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

Mo Ye nodded without hesitation, nodding like a chicken pecking at rice, as if afraid she would change her mind.

He Wanqing turned and went into the bedroom to change into a pair of trousers.

It was black and loose, completely covering her legs.

When she came out, Mo Ye was standing in the corridor waiting for her, looking at her with a warm feeling in his eyes.

He Wanqing didn't look at him, her voice as calm as if she were saying the weather was nice today: "Let's go out."

Mo Ye nodded and took her hand. Her fingers were long and slender, slightly cool, but they slowly warmed up in his palm.

He suddenly remembered something and paused in his tracks: "Wait, what if Tongtong wakes up?"

He Wanqing thought for a moment and said, "It's okay. There are security cameras in the living room. We'll come back when she wakes up. We're just running around the neighborhood anyway."

Mo Ye nodded and pulled He Wanqing out.

The two walked onto the community's fitness trail and stretched for a while, doing leg presses, shoulder rotations, and ankle exercises.

When He Wanqing bent over, Mo Ye's gaze fell on her and then returned, repeating this several times.

After stretching, He Wanqing opened the fitness app on her phone, pressed "start," and grabbed the phone.

The two stood side by side on the starting line. Mo Ye glanced at her, and she glanced at Mo Ye in return.

"Begin," He Wanqing said softly.

The two people took steps at the same time.

He Wanqing ran fast, with a quick stride and short strides, but each step was powerful and her landing was light.

Mo Ye followed her pace, neither overtaking nor falling behind. Their steps were almost synchronized, making a rhythmic sound on the quiet path, "tap tap tap tap".

He Wanqing maintained a pace of about four and a half minutes per kilometer, which is not slow for an amateur runner, but Mo Ye kept up with ease and his breathing was not disordered.

Neither of them spoke.

There were only footsteps, breathing, and the rustling of the night wind through the treetops.

Five kilometers.

He Wanqing slowly stopped, placed her hands on her knees, and gasped for breath. Sweat dripped from her forehead and onto the black artificial stone pavement, spreading into a small dot.

Mo Ye took out a handkerchief he had prepared in advance from his waist bag, walked up to her, and began to wipe her sweat.

He started by wiping her forehead, the towel absorbing the fine beads of sweat. Then he moved down her cheeks, wiping her nose, her chin, and her neck.

The movements were very light and slow, like polishing a precious piece of porcelain.

He Wanqing was covered in sweat, but there was not a trace of unpleasant smell on her body. Instead, she was full of fragrance, a sweet and elegant fragrance that was mixed with her body heat and belonged to her.

Mo Ye lowered his head, nuzzled the top of her head with his nose, and took a deep breath. He thought to himself: Sure enough, even a beautiful woman's poop smells sweet.

"Let's go back and change our clothes. Otherwise, we might catch a cold if we breathe in the sweat."

He put away the towel and patted her back.

He Wanqing straightened up and looked at Mo Ye. There was only a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. His breathing was steady and he was calm and composed, as if the five kilometers he had just walked was just a warm-up for him.

She muttered to herself, "He really has incredible stamina."

Back home, Mo Ye glanced at the living room monitor screen. Tongtong was still curled up in her crib, hugging her little pink pig, fast asleep, her little mouth slightly open, her breathing rising and falling.

He smiled and said, "Tongtong hasn't woken up."

He Wanqing smiled and shook her head, her voice carrying a hint of indulgent helplessness: "That little pig, how could he wake up so easily?"

She took her clothes and prepared to change.

Mo Ye followed behind her, his voice chasing after her from behind: "Didn't you want a massage? You don't need to change your clothes, just take them off."

He Wanqing turned around, looked at him, raised an eyebrow slightly, and asked with a hint of scrutiny in her tone, "Is your massage legitimate?"

Mo Ye coughed and cleared his throat, trying to make his expression look serious, but the curve of his lips betrayed him.

"Who would do a proper massage? Of course, it's not a proper one."

He Wanqing's lips curled up slightly, the curve was so shallow, like ripples on a lake surface stirred by the wind, that it was barely noticeable unless you looked closely.

"So, do I have to take everything off?"

Mo Ye puffed out his chest, adopting an expression that said, "I'm a righteous person. I'm not that kind of person. I'm a gentleman."

He Wanqing's lips curled up even higher, her voice tinged with a hint of mischief: "I was going to say I'd take my clothes off for you to massage, but I didn't expect you to refuse, that's great."

Mo Ye became anxious: "Actually, if you take your clothes off and let me massage you, I have no objection."

He Wanqing looked at him, raising an eyebrow slightly: "Didn't you say you didn't need it?"

Mo Ye opened his mouth, only to realize that he had gotten himself into a trap.

"I........"

He Wanqing spoke again, her voice unhurried: "Aren't you a gentleman?"

"......."

He paused for two seconds, then stroked his chin: "Of course I'm not interested in anyone else, but you're not just anyone, you're my wife."

He Wanqing raised her eyebrows again, and the curve of her lips widened.

But her words were still cold: "Although, but, I won't give it to you."

Mo Ye felt his heart bleeding.

He missed out on opportunities worth hundreds of millions—no, opportunities that hundreds of millions couldn't buy.

Seeing his annoyed expression, He Wanqing finally couldn't suppress the smile playing on her lips. That scoundrel.

She turned and went into the bedroom without closing the door.

Mo Ye went up to the third floor, took a yoga mat from the storage room, carried it down, and laid it on the living room floor.

When the mats were laid out, He Wanqing came out of the bedroom.

She had already taken off her clothes, wearing only a black lace bra and matching panties, lying face down on the yoga mat with her face resting on her arm, her long hair cascading down her back like a piece of black silk.

Mo Ye looked at it for two seconds, then turned around and took out several bottles of essential oil from under the coffee table, lining them up next to the cushion.

He unscrewed the bottle cap, poured some into his palm, rubbed it, and brought the essential oil to a temperature close to his body temperature.

Then he knelt down and placed his hand on her shoulder.

He Wanqing felt a few cool drops fall down her back.

Then Mo Ye's hands began to rub her back. At first, they were cold, but then they slowly warmed up. Starting from her shoulders, they went down her back, past her shoulder blades, past the muscles on both sides of her spine, past her lower back, and stopped at her waist.

His hands were large, his fingers were long, his palms were warm, and his pressure was just right, taking care of every inch of skin and massaging every muscle.

He Wanqing felt as if her back was a lump of dough that had been baked by the sun, being slowly and patiently kneaded by a pair of warm hands. It became softer and warmer, and all the stiffness and fatigue were gradually dissipated by those hands.

"Mmm..." She let out a soft sigh from deep in her throat, the sound as soft as cotton candy soaking in warm water, echoing in the quiet living room.

Her eyes were closed, her eyelashes trembled gently, and all the muscles in her body relaxed, like a cat that had been petted comfortably, even her breathing became soft.

"Isn't this massage more comfortable?" Mo Ye's voice came from above her head.

He Wanqing nodded, burying her face in her arms, her voice muffled, with a hint of satisfied languor: "Indeed, I'll massage like this from now on."

Mo Ye's hands roamed over her body, from her shoulders to her back, from her back to her waist, and from her waist to her legs.

He gently massaged every inch of her skin.

He Wanqing's eyes gradually became unfocused, as if veiled by a layer of mist.

She reached out and grabbed Mo Ye's wrist, her voice soft and gentle, as if drifting from afar: "Come take a shower with me."

Mo Ye's eyes lit up.

Is there really such a good thing?

He Wanqing stood up and led Mo Ye into the bathroom in the bedroom.

The bathroom door closed, and the light came on.

He Wanqing turned around, stood on tiptoe, wrapped her arms around Mo Ye's neck, and kissed him.

It's not just a fleeting touch; it's something warm and full of longing.

Her hand slid down his neck, to his chest, to his lower abdomen, paused for a moment, and then continued downwards, probing inside...