Mo Hanche’s office had a resting room.
The mother and three children had played too hard in the morning—once they saw the bed, they collapsed right onto it and fell asleep.
All three kids clung to Song Wenxi: two holding her arms, one using her leg as a pillow.
When Mo Hanche pushed the door open, he saw the four of them sleeping in messy positions across the bed. His face darkened immediately.
Such a large bed—and not a single spot for him.
He closed the door again and settled on the sofa instead.
He only slept for half an hour before returning to work, and half an hour later, he went in to wake them.
“Wenwen, wake up.”
Half-asleep, Song Wenxi vaguely heard someone urging her to get up. She muttered in protest and rolled over, continuing to sleep.
The three children had already been woken by Mo Hanche and were now sitting dazed on the bed.
“Go wash your faces yourselves,” he said, setting them down and pointing toward the bathroom.
The three little ones shuffled inside groggily.
Mo Hanche sat on the edge of the bed and studied Song Wenxi’s sleeping face—brows slightly furrowed, lips pouted. If he hadn’t misheard, she had just mumbled something like “don’t release sheep.”
“Wenwen, the sheep are here.”
Song Wenxi suddenly opened her eyes and shot upright. Only after seeing Mo Hanche’s face did her tense nerves relax.
She grabbed a pillow and swung it at him.
“Are you bored or something?”
Mo Hanche caught the pillow, looking at her with interest, as if he had discovered something new.
So… she was afraid of sheep.
Song Wenxi got out of bed and headed to wash up, then suddenly paused and turned back.
“What did you just call me?”
“Wenwen,” Mo Hanche coughed lightly.
“Don’t call me that,” she glared, walking toward the bathroom. “Too cheesy.”
Mo Hanche didn’t argue. Saying it in front of her did feel a little awkward—he shouldn’t have listened to Bai Shuo.
After washing up, the mother and children regained full energy. They walked out of the lounge, greeted Mo Hanche in his office, and prepared to leave.
Mo Hanche sent them to the elevator. Only after they entered did he return to his office.
Inside the elevator, Bai Shuo’s phone kept buzzing. He opened the secretary group chat:
“This scene is too harmonious. I thought I was dreaming.”
“Spring is blooming in the CEO’s love life.”
“Madam looks so youthful today!”
“The three little cuties—I want to kidnap them.”
Bai Shuo felt this group of people was becoming increasingly unprofessional. A “monitoring group for Madam updates” like this probably shouldn’t exist anymore.
He tapped his phone and deleted all members—disbanding the group.
Twenty minutes later, Bai Shuo parked the car outside the art museum.
Lin Mo, wearing a mask and sunglasses, stood at the entrance. She happened to see Song Wenxi getting out of a Cullinan. Before she could even react, she saw a sharply dressed man step out from the driver’s seat. He opened the back door and carried out two children, while Song Wenxi also lifted another child from the other side.
The man—tall, composed, and refined—waved at the children and nodded slightly at Song Wenxi before getting back into the Rolls-Royce and driving away.
No matter how you looked at it, it resembled a family of five.
Lin Mo paused, thoughts stirring. Without realizing it, she followed them inside.
Song Wenxi held Mo Nanqing and Mo Beiyu’s hands. Mo Dongchen, unhappy, held his older brother’s hand instead because he couldn’t switch positions.
The two little ones whispered:
“Next time it’s your turn. Xiao Qing is too dazed—if Mommy doesn’t hold him, he’ll get kidnapped by bad people.”
“Okay then. Next time I’ll switch.”
“Deal.”
Song Wenxi heard everything clearly and felt a warm softness in her heart.
Meanwhile, Mo Dongchen—previously “unhappy”—quickly got distracted by the strange sculptures and paintings in the museum. He wandered off, looking here and there, completely fascinated.
Mo Beiyu saw a replica of a Picasso painting. He tugged at Song Wenxi’s clothes. She crouched down, and the little boy leaned close to her ear and whispered softly:
“Mommy, Chenchen’s paintings are prettier than this one.”
“Is that so?” she asked.
The little boy nodded very firmly, then added a bit shyly, “But my own drawings are ugly. Teacher Yun said my hands are too clumsy.”
Song Wenxi gently pinched his little hand and leaned close to his ear as if sharing a secret.
“This painting… hmm, it’s very special. A lot of very great teachers like this kind of art. Xiao Yu’s drawings are also very special, and Mommy really likes them.”
She patted his little head. “Xiao Yu can draw special pictures, so your hands are actually very smart.”
Mo Beiyu hugged her neck tightly and buried himself in her arms, his black eyes shining brightly.
Even though his mother had never actually seen his drawings, she was comforting him—and he was very happy. He decided not to expose her gentle lie.
Mo Nanqing pulled at her hand and pointed to a Van Gogh Starry Night replica.
“Mommy, I can draw this.”
Song Wenxi wrapped her arm around his soft little body. “Then can my baby Qing draw one for Mommy?”
The little boy nodded obediently. “I can.”
She was holding two children when she suddenly noticed something was missing—the most expressive little voice was gone.
“Where’s Chenchen?” she stood up immediately, holding the two children tightly and looking around.
Her gaze landed on a woman in a mask and sunglasses not far away. The woman quickly looked away.
Song Wenxi narrowed her eyes. Her heart tightened instantly. She pulled the two children closer and took out her phone to call Mo Hanche.
The ringtone had barely finished ringing when the call connected.
“Mo Hanche…”
“Mommy! It’s Chenchen, little brother is playing!” Mo Nanqing pointed toward a narrow gap between two exhibition boards.
Song Wenxi looked over—and immediately saw a small back view in a blue denim short and green T-shirt.
She rushed over with the two children in her arms.
“Brother!” Mo Beiyu’s voice rose anxiously.
Mo Dongchen turned around happily. “Mommy, brother—”
Before he could finish, he was pulled tightly into his mother’s arms.
He blinked his deer-like eyes, confused.
Song Wenxi finally let out a long breath of relief.
On the other end of the phone, Mo Hanche had already heard her urgent call but then silence. He faintly heard the children’s voices and immediately asked again, but got no response.
He grabbed his coat and walked out of the office without hanging up. The call stayed connected.
As he entered the elevator, he finally heard her voice again.
“Mo Hanche, come pick us up.”
His tension eased slightly. “Alright. I’m already in the elevator. I’ll be there in about fifteen to twenty minutes.”
He paused. “Was everything okay just now?”
Song Wenxi took a deep breath, scanning the surroundings again but no longer seeing the masked woman.
“It’s fine now. Drive slowly.”
“Okay. Wait for me.”
His deep voice carried a steady calm that easily soothed her lingering panic.
The three children stood quietly in front of her. Mo Dongchen clenched his little fists, biting his lip, still confused but tense.
Song Wenxi spoke seriously, “Mommy just saw a strange woman earlier. I thought she might be a child kidnapper. I thought Chenchen had been taken away. Do you remember what your teachers taught you if you meet a strange person?”
The three little heads nodded.
Mo Beiyu said, “Don’t go with strangers. Wait for family to pick us up.”
Mo Nanqing added, “Don’t eat food from strangers.”
Mo Dongchen hesitated, “And… call for help…”
Song Wenxi immediately broke character and couldn’t stay serious anymore.
She picked up Chenchen, held Nanqing’s hand, and let Beiyu hold onto her bag strap. The family of four walked out of the art museum.
Soon, a grey Rolls-Royce Cullinan stopped in front of them.
Mo Hanche got out, put the two older children into the car, then carried the youngest into the back seat with Song Wenxi.
He returned to the driver’s seat but didn’t start the car immediately. He turned around to ask what happened.
Song Wenxi told him everything.
Mo Hanche kept a straight face while “disciplining” the kids. The three children clung to their mother and stayed silent.
He then called Bai Shuo and gave a few instructions before finally starting the car.
Song Wenxi said, “Mo Hanche, don’t go home first. Go to the mall.”
After what happened today, she was still shaken. Situations involving children were unpredictable. Real-time tracking would be more reassuring.
“Also, we should start self-defense training for you. You can’t do intense exercise right now, and you’re busy anyway—better to hire a professional trainer.”
“And we need to teach them more about anti-kidnapping awareness. Maybe even do drills.”
Mo Hanche didn’t interrupt. He listened quietly and agreed to everything.
Through the rearview mirror, he saw the mother and three children huddled together. The children weren’t afraid—but she clearly was.