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

She originally wanted to search for "what to eat to nourish the body after intercourse," but after typing a few words in the search box, she deleted them and changed to a more subtle way of saying it.

The page pops up, and the screen is full of various recipes and health tips.

She flipped through the articles one by one and came across one that said:

"Proper nutrition after sexual activity can help the body recover."

She thought it made sense, then flipped to another article that said "Men's physical strength begins to decline after the age of thirty," and frowned slightly.

She remembered that Mo Ye was twenty-two this year, and there were still eight years until he turned thirty, so there was nothing to worry about.

Then I saw another post—"Men are useless after 25, their prime is too short."

He Wanqing's eyes widened, like two startled grapes.

She read the post word by word. The poster tearfully accused her husband of losing his energy after he turned 25, going from seven times a week to once a month. Her tone was filled with regret for "why did I ever marry you" and despair for "is this how my life is going to be?"

He Wanqing looked at the words, "Just when my desire was at its strongest, he couldn't hold it in."

She scrolled down and saw the original poster add, "If you didn't take good care of yourself when you were young, it's no use trying now."

He Wanqing's mind went blank, as if a thousand bees were buzzing around.

This won't do!

I need to take good care of myself.

It needs to be fixed now!

I'll start catching up today!

She immediately exited the browser and opened a fresh food delivery app.

Her fingers flew across the screen, her eyes scanning the product list like a scanner, buying whatever was on sale without even looking at the prices.

Deer antler velvet, wild grouper maw from the deep sea, six-year-old wild ginseng from the snow mountain, wild snow frog from Changbai Mountain, wild sika deer antler, skirt of a hundred-year-old turtle, essence meat of polar silver cod, thousand-year-old matsutake mushroom, pearl oyster meat from the South China Sea, wild golden thread lotus, honey-hearted golden ear fungus from the deep mountains, and she also added a few more common items—oysters, two boxes, please.

Five pounds of chives, please. Ginger, garlic, goji berries, and red dates, all included.

Confirmation, payment—all done in one smooth motion.

noon.

When Mo Ye pushed open the door, a rich, complex, and indescribable fragrance wafted towards him.

It has the freshness of seafood, the bitterness of medicinal herbs, the richness of meat, and the aroma of mushrooms—all sorts of scents mixed together.

He changed his shoes and walked into the living room. The dining table was full, with a large plate of garlic oysters alone.

He Wanqing peeked out from the kitchen, and when she saw him return, her eyes lit up. Her voice was crisp and clear, filled with an urgent "come quickly, come quickly!": "Quickly, quick, I've made you something delicious!"

Mo Ye walked over and sat down at the dining table. Looking at the table full of oysters and chives, he twitched his lips: "Wanqing, why did you make this today?"

He Wanqing walked out of the kitchen carrying a clay pot. The pot was covered with a lid, and steam was still rising from the gaps.

She placed the casserole on the table, lifted the lid, and a rich, fragrant wave of heat carrying the aroma of herbs wafted out.

The soup was dark and rich, with all sorts of ingredients floating in it, some of which he recognized, some of which he didn't, and some of which he didn't want to recognize even if he saw them.

She answered as she ladled out the soup, her tone earnest:

"People say that you guys won't be able to keep up in a few years, so I'm going to give you some good nutrition."

Mo Ye watched as she pushed the bowl of soup in front of him. The soup was rich in color and contained a variety of ingredients, making it look very nourishing.

He looked up at her, his expression subtle: "Who was it last night who said, 'I can't go on,' 'I'm going to die'?"

He Wanqing's face turned bright red instantly.

She glared at him, both ashamed and annoyed, her voice urgent and crisp, like a kitten whose tail had been stepped on: "Will you still be this capable in a few years? This concerns my married life!"

She picked up the spoon, put it in his hand, and then pressed his shoulders down to sit in the chair. "I'll watch you eat."

Mo Ye looked down at the bowl of soup in front of him. Deer penis, fish maw, wild ginseng, snow frog, deer antler, turtle skirt, silver cod essence meat, old matsutake mushroom, pearl oyster meat, golden thread lotus, and golden ear fungus were all concentrated in this bowl.

He felt like he might explode from the effects of drinking it.

"Isn't it unnecessary?" he asked tentatively.

He Wanqing glared at him, her eyes conveying "You dare not eat?", her voice icy:

"This is a matter of my appearance, so I have to be strict. Eat up, or you'll be sleeping alone this week."

Mo Ye glanced at the bowl of soup, then at He Wanqing's little face that seemed to say "You have to eat this," silently picked up the bowl, blew on it, and began to drink.

He Wanqing stood beside him, pointing to a crystal-clear, jelly-like object in the casserole, her tone carrying a hint of smug satisfaction:

"Eat that. That's the skirt of a hundred-year-old turtle. It's very nourishing."

Mo Ye picked up the piece of skirt hem, put it in his mouth, chewed it a couple of times, and found it to be soft and chewy with a rich gelatinous texture, like eating a tasteless jelly.

He Wanqing nodded in satisfaction and served him another bowl.

Mo Ye forced himself to drink the soup.

I drank three large bowls of soup, ate two plates of oysters, a plate of stir-fried eggs with chives, and all sorts of tonics in the casserole.

Mo Ye felt as if there was a furnace burning in his stomach, and the heat spread from his stomach to his limbs. His blood was rushing through his veins, and even his fingertips were slightly hot.

He put down his chopsticks, let out a long breath, his breath hot, leaned back in his chair, and said with a hint of pleading weariness, "It's too greasy."

He Wanqing went to the kitchen, took out a food storage container from the refrigerator, opened it, and inside were shiny black mulberries, plump and full.

She placed the food container in front of him, picked up a piece, put it in her mouth, chewed it, and a little purple juice spilled from the corner of her mouth, which she licked off with the tip of her tongue.

"Come on, have some fruit to cleanse your palate."

Mo Ye stared at the box of mulberries and fell completely silent.

He looked up at He Wanqing, his voice lowering, carrying a hint of danger: "Are you sure... you can handle it?"

He Wanqing paused slightly, her hand holding a mulberry, then picked one up and put it in her mouth. After chewing for a moment, she mumbled, "Shall I have some too?"

Mo Ye: "What do you think?"

He Wanqing shrank her neck.

She felt that burning gaze fall on her like a laser beam, sweeping from head to toe and back again, carrying a "you asked for it" implication.

She silently ate another mulberry.

Mo Ye looked at her timid appearance and laughed, his voice filled with a hint of helplessness and doting: "You were already struggling, and you're doing this now. I don't think you'll get any sleep all night."

He Wanqing choked on his words and started coughing.

She coughed twice, her face flushed red, and looked up at him, both ashamed and angry, her voice urgent and crisp: "You want to kill me?!"

Mo Ye leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head: "Who told you to make so many nourishing foods?"