoped Mu Wanqing would remain with the Wen family and have someone to rely on.
He didn’t care what methods this woman had used to persuade his grandfather. At this critical moment, he only wanted the old man to pass away peacefully, free from worries.
Moreover, deep down, he hadn’t truly wanted a divorce either.
“Grandfather, I was wrong… I’ll change from now on. I’ve cut ties with Ke Jun and won’t have any further contact with her. The children are still too young to be without their mother. I’ll try to treat Qingqing better and earn her forgiveness.” After a brief moment of reflection, Wen Zhan immediately made a solemn declaration: “We—will not divorce.”
Hearing this, Mu Wanqing was startled, unable to believe what she had heard.
Old Mr. Wen also appeared surprised.
He fixed his gaze on his grandson, his increasingly frail condition leaving him unable to ask many questions. He could only stare with fading, weary eyes…
Wen Zhan tightened his grip on his grandfather’s hand and reaffirmed: “I mean it. Qingqing is wonderful—she’s a good wife and a good mother. I have no reason not to cherish her. I was stubborn and misguided before, but now I’ve come to understand.”
“Good… good…” The old man grew emotional, but he could no longer speak.
He could only laboriously shift his gaze toward the girl kneeling by the bedside, a slow tear tracing its way down from the corner of his eye.
These were tears of contentment, tears that reflected a life without regrets, tears of joy for Mu Wanqing.
“Qing… Qing…” His throat trembled, his lips unable to move, only emitting broken syllables.
“Grandfather, I’m here!” Mu Wanqing straightened up and, together with Wen Zhan, held the old man’s hand.
Understanding what the elderly man wished to say, she wiped her tears with her other hand and quickly assured him: “Grandfather, don’t worry, I’ll take good care of myself. And Wen Zhan… he really has changed a lot recently… Please rest assured, we’ll be fine…”
The old man moved his lips in contentment, unable to speak further. Gradually, his eyes grew vacant until, with life fading away, they slowly closed.
“Grandfather…” Mu Wanqing wept uncontrollably, collapsing in sobs by the bedside.
Wen Zhan fought back his tears but couldn’t suppress the overwhelming grief.
Unable to help himself, he half-knelt and drew the woman into his embrace.
Mu Wanqing’s heart was shattered, her mind hazy from extreme sorrow and lack of oxygen. As the man held her close, she offered no resistance, clutching his clothes and weeping bitterly in his arms.
Wen Zhan held her, and in that moment, the two found solace in each other, offering mutual comfort and healing.
For an instant, the man’s heart surged with the resolve to protect her for the rest of his life.
The passing of Old Mr. Wen had a significant impact in Chongcheng.
The honor of being a “veteran of the War of Resistance” alone commanded immense respect.
Moreover, the Wen family held such a prominent social standing.
Thus, the funeral was exceptionally grand and solemn.
Wen Zhan was overwhelmed with responsibilities.
Although the Wen family had many members and not everything required his personal attention, as the head of Wen Yuan Group and the inheritor of the younger generation of the Wen family, many matters needed his approval and decisions.
Coupled with a pile of company affairs, he often didn’t return home until late at night.
Mu Wanqing had been immersed in grief these past few days, her spirits depressed. With the added burden of caring for the children at night and poor sleep, she had grown quite haggard.
The confinement nanny, feeling sorry for her, took both children away to sleep separately, hoping to let her rest properly.
Who would have thought it would backfire.
Without the baby nearby, Mu Wanqing slept more soundly and forgot to wake up to express milk, which led to blocked ducts and eventually mastitis.
Although the confinement nanny immediately applied warm compresses and massaged her upon discovering the issue, it had little effect.
By evening, she started running a fever.
The family wanted to call Wen Zhan, but considering how swamped he had been lately, she didn’t want to bother him with such a minor issue and stopped them from making the call.
At eleven that night, Wen Zhan returned home and noticed the maid still busy in the kitchen. Curious, he asked what was going on.
Only then did he learn that Mu Wanqing was ill.
“Ill? What happened? Has she seen a doctor?” His expression darkened as he tugged off his necktie. Before the words were fully out, he was already heading toward the stairs.
Just as he reached the guest room door, the confinement nanny stepped out.
“What’s going on? If she’s sick, she should go to the hospital. Why is she toughing it out at home?” Wen Zhan’s tone was tense, almost reprimanding.
Aunt Zhou looked slightly awkward and cleared her throat before replying, “The fever started this evening. I wiped her down and used alcohol to cool her physically. The fever has subsided now, but…”
Wen Zhan pushed the door open and asked at the same time, “But what?”
“Well… it’s quite common for breastfeeding mothers to get mastitis from blocked milk ducts. It’ll get better once the blockage clears.” Aunt Zhou figured the master of the house might not understand and quickly explained, hoping to ease his worry.
Mu Wanqing’s fever had broken, and she was drifting in and out of sleep when she heard Wen Zhan’s voice and opened her eyes again.
They had seen little of each other lately, and their relationship hovered somewhere between strained and thawing.
With his grandfather’s funeral approaching and so many eyes on them, they had to maintain at least a facade of harmony.
“You’re back…” Mu Wanqing greeted softly.
Wen Zhan looked at her glistening eyes, unusually flushed cheeks, and the fine beads of sweat on her forehead. Frowning, he walked over and sat by the bed. “Are you feeling awful? I’ll take you to the hospital.”
He reached out to lift her, but she refused.
“No need. Aunt Zhou spent a long time helping me, and the fever’s gone.” It was just that her chest still ached painfully.
Wen Zhan frowned and pressed his hand to her forehead.
Damp with sweat, her skin had cooled, and she indeed no longer felt feverish.
Aunt Zhou, ever perceptive, took in the scene and quickly said, “Madam, you should take a bath and change into dry clothes. These bedsheets are soaked with sweat and need changing too.”
Without waiting for either to respond, she directed Wen Zhan, “Third Young Master, please carry Madam back to the master bedroom. This bed is too damp to sleep in.”
Mu Wanqing’s cheeks, which had just cooled, flushed hot again.
She was about to say it wasn’t necessary—she could walk on her own—but Wen Zhan had already stood up and looked at her. “Let me carry you over.”
“No, I’m fine, I can…” Before she could finish, he bent down, pulled back the covers, and slipped one arm behind her shoulders and the other under her knees.
The moment she was lifted into the air, her heart seemed to leap with her.
Afraid of falling, she quickly wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing them abruptly close. At eye level, she could clearly see the sharp line of his jaw.
He had lost weight.
In just a few days, he had visibly thinned, and the shadows under his eyes were pronounced—clearly, he hadn’t been resting well either.
The distance from the guest room to the master bedroom wasn’t far, but in this intimate hold, every second felt excruciatingly long.
Mu Wanqing could only quickly search for a topic to break the awkwardness: “Um… has Grandpa’s funeral been finalized?”
“Yes, it’s set for next Monday at the Municipal Funeral Home.”