Xia Ruyan leaned on the terrace railing. The wind danced with her hair, strands falling across her face. She gazed outward. The terrace garden was neat, with a few chairs and tables scattered around. The sky above was a soft, shifting blue. As the wind picked up, fluffy clouds drifted lazily across.
She leaned her head back to look up, her long, graceful neck stretched, flawless and untouched by the dust of the world. Smooth as jade.
That's what Mo Yichen thought, watching her from the other side.
He had come up for a smoke. No one usually came here; it was an unwritten rule that this was his personal space. Sometimes he brought friends here to drink or talk. But mostly, it was his solitude.
He stood there, staring. She hadn't noticed him.
Something in him burned. An urge. An intense, irrational need to claim.
Claim. To what? What was this urge?
His eyes narrowed. She turned slightly, just a small tilt of her head, and he saw the lines of her neck.
He couldn't look away. He wanted to move. To touch her. Would her pulse beat hot beneath his palm? Would it feel like...
No.
Stop it, Mo Yichen. He stopped himself. What the hell was he doing? Why was he having these thoughts… for Xia Ruyan?
He coughed lightly. "Secretary Xia," he called out. "What are you doing here?"
"Just needed some air," she replied and moved to leave.
"You can stay," he said, walking to the nearest chair. "Come." She hesitated, then sat down quietly.
"Let Lee handle things. Or let me know if the workload is too much," he offered. She nodded. There was no point in arguing.
"Also… my father and mother want to meet you," he added. She looked up at him. "They wanted to apologize," he said.
"For?" she asked.
"For how my mother behaved. For creating a scene. For asking me to…"
"There's no need to apologize," she interrupted.
"No, she—"
"President Mo," she said flatly. "She won't apologize because she wants to. She'll do it because your grandfather punished her."
Mo Yichen couldn't deny it. He knew his mother well. She was ready to compromise for two reasons: first, because his father had been giving her the cold shoulder. Second, because rumors were spreading that Grandfather Mo had thrown her out of the house. And his mother valued her reputation more than anything.
"I know," he said quietly. "But when it comes to family, there's always… leverage."
She heard the melancholy in his voice. And strangely, she could relate. After all, she, too, had once surrendered for family.
"Family..." she repeated softly. The sorrow in her voice was unmistakable.
"By the way, is your father still investigating the case?" he asked. His own team had been working on it, but they found no leads, as if the incident had never happened. If not for the pink scars on her wrist, the slight hoarseness in her voice, he might've doubted it himself. It was too clean. Too calculated.
"Zhen Yu is handling it," she replied.
"The guy from the hospital?" he asked, his tone turning sour. That guy was too close to her. She even let him cut apples for her…
Was he... sulking? Why the hell was he sulking?
"Yes. He's a friend," she said, and after a pause, added softly, "A good friend." Her voice changed, softened as if she had just remembered something precious.
"Yeah, I saw that," Mo Yichen muttered. "He's a close and good friend." He gritted his teeth. He didn't know why he was getting angry. What was this sour, biting feeling?
Before she could say anything, he stood up. If he stayed even a second longer, he might say something reckless. Something that couldn't be taken back.
Right on cue, his phone rang. Han Ziqi.
"Brother Mo! Come out tonight. It's been a whole damn month since we saw your face."
"I'm busy."
"You're always busy. No skipping this one, it's my birthday. Small party. Ninth Lounge."
Mo Yichen sighed. Maybe he did need the distraction. The last two weeks had been… a lot. He walked off in silence. Behind him, Xia Ruyan remained in the courtyard, still and unreadable.
By the time he arrived at The Ninth Lounge, the private VIP room was already packed. As soon as he walked in, the atmosphere shifted, the laughter dimmed, and conversations hushed. People straightened their backs, unsure if they were standing before royalty or a storm.
Only Han Ziqi and Bo Qinghai remained unbothered. "Brother, you're really here!" Han Ziqi hooted, raising his drink.
Mo Yichen ignored him, walked straight in, and poured himself a drink. "You've been ghosting us for weeks," Ziqi continued. "Not even a single text. What's going on with you?"
"Heard you even activated The Eclipse," Bo Qinghai added, watching him carefully.
"Mn." That was all he gave them. No need for explanations. He could handle his affairs.
The door opened again. Ye Shu, with his sister and girlfriend, walked in, all grins, glitters, and perfume. Mo Yichen's aura plummeted several degrees. The tension was ice.
"You invited them?" he asked, turning to Han Ziqi, his voice calm but dangerous. Ziqi scratched the back of his neck. "What? You guys are friends, right? I figured… the more, the merrier?"
Mo Yichen downed his entire glass in one go. He should've stayed home. His mood plummeted, elegance turned static, warmth turned cold. He regretted coming tonight.