Mo Yichen had unknowingly followed her, standing outside her room, torn between knocking and entering. Inside, Ruyan was freshening up. After fifteen minutes, she opened the door to call for Marie, only to find him standing there. His head was down, hands tucked into his pockets, his hair falling over his forehead, his onyx eyes closed.
"President Mo," Ruyan called, breaking the silence.
He slowly opened his eyes and met her gaze. For a moment, their eyes locked, and everything around them seemed to freeze.
"How is your injury?" he asked, his voice unusually deep. He can see that there was no bandage and the injury is completely healed.....
Ruyan looked at him, her expression as detached as ever. "Fine," she replied, her tone clipped.
"The person who attacked you has been punished accordingly," he added, trying to keep the conversation going.
"I know," she responded, attempting to move past him. But before she could, he instinctively grabbed her wrist. She froze.
She tried to pull her hand away, but his grip only tightened, his calloused fingers wrapped around her delicate wrist. A sudden, unspoken desire surged within him, the urge to feel her skin more, to hold on.
"My friends wish to meet you," he said, his voice casual. "Keep tomorrow evening free."
She jerked her hand away sharply, freeing herself, and disgust flickered in her eyes. The thought of being touched by him unsettled her, the very idea sending a shiver down her spine.
Her face, still cold and expressionless, grew even icier. "Please maintain a respectful distance, President Mo," she said, her voice carrying a firm edge. With that, she turned and retreated into her room, leaving him standing in the hallway, his emotions tangled in confusion and frustration.
He stared at the closed door, the unsettling feeling of her cold rejection lingering in his chest. For a moment, he wondered if he'd misread the situation, but the disgust in her eyes was unmistakable. It stung in a way he hadn't expected.
Ruyan wasn't like the others, those who smiled and curtsied, those who had learned to play along with his power. She didn't bend to his will or show the slightest interest in him, which made her... different and........ infuriating.
He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. Mo Yichen had never been one to chase, he'd never needed to. But something about her...…her defiance, her strength, drew him in like a magnet he couldn't resist.
Soon, it was time for dinner.
Butler Yang came to call Xia Ruyan downstairs. She simply nodded. "I'll join in a moment," she said quietly.
The dining room was dimly lit in soft golden hues, the long table already occupied. Madam Ye and Miss Ye were still present, while the rest of the guests had taken their leave. Master Mo Zhenyu, however, was absent.
When Xia Ruyan entered, everyone had already taken their places. Ye Yutong was seated beside Yichen, flashing a sweet but insincere smile at Ruyan, a smile sharpened like a hidden dagger. Ruyan, as always, gave no reaction. She silently took the seat next to Grandfather Mo, directly across from Mo Yichen.
Yutong frowned, her carefully rehearsed expressions wasted on a woman who wouldn't even glance her way.
Yichen's gaze, however, was fixed entirely on Ruyan. By now, he had grown accustomed to watching her in silence. Tonight, her eyes, usually calm and distant, had a subtle redness around the rims. Just like the day she had married him.
She's angry, he realized. But it wasn't the kind of anger that exploded; it was the quiet kind, the kind that burned slowly and froze everything around it. Marie served her a Buddha bowl.... simple, balanced, and beautiful. Alongside it, a steaming cup of chamomile tea.
So, she was trying to calm herself. He thought
Yichen continued to observe. She looked untouched by the lavish surroundings, almost too poised for this family. Her movements were elegant, yet detached...like a porcelain doll at a dinner party.
Then he noticed it.
Her wrist. It was red. Scrubbed hard. Because he had touched her.
Something churned in his chest...not anger, not guilt… something sour. Something unfamiliar.
Her cold calmness irritated almost everyone else at the table. She didn't speak, didn't fidget, didn't try to fit in. She simply ate in silence, upright and graceful, as if dining alone in a room full of shadows.
Yutong, having failed to provoke a response, shifted strategies. She picked up a small meatball and gently placed it into Yichen's bowl before turning to Madam Mo. With a sweet smile, she picked up some steamed vegetables and added them to the older woman's plate.
"Aunt," she said gently, "you should avoid carbs at night. They're harder to digest."
Madam Mo beamed with delight. "Tongtong knows me best," she replied in a tone dripping with affection. Then she glanced sharply at Ruyan, searching for a reaction: jealousy, discomfort, anything.
But Ruyan remained unbothered, taking small, composed bites of her meal. Her back was straight, her face serene, as though she were untouched by the scene unfolding around her. That calmness only seemed to irritate Madam Mo more.
Suddenly, Mo Yize, busy devouring his food like a whirlwind, peeled a shrimp and placed it on Grandfather Mo's plate, grinning widely. The old man grunted in mock annoyance but still ate it, a rare twinkle appearing in his usually stern eyes.
Ruyan, watching quietly, froze for a moment. Her eyes softened just a flicker and then drifted into memory.
A pair of long, veiny hands. Clean, gentle hands peeling shrimp for her. "Learn to do it yourself," someone said, while still placing the juicy piece on her plate. They had sat by the kitchen window, the roses outside in full bloom, the moon hanging low in the sky. The air had smelled of petals. She had taken a bite, her cheeks puffing like a balloon, and someone laughed, warm and golden, like sunlight on morning dew. Her face was gently rubbed clean, like she was the most precious thing in the world.
Since that night... she had never eaten shrimp again.
And she never would.
Marie had quietly left to prepare a dessert, sensing her mistress was not in the best mood. Just then, as Ruyan returned to the present, Ye Yutong placed a piece of meat in her bowl. The atmosphere stiffened. Both Grandfather Mo and Mo Yichen froze.
Ruyan looked directly at Yutong.
"Eat more, Miss Xia," Yutong said sweetly, her voice wrapped in sugar and venom. "No one seemed to be serving you. It takes time to adjust to the family, especially when you're unfamiliar with everyone." The words carried a clear message: You don't belong here.
The statement hung in the air. Ruyan didn't blink. Her expression remained as neutral as before.
Then, softly and clearly, she spoke: "Marie."
As if summoned by magic, Marie appeared instantly from the kitchen, hurrying toward her. One would wonder how she'd even heard her name from so far.
Ruyan didn't look away from Yutong as she said, "Please clear it."
The silence around the table thickened. Ruyan composedly returned to her tea, while Yutong's smile faltered. Mo Yichen lowered his eyes, hiding something close to a smirk. And for the first time that evening, Grandfather Mo chuckled under his breath.
The sharp clink of porcelain echoed in the tense air as Marie quietly took the bowl from before Ruyan, not daring to meet anyone's eyes. Ye Yutong's forced smile trembled. Her pride, wrapped delicately in sweet gestures, had just been shattered in front of everyone.
"I…" Her voice broke, too fragile for the storm that brewed behind her eyes. "I was just trying to be nice. I didn't mean to offend…"
Her voice trailed off, replaced by a choked sob. The tears she had been holding in spilled, dramatic and glistening. "I just...I thought maybe we could get along…"
Ruyan didn't look up.
Madam Mo's face darkened. "Xia Ruyan," she said with restrained ire, "Yutong's gesture was pure. You've embarrassed her. Surely there was no need to go that far. There was no need to reject her goodwill in such a… public manner."
Ruyan did not lift her gaze. She sipped her tea with elegance, her voice calm as she replied, "Public?" she repeated softly. "I was under the impression this was a private family setting, Madam Mo."
The room fell silent. Everyone stared at her in shock. Shouldn't she have addressed her as "Mother" or something akin to it, given her position as the daughter-in-law? Madam Mo, too, was rendered speechless. This young girl, this bold and unbothered woman, was speaking back to her.
Ruyan finally raised her eyes, her expression the epitome of tranquility, as if nothing had fazed her. "She used food to mark territory," she said, her words direct and unflinching. A heavy silence descended on the table.
Madam Mo blinked in disbelief. "Excuse me?"
Xia Ruyan's voice, as smooth as frost on glass, cut through the air. "Dogs do that."
Ye Yutong gasped, her face losing all color. A pin could have dropped, and the sound would have echoed.
"You… How dare you...!!" Madam Ye stumbled over her words, unable to fully articulate her outrage at the insult directed at her daughter.
"I didn't name anyone," Ruyan interjected, her tone crisp and precise. "But if the shoe fits…"
"Ruyan!" Madam Mo snapped. "You are a guest in this house—"
"I am related to him. At least, on paper." Ruyan replies, her voice wrapped in velvet yet as sharp as a blade. Her gaze drifted toward Mo Yichen, who had remained silent throughout, his unreadable eyes locked on Ruyan. Then, her attention returned to Madam Mo.
Yutong's breath hitched, her voice trembling as she turned toward Yichen. "Brother Yichen… Are you going to let her speak to me like this?"
Mo Yichen didn't move, his gaze still fixed on Ruyan. There was something in his eyes, something unspoken, that made Yutong's heart race.
Madam Mo rose abruptly from her seat, her voice quivering with barely contained fury. "You've gone too far, Xia Ruyan. A young woman shows kindness, and you humiliate her in front of the entire family?"
"I don't respond to manipulation disguised as kindness," she said, her voice even and unwavering, her calmness more chilling than any outburst of anger.
Madam Mo stiffened, her voice rising. "You think you're so untouchable just because you married into this family? Do you expect everyone to bow to your cold, arrogant presence?"
"I've never asked anyone to bow," Ruyan replied, her gaze as unyielding as ever. "But I won't kneel to theatrics."
Madam Mo inhaled sharply, her eyes flashing with barely-contained anger. She took a step forward, her voice lowering but carrying a threat. "If you continue to behave so high-handedly, don't expect this family to embrace you."
Ruyan met her gaze head-on, her voice calm, each word carefully enunciated. "I'm not here to compete in childish games. If kindness must come with conditions, I'd rather go without."
Across the table, Mo Yichen's grip on his chopsticks tightened, his knuckles going white.
Grandfather Mo gave a low grunt, his irritation palpable. "Let the girl eat in peace," he muttered, stabbing at a shrimp on his plate. "Some people cry too much for someone who's never been wronged."
He shot an irritated glance toward Ye Yutong, who, unable to bear the tension, fled from the table. Mo Yiran followed her, throwing Ruyan a glare that she didn't even acknowledge.
Grandfather Mo sighed, shaking his head. "Didn't I tell you this girl is mysophobic? Why stir up drama in front of outsiders?" Madam Mo lowered her head in shame, her face flushed.
Marie entered quietly, carrying a delicate dessert, osmanthus jelly in a crystal bowl. She placed it gently in front of Ruyan, offering her a warm glance and a respectful bow before stepping away.
Ruyan picked up her spoon and resumed eating, her face unreadable, her composure unshaken.
The room had spoken. And she had never needed to raise her voice to be heard.