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

Qin Yue felt the temperature around her drop by at least five degrees, and goosebumps rose from her arms all the way to the back of her neck.

She glanced at He Wanqing, whose face was expressionless, like a distant mountain covered with a thin layer of snow.

Qin Yue silently re-evaluated her best friend's fighting strength in her mind—a Dou Zong level expert.

It's terrifying that it can control the surrounding temperature.

Tongtong lifted her little head from He Wanqing's arms, looked up at her mother, her face full of innocence:

"Mom, what's wrong? Dad's so popular! Dad's so awesome!"

He Wanqing's lips twitched slightly, the curve somewhere between a smile and clenched teeth, her voice soft, as if squeezed out from between her teeth: "Yes, Dad is really popular."

She was practically grinding her teeth to powder. That scoundrel dared to show her personal belongings to that vixen.

She'll teach him a lesson tonight.

Mo Ye on the court was unaware of the approaching danger. He dribbled the ball across half-court, turned his head to look at He Wanqing, winked at her, blinked, and curled his lips into a smile, exuding a charming and irresistible aura.

He Wanqing was furious when she saw him still having the nerve to wink. Her expression turned even colder, like a block of ice.

Shen Qing hit a three-pointer, further widening the score gap. The referee blew the whistle for halftime.

A girl holding a mineral water bottle hesitated whether to go forward.

She glanced at He Wanqing beside Mo Ye, then at the water in her hand, silently put the water bottle away, and turned to walk towards Shen Qing.

Shen Qing was wiping away sweat with a towel when she saw someone offering her water, and she quickly waved her hand.

Wang Jie saw this, reached out and took the water, unscrewed the cap and took a big gulp. He didn't have a wife or girlfriend, so he wasn't afraid.

Mo Ye walked up to He Wanqing, bent down, placed his hands on his knees, breathed slightly, and his forehead was covered with fine beads of sweat that glistened under the light.

A smirk played on his lips, a hint of pride and anticipation in his expression: "Am I exceptionally handsome?"

Then he saw He Wanqing looking at him expressionlessly. Her eyes, which were usually gentle and calm, were now completely still, like a frozen lake.

Her voice was flat, revealing no emotion: "Yeah, very handsome."

Mo Ye's smile froze on his face.

He keenly sensed an unusual low pressure in the air, like the calm before a storm.

His voice unconsciously lowered, tinged with a hint of caution: "What happened?"

He Wanqing's voice remained calm, but every word seemed to be coated with ice: "You're very popular with girls, aren't you~ School Heartthrob Mo↗" The last syllable rose, carrying a hint of sarcastic coolness.

Mo Ye paused for a moment, then smiled.

His little darling is jealous.

He knelt down in front of her, placed his hands on her knees, looked up at her, and said in a soft voice, as if coaxing a sulking child, "It's all my fault, don't be angry, okay?"

He Wanqing snorted and pinched his arm with just the right amount of force, making him grimace.

She pulled Mo Ye up, reached out and pulled the hem of his shirt out of his waistband, stuffed it in, then pulled it out again, carefully stuffed it in, tied it tight, and pressed it down with her hand to make sure it wouldn't come out on its own.

Her movements were serious, her voice neither too loud nor too soft, but every word carried an undeniable warning: "If you dare to show my abs to those vixens again, I'll take off my shirt and show it to other men."

Mo Ye's eyelids twitched wildly several times.

The image flashed through his mind: He Wanqing taking off her top in front of everyone and then quickly shaking her head to shake off the terrible thought.

He raised his right hand, his four fingers together, his expression so serious it was as if he were making a vow: "I will never do it again, I swear."

He Wanqing snorted, her voice still cool, but the ice in her eyes had melted away: "You'll be punished, but you won't escape death. Kneel on the keyboard when you get back tonight."

Mo Ye nodded repeatedly, like a chick pecking at rice, his smile as bright as the summer sun: "It's good that my wife isn't angry."

He pointed to his still-sweating forehead. "I'm sweating."

He Wanqing took out a tissue from her bag, folded it, stood up, tiptoed, and began to wipe his sweat.

Her movements were very gentle; she wiped his forehead to the tip of his nose, from the tip of his nose to his chin, and then wiped his neck.

The tissue was soaked, so I replaced it and continued wiping.

Her voice softened, like ice melting into water: "Okay." She held out the milk tea to him to drink.

Mo Ye lowered his head and took a sip; it was sweet.

Shen Qing stood to the side, watching Mo Ye being served like a king by his sister-in-law. Her eyes darted around, and she slowly moved in front of Qin Yue, bending down, placing her hands on her knees, breathing slightly heavily. She imitated Mo Ye's manner, looking at Qin Yue expectantly, her voice carrying a hint of probing and anticipation:

"Sister Qin, is there any water?"

Qin Yue glanced at him, then looked at her empty hands.

She did not prepare water.

Her gaze unconsciously drifted to the side—He Wanqing was feeding Mo Ye milk tea.

As if possessed, she raised the milk tea in her hand and offered it to Shen Qing.

Shen Qing's eyes lit up like electric light bulbs as she looked at the milk tea in front of her.

His movements were as fast as if he were snapping up limited-edition sneakers, as if afraid she would change her mind. He quickly leaned over, put the straw in his mouth, and took a deep breath.

The milk tea flowed into his mouth, sweet and delightful. His eyes narrowed into crescents as he said, "So sweet."

Qin Yue only realized the stupid thing she had just done when she heard him say "So sweet." Her face flushed red, the color spreading from her ears all the way to her neck. Oh no, wasn't that an indirect kiss?

She felt like her brain was an overloaded computer, with the CPU temperature soaring to the critical point, the fan whirring, but it just wouldn't come down.

She shoved the milk tea into Shen Qing's hand, her voice both urgent and shy: "Here, have some."

Shen Qing's eyes shone like two stars.

He didn't mind at all; he even planned to use it to make tea when he got back.

He picked up his water glass that was next to him, unscrewed the lid, poured out all the water inside, leaving not a drop, then poured the milk tea into the glass, tightened the lid, and held it in his hands like a precious treasure.

Qin Yue watched his series of smooth and effortless actions, her lips twitching, and her voice muffled: "Didn't you have water? Why did you have to ask me for some?"

She sat obediently on the stool, legs together, hands on her knees, head down, pretending nothing had happened, but the tips of her ears were still bright red.

The boys and girls around them were heartbroken watching this scene.

In this massive display of affection, some people have already silently swallowed a mouthful of airy dog ​​food, comforting themselves: I've eaten before, too.

Shen Qing moved closer to Mo Ye, lowered her voice, and secretly glanced at Qin Yue before quickly looking away, acting like a thief: "What were you doing just now? Your sister-in-law seems unhappy."

Mo Ye wiped the sweat from his forehead and briefly explained the situation.

Upon hearing this, Shen Qing's eyes lit up, and she lowered her voice even further, with a hint of excitement at discovering something new: "Girls like this?"

Mo Ye nodded and used a metaphor he could understand: "It's similar to how we boys like girls' breasts."

Shen Qing's eyes shone even brighter, like fireworks that had been lit.

He nodded thoughtfully, silently memorizing the point.

The second half of the game has begun.

As Shen Qing ran around the field, he would intentionally or unintentionally lift his shirt to wipe his sweat, each time he lifted it directly in the direction where Qin Yue was sitting.

Qin Yue sat there expressionless, arms crossed, her gaze fixed on him like a nail.

She's a psychologist, how could she not know about his little tricks?

She had seen too many patients trying to play tricks on her, and Shen Qing's approach was nothing more than child's play in her eyes.

Then she heard girls around her whispering, "Look at Shen Qing's abs, they're so good-looking."

"Compared to Mo, the school heartthrob, whose abs are better looking?"

"Mo Ye, the school heartthrob, has a more rugged and defined look, while Shen Qing's is more well-proportioned."

"Nonsense, Mo, the school's most handsome guy, is more well-proportioned."

"Go back and compare it with my photos."

Qin Yue's lips twitched, and her expression changed from calm to stiff, and then from stiff to a complex feeling that was hard to describe.

He Wanqing, standing next to them, didn't look much better; both of their faces were as black as the bottom of a pot...