Shocking! A three-year-old brings his aloof mother to their door.

Mo Ye's voice was a little low, "My mind went blank at the time, and I don't remember much about what he said afterward."

All I remember is that he said he had one request: I should finish high school before making a choice.

He believed that even if I studied and played games at the same time, I wouldn't be any worse than others.

"Then he bought me the best computer at the time and installed a separate internet connection so I could play with it after school."

He Wanqing remained silent for a long time.

She didn't know whether to call it confidence, a gamble, or a father's almost blind trust in his child.

All she knew was that the vast majority of parents in the world couldn't do that.

"I don't know if I can do what my dad did."

Mo Ye let out a soft breath, "In more than 20 years, I have hardly ever argued with him."

As a child, I admired him; as an adult, I felt gratitude; and now… I want to be like him.

What he didn't say was that in countless moments of becoming a father, he would recall that afternoon, amidst the noisy keyboard sounds of the internet cafe, his father standing behind him, silently watching his still-childish face reflected in the screen.

He Wanqing remained silent for a long time.

She was thinking about her father.

They never argued.

The only time was when she stood at the study door with her pregnant belly and said, "I'm not getting married, I'll support myself."

The father didn't say anything, but simply took off his glasses and slowly wiped them for a long time.

Finally, two were given:

1. "Choose to marry the child's father or have an abortion"

Second, "Severing the father-daughter relationship".

He Wanqing clearly chose the latter.

"When I go back this time..." He Wanqing began softly, her voice low, "I want to apologize to my father."

Mo Ye turned to look at her.

"It's not about admitting defeat, nor does it mean that having a daughter out of wedlock is wrong."

She paused for a moment, then said, "But... he's my father."

The word "Dad" was spoken softly, yet it felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Mo Ye didn't say anything, but simply pulled her closer to him.

Mo Ye lay down and rested his head on her lap.

He Wanqing looked down at him. She thought he was still lost in his memories, until—

He sniffed heavily.

"..." He Wanqing looked down at him, her tone cool, "You're taking advantage of me again."

Mo Ye closed his eyes, a satisfied smile playing on his lips, and chuckled softly, "You smell so good."

"rogue."

"How is it indecent for me to lie on my wife's lap?"

He Wanqing's face was cold, her legs tightened, but the tips of her ears turned red.

She reached out to push him away, but her fingertips touched the ends of his hair, and then she lost her strength.

Mo Ye looked up at her; from this angle, he could only see her fair chin, and—

His gaze paused subtly for a moment.

Ok.

It was blocked.

He Wanqing noticed his gaze, looked down at him, and then looked up at him again.

"Did you just look at something you shouldn't have?"

"No," Mo Ye replied too quickly.

"..."

"Really, no," he tried to sound innocent. "I was just admiring the snow."

He Wanqing was too lazy to expose him, so she simply didn't do anything.

"Do you have two personalities?" Mo Ye rested his head on her lap, shifting to a more comfortable position.

"Sometimes she's as cold as an ice queen, unapproachable. Other times she's so gentle, like right now. How did she develop that?"

He Wanqing gave a soft "heh".

"If you were in my position, attending meetings from morning till night every day, dealing with clients, manipulating suppliers, and handling the board of directors, if you still couldn't master it..."

She said slowly and deliberately, "I'd suspect you have some mental issues."

Mo Ye: "..."

He paused for a moment, then said, "It seems... to make some sense."

He Wanqing patted his shoulder:

"Get up, time to go to sleep. Don't we have to get up early for the market tomorrow?"

Mo Ye stood up in response. As soon as he stood still, he saw He Wanqing sitting on the sofa, not moving, but quietly stretching out her hands and raising them slightly towards him.

This is an obvious posture of waiting to be picked up.

Mo Ye paused for a moment, then immediately bent down, put one arm around her back, and slipped the other under her knees.

It's very light.

He Wanqing naturally wrapped her arms around his neck in his arms, her hair brushing against his cheeks, still damp from her shower.

It's only a dozen or so steps from the sofa to the bedroom.

Mo Ye tried his best to make his journey steady.

But she was still too close.

Even through two thin layers of fabric, he could clearly feel the body temperature of the person in his arms.

That warmth, different from the air, belonging to another person, was seeping through the fabric, densely and omnipresent.

His hand rested above the back of her knees, the most elastic spot, and even through the soft cotton pajama pants, the feel was surprisingly good.

Not to mention...

The sensation on my chest.

She leaned naturally against his chest, and a soft presence touched him through the fabric.

It seems to be there, yet it cannot be ignored.

Mo Ye's Adam's apple bobbed. He didn't dare to lower his head or think about what it was.

He simply tightened his grip and quickened his pace.

"Wanqing".

"……Um?"

"Thank you for coming back with me."

She didn't answer. But the hand that had been loosely resting on his shoulder tightened a little.

Mo Ye carried her into the bedroom and gently placed her on the bedside.

He didn't let go immediately, but bent down and looked at her from a distance of about a hand's width.

He Wanqing met his gaze without looking away.

After a long pause, she said softly:

"What time do I get up tomorrow?"

"Six-thirty. You have to get to the market early."

"Then why aren't you going to take a shower?"

Mo Ye smiled and stood up straight: "Yes, sir."

The sound of water in the bathroom stopped at some point.

Mo Ye casually dried his hair with a towel, pushed open the door and walked into the bedroom, still thinking about what he needed to bring to the market tomorrow. Then he froze on the spot as if he had been struck by a magic acupuncture point.

He Wanqing had changed into a nightgown at some point.

Purple, with lace trim.

The skirt was short, barely covering the middle of her thighs.

She sat on the chair, one leg casually crossed over the other, her fair and slender figure extending from under the hem of her skirt, gleaming softly under the light.

She was looking down at an old photo album, her expression languid, her hair slightly curled at the ends, like a satisfied cat.

Mo Ye's Adam's apple bobbed.

not good!!!

He had a premonition that something terrible was about to happen.

Sure enough, just as he approached the bedside, He Wanqing happened to turn to a certain page.

She stopped pointing.

He lifted his eyelids.

The smile slowly spread from the corners of her eyes, like spring water overflowing the riverbank.

"Mo Ye," she said softly, her voice rising at the end, "you look so cute in that dress."

Mo Ye lowered his head.

In the photo, a three- or four-year-old boy, wearing a snow-white tulle dress and a lace headband, stands in the courtyard of his old home, making a clumsy peace sign at the camera.

A bright smile.

The skirt flows gracefully.

She looks more like his daughter than his own daughter.

Mo Ye: "..."

Such as knuckles in the throat.

Rumors are on the back.

Like sitting on pins and needles.

He Wanqing was already laughing so hard she was lying on the quilt, her shoulders shaking.

She pointed to the little figure in the photo with her fingertip: "This one is white, and there's also pink? Auntie bought you so many..."