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

Warm breath blew unhindered onto my most sensitive ear, and a deep, amused "Wife" was uttered.

It's like a pebble thrown into a still lake, creating ripples upon ripples.

"!" He Wanqing shuddered, as if struck by a weak electric current, and was suddenly jolted awake from her semi-conscious state.

Her ears turned redder at a visible speed, and the burning heat quickly spread to her cheeks.

She instinctively shrank her neck, hurriedly lowered her head, and casually raised her hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Trying to hide the burning embarrassment, her voice feigned calmness, yet carried a barely perceptible tremor:

"I... I'm studying very hard. And you... don't shout like that."

Mo Ye looked at her, trying to remain calm but her neck was flushed pink.

A low, pleasant chuckle escaped his throat, but his arms tightened their grip on her, his voice carrying a matter-of-fact teasing tone:

"How is this just random shouting? You're my legal wife, licensed and protected by law."

He Wanqing's ears burned even hotter at his blunt words, and she felt both ashamed and annoyed, yet also stirred by a strange sweetness.

She turned her face away, staring at the mango in her hand, trying her best to remain calm, but her slightly trembling voice and flushed cheeks betrayed her:

"You...you be careful, Tongtong is still here." These words had no deterrent effect whatsoever; instead, they sounded more like a coquettish attempt to cover up the truth.

Mo Ye knew when to stop, realizing that if he continued teasing the thin-skinned Mr. He, he might "explode."

He chuckled softly, said nothing more, and simply held her hand as he finished cutting the last mango.

Fingertips touched, temperatures mingled, and a silent, ambiguous feeling flowed quietly amidst the sweet aroma of fruit.

Just then, Tongtong, who had been engrossed in her "work," suddenly raised her little head.

She looked at her parents' backs, which were very close together, and it seemed that her father was hugging her mother from behind.

The little guy blinked his big, dark grape-like eyes, a hint of doubt flashing across his face, which was then replaced by an excited "I understand" feeling.

She put down the peeled pomelo segments she was holding, slid off the small stool, and ran to their legs.

She stretched out her chubby little hand and precisely grabbed Mo Ye's trouser leg, tilted her little face up, and made a request in her childish voice, which also carried a hint of grievance at being "ignored":

"Daddy~ Tongtong wants a hug too!"

The two, immersed in the subtle atmosphere, froze simultaneously.

As if burned, He Wanqing immediately broke free from Mo Ye's embrace, her face still flushed, adding to her embarrassment at being caught red-handed.

She coughed lightly and turned to prepare the already cut mango pieces, her movements deliberately composed, but the slight trembling of her fingertips betrayed her inner turmoil.

Mo Ye was also a little embarrassed. He touched his nose, bent down and picked up his daughter who was pouting.

Tongtong immediately clung to her father like a little koala who had found a tree trunk, using both hands and feet to grab him, burying her little head contentedly in his neck, and even rubbing against him defiantly.

Then she turned to look at her mother, who was "pretending to be busy," and pouted, with a hint of smugness and a tone of "revealing the truth":

"Mommy's so clumsy, she needs Daddy to hold her and teach her how to cut fruit!"

He Wanqing was putting mango chunks into a glass bowl when she heard this, and her hand trembled, almost knocking the bowl over.

She pursed her red lips, turned around and glared at her daughter, her heart filled with a mixture of embarrassment and inexplicable frustration at being caught in the act.

What does a little brat know!

She...she's not stupid!

She just... liked that feeling of being surrounded by him from behind, being carefully guided, with a touch of sneakiness... cough cough, it was an unspoken, ambiguous feeling.

However, her daughter's "interference" seemed to have aroused a strange competitive spirit in He Wanqing.

She took a deep breath, steadied herself, stopped looking at the clingy father and daughter, and turned to pick up a mango and a fruit knife again.

This time, her movements were no longer hesitant or clumsy; her eyes were focused, her wrist steady, and her cuts swift and decisive.

Although not as fluid and graceful as Mo Ye's, she still peeled the mango cleanly and neatly, and then skillfully cut it into neat squares.

She even took it seriously, almost defiantly, by going to the sink after each mango cut and carefully rinsing her fingers and the knife blade.

Mo Ye held Tongtong and watched from the side, his smile growing deeper.

This seemingly aloof but surprisingly childlike darling is truly... adorable enough to melt your heart.

Mo Ye and Tong Tong took over the task of peeling the pomelo segments.

The little guy was initially very enthusiastic, carefully separating the glistening grapefruit segments one by one, and occasionally sneaking a small pinch into his mouth when his dad wasn't looking.

When she took her first bite, a satisfied smile spread across her face (￣～￣).

Chewing with gusto, cheeks puffed out, he was secretly calculating his next move:

Hmm, you have to break them slowly, otherwise if you eat them quickly, there won't be any left to sneak a bite.

But a child's concentration is like a summer shower—it comes quickly and goes just as fast.

Before long, the repetitive work and her gradually full belly made her feel bored.

She lay listlessly by the kitchen counter, her little head nodding, her big eyes starting to mist, like a seedling wilted by the sun.

Seeing her like this, Mo Ye couldn't help but chuckle, and gently tapped the tip of her nose with his juice-stained finger:

"Tongtong, are you tired? Go rest on the sofa over there and cheer Daddy up."

Tongtong felt like she had been granted a pardon and immediately regained some energy. She toddled over to the sofa not far away and found the best spot to sit down.

She wasn't just resting; she quickly switched into "passionate commentary" mode.

Whenever Mo Ye deftly peels a large, whole piece of pomelo, or cuts a mango into even pieces, she raises her little fist and shouts in her sweet, childish voice:

"Daddy's awesome! 666!"

The little body swayed back and forth to the rhythm, shaking its head, showing its wholehearted admiration.

The annoyance that Mo Ye felt from the trivial tasks instantly vanished, replaced by a warm and sweet feeling that filled his heart.

The first batch of simplified mango pomelo sago was freshly made. Mo Ye specially filled a small bowl with it, sprinkled a few peeled red pomelo segments on top, and handed it to his "chief taster":

"Tongtong, help Daddy taste it and see how it is?"

Tongtong's eyes lit up, and she took the bowl of tempting dessert with both hands.

She looked down at the bowl in her chubby little hands, then looked up at her father who was still busy peeling pomelos, and then turned to look at her mother who was carefully cutting mango chunks.

His small brows furrowed slightly, as if he were pondering a significant question.

She then made a decision.

She carefully scooped up a spoonful.

The spoon contained mango, sago, and glistening pomelo pieces. Holding the small bowl, she walked steadily toward Mo Ye first.

"Daddy," she said, standing on tiptoe and trying to hold the spoon high, her little voice clear and earnest.

"Dad works the hardest, so Dad should eat first. Dad will give you some~"

..........