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

With foam in her mouth, He Wanqing asked indistinctly, "Do you have class today?"

Mo Ye, his mouth still full of foam, mumbled, "I have one class this morning, then I have to go to school at 8 a.m. I can't take you to the company today."

He Wanqing nodded, spat out the foam, rinsed her mouth with water, and her voice returned to its usual clear tone: "I can take Tongtong there."

Mo Ye spat out the foam, nodded, turned on the tap to wash his face, and then picked up He Wanqing's towel to wipe the water droplets off her face.

His movements were very gentle, wiping from his forehead to his chin as if he were polishing a precious piece of porcelain.

"I'll come find you after class today. We'll have lunch together and then take a nap."

He pronounced the word "sleep" in a soft and ambiguous way.

When He Wanqing heard "let's eat together," the corners of her mouth curled up slightly, but when she heard "sleep," the corners of her mouth pulled back down again.

She shook her head, her voice cool: "You don't need to come."

Mo Ye's expression instantly deflated like a frostbitten eggplant. He slumped into He Wanqing's arms, his head resting on her neck, his arms wrapped around her waist. His voice was full of grievance and sadness, like a large dog abandoned by its owner.

"Is my wife dissatisfied with me? What did I do wrong?"

He Wanqing looked down at the man in her arms, who was a head taller than her. He was nestled in her arms like a large dog, his head nuzzling against her neck.

She sighed silently to herself, feeling as if she had truly raised a son.

She reached out and touched his head, her fingers gently combing through his hair. Her voice softened, carrying a hint of helplessness and doting, as well as a motherly tenderness she herself was unaware of: "You can only come when you're properly asleep."

Mo Ye nuzzled against her shoulder, looked up at her innocently, and asked with a hint of doubt in his voice:

"Of course it's time for a proper sleep, what are you thinking, sister?"

He Wanqing rolled her eyes at him, pouted, and said in a muffled voice, "Fine, fine, I'm a Minion."

She paused, looking at him clinging to her, and couldn't help but speak.

"Why are you acting like a little kid? You might as well call me 'Mom' like Tongtong does."

Mo Ye was taken aback.

His Wanqing, is she playing these tricks so much?

He looked up into her eyes, a slow smile playing on his lips, his voice tinged with a hint of probing: "Do you want to hear it?"

He Wanqing supported her chest with her jade-like arm, raised her chin slightly, and said with a hint of mischievous smugness in her tone, "Of course I want to."

Mo Ye pondered for a moment, then opened his mouth and softly called out, "Mom."

He Wanqing's face "exploded," turning red from her forehead to her neck, making her look like a boiled shrimp.

She quickly reached out and covered his mouth, her voice trembling with embarrassment and panic: "What...what are you doing!"

Mo Ye stuck out his tongue and licked her palm.

He Wanqing pulled her hand back as if she had been burned, and quickly turned on the tap to rinse her palms. The water was cool, but her palms were still hot.

Mo Ye wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, rested his chin on her shoulder, and whispered in her ear, his voice low and tinged with a mischievous smile:

"Didn't you want to hear me call you that, sister?"

He Wanqing stammered, her voice barely audible, "I... I was just saying."

Although she said that, she felt a tingling sensation in her heart, as if something had gently scratched her heart.

Could it be that deep down, I yearn for it?

He Wanqing herself couldn't believe that she had such a fetish.

She glared at him, her eyes filled with both shame and anger.

Mo Ye looked at her, wondering why she was unhappy. His smile faded, and he said in a warm voice, "Then I won't call you that anymore, okay?"

He Wanqing quickly spoke, her voice unconsciously rising and her pace quickening: "No!"

She regretted it as soon as the words left her mouth.

Mo Ye hummed in response, his voice rising at the end with a meaningful smile.

He Wanqing immediately shrank her neck and started to act like a quail again, lowering her head and staring at her toes, pretending that she hadn't said anything.

Mo Ye looked at the little woman in his arms who had curled up like a quail, and the corners of his mouth slowly turned up.

So this is what Wanqing was like.

He reached out and gently lifted the hem of her nightgown, slipping his hand inside.

He Wanqing felt his hand and quickly reached out to grab it, trying to stop him.

But her strength was like a mantis trying to stop a chariot; she couldn't stop anything at all.

Mo Ye's hands gently rubbed her body, as if kneading a soft dough.

He Wanqing felt a chill in her lower body, and she suddenly remembered that she wasn't wearing anything under her nightgown.

When he lifted her skirt like that, she felt extremely ashamed and wished she could disappear into the ground.

She buried her face in his chest, too afraid to look in the mirror.

Mo Ye glanced at her in the mirror, then their eyes met.

Using the reflection in the mirror, He Wanqing watched as Mo Ye's gaze moved down her face, from her neck to her chest, and from her chest to her lower abdomen.

She closed her eyes, her eyelashes trembling slightly. Since it wasn't the first time, she decided to pretend she hadn't seen anything.

Looking at the image in the mirror, Mo Ye felt a surge of heat rise from his lower abdomen, making his mouth dry.

He Wanqing felt that he had pointed a gun at her again.

She quickly twisted her body, slipped out of his arms like a slippery fish, and then ran out of the bathroom with a "tap tap tap" sound, like a startled little rabbit, hopping and skipping, her white nightgown fluttering behind her.

Mo Ye stood in the bathroom, looked down at himself, and gave a wry smile.

When did he become so lecherous?

It was not like this before.

Then he remembered how He Wanqing had skipped and hopped away just now—those long, white legs, the hem of her skirt fluttering in the wind, her bright red earlobes…

He seemed to understand again.

He had absolutely no resistance to her.

He Wanqing came in with clothes and dragged Mo Ye out of the bathroom.

Mo Ye looked at her and suggested, "Why don't we just change it? We've already seen it anyway."

He Wanqing snorted, her voice cool: "You've watched it so many times, when have you ever resisted even once?"

Mo Ye coughed awkwardly, touched his nose, and remained silent.

He Wanqing closed the door and quietly changed her clothes inside.

Mo Ye stood outside the door and heard the sounds of zippers, fabric rubbing, and her soft humming.

He leaned against the wall, his hands in his pockets, a smirk playing on his lips.

A few minutes later, He Wanqing came out dressed in business attire.

A white shirt was tucked into a black pencil skirt, a blazer was draped over her arm, and her hair was styled in a neat bun, revealing her fair and slender neck.

The bodycon skirt hugged her legs tightly, perfectly outlining her figure. Her waist was so thin it looked like it would break if pinched, and her hips were round and full. The lines from her waist to her legs flowed as smoothly as a poem.

Mo Ye looked at her, his gaze lingering on her waistline.

He Wanqing felt the intense gaze, stopped, crossed her arms, tilted her head to look at him, a half-smile playing on her lips, and said coolly, "Why are you like that horny teddy bear?"