After breakfast, Song Wenxi carefully looked around the villa.
Even though there were three children in the family, the place felt strangely cold and empty.
The original owner disliked children. In the shared areas of the house, anything related to kids was not allowed. She not only insisted on dressing herself in a glamorous, refined way, but also demanded that the house’s design match her so-called “fashionable aesthetic.”
The living room was fine—simple, modern minimalism. But the master bedroom on the second floor was overly decorated and flashy. The original owner believed it reflected her unique personality.
In the backyard of the villa, there was a rectangular heated swimming pool, a long pavilion, and a wide open lawn. The front yard had some flowers and plants, but they were poorly maintained and looked messy. The courtyard wall was covered with bougainvillea, its purple-pink petals scattered and rotting on the ground.
Song Wenxi asked Zhao Ma for the contact numbers of gardening and renovation workers, and immediately called them to come and make changes.
A new beginning should start with a new environment.
She supervised the workers while Zhao Ma busied herself helping out, occasionally sneaking glances at her mistress.
The mistress was strange.
She was suddenly making big changes to the house, yet showed no temper or complaints. She didn’t even dress up today—just wore a sun hat and went in and out guiding the workers as they moved potted plants.
By late morning, the yard renovation was finished.
Dead branches and fallen leaves were cleared away.
The bougainvillea on the wall had been neatly trimmed. The ornamental plants and lawn were all clean and orderly.
Sunlight poured into the yard.
The rotten smell was gone, replaced by the fresh scent of grass and gardenias, refreshing and soothing.
In the evening, Uncle Tang brought the three children home.
Seeing the completely transformed yard, they stood at the entrance hesitantly, not daring to go in.
Hearing the engine, Zhao Ma hurried out from the kitchen to open the door.
The three children greeted her politely, but their eyes kept searching the house at the same time. Not seeing the person they expected, they looked a little disappointed.
They went upstairs on their own to put away their schoolbags, change clothes, and wash their hands.
“Brother, she’s not home.”
“Mm.”
The three of them looked dejected. As they walked out in a line, the one in front—Mo Beiyu—suddenly stopped. The two behind him, looking down, bumped right into his back.
Mo Nanqing and Mo Dongchen rubbed their foreheads and looked up, then silently turned their hands behind their backs and stood still.
Just then, Song Wenxi came upstairs after swimming. She had a bath towel wrapped around her and was drying her wet hair. Seeing the three children standing in the hallway on the right, she smiled at them.
Mo Beiyu’s eyes flickered. The two younger ones quickly brought their hands forward again.
The three pairs of round eyes stared at her. Song Wenxi felt a little awkward under their gaze.
“You guys go downstairs first. I just finished swimming and will come down after changing.”
After she went into her room, Mo Dongchen spoke a little louder:
“Brother, she went swimming—she’s at home!”
“I know.”
Mo Beiyu walked toward the stairs with his hands behind his back. As he passed her room, he quickly glanced inside before going downstairs.
Mo Nanqing stood at the doorway for a moment, and Mo Dongchen pulled him away, whispering:
“Second brother, hurry up. If we don’t behave, she might change back.”
Hearing this from behind the door, Song Wenxi felt her heart soften.
Good kids—so cute and well-behaved.
The original owner only cared about money, luxury brands, and appearances. She gave birth to children but did not raise them, married a man but did not care for him, and lived purely for superficial desires.
Honestly, she really did seem like a cannon-fodder character destined for a bad ending.
But now that she had come here, that ending had to be rewritten.
Song Wenxi changed into a simple, loose home dress, dried her hair halfway, and went downstairs.
In the living room, the three children sat quietly on the long sofa. Their small feet were swinging, but the moment they saw her, they all stopped.
“Zhao Ma, let’s eat,” she said, then turned to the children with a smile. “Let’s have dinner.”
The three children slid off the sofa and climbed onto their chairs, sitting properly at the dining table. Their eating manners were very polite—slow, quiet, and careful.
This was the result of the original owner’s strict and angry discipline.
She was a perfectionist when it came to etiquette, and couldn’t tolerate even the slightest sound at the table. If a spoon clinked against a plate, it could set her off. When her anger peaked, she even forbade the children from sitting opposite her.
Clang!
A spoon suddenly fell to the floor, rice spilling onto the table, chair, and clothes.
Mo Dongchen trembled, tears instantly welling up. His small face tightened as he bit his lip hard.
Mo Beiyu and Mo Nanqing froze as well, stiff with fear, looking toward Song Wenxi across the table.
They were waiting for the usual shouting and scolding…
But nothing came.
Song Wenxi saw their reactions and felt a pang of pity.
“Zhao Ma, bring another spoon for Xiaocheng,” she said, standing up. She grabbed some tissues, walked over, and gently wiped the rice off the child’s clothes, then lifted him and placed him beside her instead.
Zhao Ma quickly brought a new spoon, cleaned up the mess, and quietly returned to the kitchen. Seeing her mistress calm and composed, she finally relaxed a little.
“It’s okay. I used to drop my spoon all the time when I was little too.”
She handed the new spoon to Mo Dongchen. He held it tightly and stared at her blankly.
His dark eyes were full of tears—surprised, confused, and wary, yet pitiful.
Song Wenxi gently patted his head. “Eat.”
Mo Beiyu relaxed slightly, glanced at his younger brother, and quietly continued eating. Suddenly, a chicken wing appeared in his bowl. He looked up sharply and met her smile.
“Xiaoyu, have one.”
“And Xiaoqing too.”
Mo Nanqing looked at the chicken wing in his bowl. “Thank you,” he said softly.
“You’re welcome,” she replied, not forgetting to give Mo Dongchen one as well.
Dinner ended quietly, no longer tense, but warm and peaceful.
After bathing and getting ready for bed, the three children lay on the same large bed. Their eyes stayed open, unwilling to sleep, afraid that if they did, everything would change again.
Song Wenxi’s room was still under renovation, so she planned to sleep in another room for the night.
When she passed the hallway, she noticed a light still on in the children’s room. She gently pushed the door open.
Three pairs of eyes immediately looked over.
“Why aren’t you sleeping yet?” she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Go to bed early so you can grow taller.”
The three small heads hesitated.
Xiaocheng finally spoke softly, “Tomorrow… will you change?”
Song Wenxi paused. Looking at their tense little faces, she smiled gently.
“No. I won’t change.”
“Before… I wasn’t a good mother.”
“But I won’t be like that anymore.”
The three children closed their eyes, not daring to ask anything else.
After they fell asleep, Song Wenxi turned off the light and quietly left the room.
She let out a long breath.
The trauma left by the original owner wouldn’t disappear overnight. No amount of words could compare to consistent actions over time.
Yawning, she went to sleep in Mo Hanche’s room.
He wouldn’t be back anyway.
The family’s tragic “cannon-fodder” ending had a large part to do with him.
This man was completely devoted to work and rarely came home. The original owner neglected the children, and as a father, Mo Hanche wasn’t much better.
Truly, a pair of parents that made one speechless.