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

Mo Ye gently tapped her head: "What are you thinking about?"

He Wanqing rubbed the spot where she had been hit and said with a wronged expression, "You bullied me."

Mo Ye laughed, his hand sliding down her waist, his fingertips hooking the edge of her bodycon skirt: "I'm just teasing you."

He Wanqing quickly pressed his hand down and lowered her voice, "No! We'll be in trouble if someone comes in."

Mo Ye nodded, stood up, pulled her up from the chair, and led her by the hand toward the lounge.

After going inside, he closed the door behind him and locked it.

Mo Ye pinned her down on the small bed, his hands braced on either side of her body, looking down at her.

He Wanqing braced herself against his chest with both hands, her fingertips touching the warm skin beneath his clothes, her heart pounding wildly: "What...what do you want to do?"

Mo Ye looked down into her large, watery eyes, where his own reflection was mirrored, like a pool of clear spring water.

He grinned mischievously, his voice so low only she could hear, "What do you think?"

He Wanqing closed her eyes, her eyelashes trembled, and she had a look of resignation: "You do it."

Mo Ye couldn't help but laugh when he saw her like that.

He straightened up and began to take off her shirt, unbuttoning it one button at a time.

He Wanqing closed her eyes and felt her shirt being pulled off her shoulders, then the zipper of her pencil skirt being unzipped, and the skirt being gently pulled down.

Then his own clothes, shirt and pants, fell to the ground one by one.

Then he lay down, pulled her into his arms, and covered them both with the blanket.

He Wanqing opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him.

His arms were around her waist, his palms pressed against her back, warm and strong.

She could feel his skin pressed against hers, their body temperatures mingling through the thin blanket.

"Are you feeling unwell?" she asked softly, her voice muffled against his chest.

Mo Ye lowered his head and kissed her forehead, his lips brushing against her skin, his voice low: "No. I'm with you, not just for that kind of thing."

He Wanqing felt a warmth in her heart, and with a mischievous wink, she said in a test of her voice, "Then let's not do that kind of thing anymore, okay?"

Mo Ye's voice unconsciously rose several octaves, almost blurting out, "No! How can that be!"

He Wanqing covered her mouth, her eyes crinkling into crescent moons as she laughed.

Mo Ye looked at her smug little face, gritted his teeth, and his hands began to wander, slowly roaming on her back, his fingertips following the spine down and drawing circles on her waist.

He Wanqing felt weak all over from his touch, and not to be outdone, she reached her hand under the blanket and groped around his waist and abdomen.

The two of them took turns probing each other, like two cats testing each other.

In the end, Mo Ye was the first to give in. He Wanqing's hands were too soft, her breath was too close, and the faint fragrance emanating from her body relentlessly assaulted his nose. He felt like he was about to lose control.

He abruptly released her, rolled out of bed, strode into the bathroom, turned on the tap, and splashed cold water on his face repeatedly.

Cold water dripped down his chin, wetting his chest.

He leaned against the sink, head down, panting for a while before feeling the heat slowly subside.

He dried his face with a towel, looked in the mirror, and saw that his eyes were still red, but he was presentable enough to be seen in public.

He took a deep breath and pushed open the bathroom door.

He Wanqing peeked out from under the covers, looking at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes: "Finished so quickly?"

Mo Ye threw back the covers and squeezed in, pulling her into his arms and resting his chin on the top of her head: "You know how long it's been."

He Wanqing moved slowly over like a silkworm, leaned against him, and whispered in his ear, "I can actually help you."

Her voice was as soft as cotton candy, carrying a warm breath that brushed against his ear.

She was only wearing underwear, and through the thin fabric, he could clearly feel the softness and warmth of her body; her smooth skin clung to his arm like the finest silk.

Mo Ye shook his head, pulling her closer to him, his voice low but carrying an undeniable seriousness:

"You're on your period right now. When you help me, I feel better, but you don't."

He Wanqing felt as if something had struck her heart hard, and her nose suddenly felt a little sore.

She looked up at him; his jawline was sharply defined, and his Adam's apple bobbed slightly. She whispered, "You're so kind."

Mo Ye glanced down at her, a smirk playing on his lips: "If we're going to have fun, we'll have fun together."

He Wanqing exclaimed "Ah!" and quickly covered his mouth with her hand, her face turning bright red again: "Can't you say it more politely?"

Mo Ye stuck out his tongue and gently licked her palm.

He Wanqing exclaimed "Ouch!" and pulled her hand back as if burned, punching him lightly in the chest: "You bad guy!"

Mo Ye smiled so hard his eyes narrowed: "No."

He Wanqing glared at him angrily, but there was no anger in her watery eyes, only overflowing, unconcealed joy.

Mo Ye reached out and pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head, and closed his eyes: "Let's sleep. Otherwise, I really can't hold back anymore."

He Wanqing buried her face in his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat, and softly murmured "Mmm..."

She nuzzled her face against his chest, finding the most comfortable position, and slowly closed her eyes.

Mo Ye looked down at He Wanqing, who was leaning against him. Her eyelashes were hanging down quietly, her breathing was gentle, and her cheek was pressed against his skin, warm and soft.

He suddenly felt his heart was filled with something, like the warm winter sun shining in.

He closed his eyes as well.

The lounge was quiet, with only the intertwined breathing of two people, one light and one heavy, slowly becoming synchronized.

The lounge was quiet, with only the hum of the air conditioner running.

Under the covers, their body heat mingled, making it impossible to tell whose was whose.

As He Wanqing was drifting off to sleep, she vaguely thought, "This man is really good."

She snuggled closer to him, placed her hand on his waist, and unconsciously traced circles on his side with her fingers.

Mo Ye felt itchy from her drawing, so he took her hand, intertwined their fingers, and pressed himself between them.

"Stop fooling around," he said with his eyes closed.

He Wanqing didn't respond; her breathing had already become even.

Mo Ye opened his eyes, looked down at her, and saw that she was asleep, her eyelashes were still, and her lips were slightly parted, like a kitten.

He smiled, kissed her forehead, and closed his eyes again.

The air conditioner was blowing gently, causing the blanket to ripple slightly.

The two of them squeezed onto a small bed in the lounge, the blanket covering their shoulders, their hair spread out on the same pillow.

Mo Ye's arm, which was being used as a pillow by her, was already a little numb, but he didn't move.

He Wanqing unconsciously snuggled closer to him in her sleep, and he held her a little tighter...