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

He Wanqing lowered her head, her voice muffled, tinged with grievance and a hint of defense: "I was just thinking about the future, wasn't I?"

Mo Ye stroked his chin, thinking to himself:

"It seems that's true; men really do fall behind women in middle age. Maybe I should be more moderate, since this kind of thing can be harmful to my health."

He thought about it and decided that he should take it easy in the future.

After they had eaten and drunk their fill, they leaned back in their chairs, neither of them wanting to move.

Mo Ye stood up and held out his hand: "Let's go take a nap."

He Wanqing didn't move, turning her face to the side, the tips of her ears slightly red.

Mo Ye looked at her, a hint of doubt in his voice: "What's wrong?"

He Wanqing's voice was muffled, barely audible, like a mosquito's hum: "I still feel a little pain."

Mo Ye reached out and gently flicked her fair forehead: "Then why did you do this?"

He Wanqing rubbed her right calf with her left foot, making an even quieter sound:

"Can we postpone it today?"

Mo Ye took her hand in his, holding it in his palm, and gently rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb: "Don't worry, we won't touch it at noon. We still have work to do this afternoon."

He Wanqing finally breathed a sigh of relief, her tense expression relaxing like a punctured balloon.

She pulled Mo Ye's arm into her embrace, buried her face between his soft breasts, rested her head tightly on his shoulder, rubbed her face against his shoulder, and said in a soft, gentle voice, "Husband, you're so good."

Mo Ye reached out and pinched her soft, collagen-filled cheeks.

The two lay down on the bed.

He Wanqing nestled in his arms, her face pressed against his chest, her hands on his waist, and her legs wrapped around his, clinging to him like an octopus.

Mo Ye held her close, feeling as if a volcano was brewing inside him, lava surging through his veins, and heat emanating from every pore.

He felt like his nose and mouth were about to breathe fire.

He wanted to grab the little woman in his arms, press her onto his lap, and spank her bottom.

He took a deep breath and began to silently recite in his mind.

"The late emperor passed away before completing his great undertaking, and now the empire is divided into three parts. Yizhou is exhausted and we are truly at a critical juncture of survival..." His voice was very soft, and his lips barely moved.

When he read the lines, "The ministers who guard the palace are diligent in their duties, and the loyal and devoted men forget themselves in their service abroad," he felt as if the volcano inside him had finally retreated from the brink of eruption, the magma had cooled, and the earth's crust had closed up.

His breathing gradually became steady, and his heart rate dropped from 180 to 80.

He didn't know when he fell asleep, but when he was woken up by the alarm clock, He Wanqing was still lying in his arms, breathing heavily, her eyelashes drooping quietly.

He reached out and turned off the alarm clock, then gently patted her back.

"Honey, wake up."

He Wanqing snuggled into his arms, rubbed her face against his chest, and said in a soft, sweet voice with a hint of sleepiness, "Hug me."

Mo Ye got off the bed in slippers, and He Wanqing also sat on the edge of the bed in slippers, the hem of her nightgown hanging above her knees, revealing a section of her fair calves.

Mo Ye walked up to her, bent down, and picked her up in his arms.

He Wanqing wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, clinging to him like a koala.

Mo Ye carried her to the dressing table and had her sit on it.

He took out a comb and hair tie from the drawer and began to style her hair.

His fingers slowly ran through her hair, gathering it at the back of her head, wrapping it around a few times, securing it with a hair tie, and then gently tugging at it with his fingers to make the bun look more natural.

He Wanqing touched her hair and nodded in satisfaction.

She stood up, said, "I'll change my clothes, and then we'll go to the company," and walked to the wardrobe, opening the door.

Mo Ye nodded and began to change his clothes.

Then he saw He Wanqing start changing her clothes right in front of him.

She first took off her nightgown, the purple silk slipping off her shoulders and piling up at her feet, revealing a white, glowing body.

Black lace lingerie covered her full breasts, while matching panties outlined her rounded hips.

She had a slender waist, long legs, and skin that, under the light, resembled the finest mutton fat jade.

Mo Ye's voice was hoarse, like wood sanded smooth by sandpaper: "Why didn't you go to the bathroom to change your clothes?"

He Wanqing took out a bodycon skirt from the closet and put it on while answering in a very light tone: "You've seen it before, haven't you?"

Mo Ye fell silent.

He used to tell her to just change it, but she refused.

He didn't want her to change here today, but she insisted on changing here anyway.

He walked over, raised his hand, and slapped her buttocks lightly, the sound of which was particularly clear in the quiet bedroom.

He Wanqing touched her bottom, turned her head and glared at him, her voice both urgent and embarrassed: "What are you doing!"

Mo Ye looked into her eyes, his voice low and carrying a hint of warning: "Don't you know you're playing with fire?"

He Wanqing looked down at herself—black lace lingerie and matching panties. When his gaze fell on her, it was like an invisible flame.

She quickly brought her legs together, covered her chest with her arms, and said in a hurried and embarrassed voice with a hint of panic, "Don't look."

Mo Ye picked up his shirt, turned around and walked out of the bedroom, putting it on in the hallway.

He leaned against the wall, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled.

When He Wanqing came out dressed neatly, she had already regained her capable and aloof demeanor.

A white shirt was tucked into a black pencil skirt, with a thin leather belt around her waist. Her hair was styled in an updo, revealing the back of her fair neck.

She walked up to Mo Ye, naturally took his arm, pressed her face against his shoulder, and said in a light voice, "Let's go."

Mo Ye nodded, and the two of them walked into the elevator together, went down to the parking lot, and drove to the company.

As soon as Mo Ye entered the office, he sat down at the computer and started working.

His fingers flew across the keyboard, as fast as the wind, the "tap tap tap" sound echoing in the quiet office.

He wants to use all his energy, using work to consume that excess energy.

He Wanqing sat on the chair next to him, resting her chin on her hand, looking at him.

Her gaze fell upon him without any attempt to conceal it.

Mo Ye felt that burning gaze, but instead of looking up, the corners of his mouth curled up.

He spoke as he worked, his voice tinged with amusement and teasing: "What's up, honey?"

He Wanqing rested her chin on her hand, her gaze lingering on his face, her voice filled with an undisguised and frank infatuation: "How can my husband be so handsome?"

A faint smile appeared on Mo Ye's face, a smile like a spring breeze blowing across a lake, rippling out gentle waves.

His voice softened, tinged with a hint of embarrassment at being praised: "Then my wife should take a look around; I'll handle the work."

He Wanqing glanced at the few documents on the table, then at him, nodded, put down her pen, and simply rested her chin on her hand, looking at him...