The bright lights come on.
In the inner city center, neon signs flicker endlessly. Traffic flows like rivers as night fully descends, skyscrapers slowly fading behind them.
The outer ring is quieter—fewer lights, shorter buildings, tree shadows swaying in the dark.
Song Wenxi drives steadily all the way from the inner ring to the outer ring, entering the Moon Bay Lake villa district.
In the back seat, Xiaoqing is still staring at his little penguin plush. Mo Beiyu hugs a green dinosaur, and Mo Dongchen holds a red toy lobster. All three are nodding off, heads bobbing like little pecking birds.
The car slowly stops in the Mo family villa courtyard.
Zhao Ma hears the engine and immediately comes out. Mo Hanche stands at the porch with his arms crossed, his face clearly written with “unhappy.”
“Big brother, little brothers, we’re home,” Song Wenxi says softly.
She was about to be gentle, but Xiaoqing wakes the other two sleepyheads anyway.
The mother and three children walk inside holding their toys, even remembering to greet the “unhappy” man.
At dinner, the children eat halfway and fall asleep right on the table.
Song Wenxi and Zhao Ma carry them upstairs, bathe them, and all three kids fall asleep the moment they hit the bed.
Mo Hanche remains seated at the dining table, glancing upstairs several times. When Song Wenxi finally comes down, he tells Zhao Ma to reheat the dishes.
After eating, Song Wenxi puts down her chopsticks and looks at him.
He has been staring at her for a while without saying anything.
“Just say it. What is it?” she asks.
Mo Hanche replies calmly, “I’m going on a business trip tomorrow. About four or five days.”
“Got it.”
It seems he did listen to what she said earlier—at least he’s reporting his schedule now.
The night is quiet, the wind soft.
In the guest bedroom, Mo Hanche lies on the bed, hands behind his head, thinking…
Suddenly, there is a knock.
He sits up sharply, steadying his breathing. His voice turns cold.
“Come in.”
Song Wenxi pushes the door open. Seeing him already in bed so early, she finds it unusual.
“Going to sleep already?”
Mo Hanche’s gaze lands on her.
Under the warm light, her delicate face looks clean and bright. Slightly curled dark hair, a white French-style nightgown, slender calves exposed—pure, fresh, almost untouched.
He lowers his eyes to hide the emotion in them.
“What is it?” he asks.
She sits on the single sofa and tells him what happened at kindergarten during the day. Then she explains her concern: the children are only four and a half, but too small and vulnerable. If there is conflict, they might get hurt.
“I want them to learn self-defense. Either I enroll them in a martial arts class, or… do you know anyone who can train them individually?”
“No need for classes or outsiders,” Mo Hanche says.
“I’ll teach them.”
Song Wenxi blinks, thinking she misheard.
But then she accepts it. He’s a capable businessman—maybe he really has other sides she hasn’t seen.
Suddenly, a shadow falls over her.
She looks up.
Mo Hanche is already right in front of her.
He places both hands on the sofa armrests and leans down.
And kisses her.
Under the soft light, their overlapping shadows fall on the wall.
This time, she remembers to breathe.
He, however, seems greedy—wanting more, and more.
After a long moment, he finally pulls away. His body still leans over hers as he tries to steady his breathing, head resting near her neck.
Then he speaks, low and rough:
“I went for a heart check today. The doctor said it’s idiopathic ventricular tachycardia. It can be treated. I need a minor surgery—scheduled for tomorrow.”
Song Wenxi fully comes back to her senses and tries to push him away, but he is too heavy.
She can only ask between breaths.
He patiently repeats everything the doctor said.
Then he asks:
“How did you know my heart had a problem?”
She cannot explain the truth—that in the book, he dies from this condition.
So she tilts her head slightly.
“There are too many news cases of young people dying from overwork. You’re clearly overworked. It’s better to prevent it early.”
He studies her quietly.
In just a few days, she feels like a completely different person.
Is she acting? She is an actress after all.
He suddenly stands up, moving to the window, his expression cold again. The restless feeling in his chest slowly settles into stillness.
Song Wenxi yawns and leaves his room, muttering as she closes the door:
“Pervert.”
Back in her own room, she lies down and starts thinking.
He’s not going on a business trip—he’s going for surgery. Even if it’s minor… will it really go smoothly? Does he need 24-hour care? And what about the kids?
Morning light passes.
Song Wenxi jolts awake.
She goes downstairs.
The three children are already dressed and ready to leave. Seeing her, their sleepy eyes light up instantly as they run toward her, clinging and whining.
“Good morning, Mom.”
“I still want to sleep…”
“Can I not go to kindergarten?”
All their voices stop abruptly when Mo Hanche comes downstairs. They immediately stand straight and greet him politely.
Mo Hanche sighs inwardly.
This family has warmth—but none of it is for him.
Song Wenxi takes the children to the car. They wave goodbye, slightly downcast when they see she isn’t dressed up and won’t be sending them to school today.
Bai Shuo arrives to pick up Mo Hanche and notices Song Wenxi is also there—clearly going to the hospital.
At the hospital, Bai Shuo quickly understands Mo Hanche’s silent signal and leaves for the company.
Mo Hanche cooperates with all pre-surgery examinations, speaking little.
Song Wenxi stays with him, carefully noting everything the doctors say and asking detailed questions.
He watches her moving back and forth and feels unexpectedly… satisfied.
Maybe he now understands how to deal with her.
Perhaps being a little dependent… isn’t so shameful after all.
Shen Shizhan, having just finished surgery, rushes from the capital to Nancheng and arrives at the hospital.
“Damn, I said I’d end up operating on you one day. Lucky you still know how to stay alive—otherwise your empire would be someone else’s wedding dress…”
From inside the VIP room, Song Wenxi hears everything clearly while cutting fruit.
Shen Shizhan—genius cardiac surgeon, heir of Shengze Hospital, top doctor in the field.
She walks out with a fruit plate.
“Doctor Shen, at least be a bit more civilized,” she says calmly.
“Holy shit—why are you here?!” Shen Shizhan jumps in shock.
Mo Hanche calmly takes the fruit plate before him.
“Thanks,” he says, eating leisurely.
Shen Shizhan stares between them, confused.
Something feels wrong.
Since when did Mo Hanche start losing control of his “husband authority”?