Chapter 26— The Mysterious No.1 Benefactor
On the return flight, Mo Tingjue was still there.
He knew Wen Zhi was avoiding him, but some things… he had to say.
She was seated in the back cabin. He could only wait.
Once the plane landed in Jiangcheng and passengers began disembarking, Mo Tingjue stood by the exit. The moment Wen Zhi appeared, he stepped forward, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her to the side wall with the strength advantage he never hesitated to use.
Wen Zhi yanked her hand back.
"What are you doing?!"
Mo Tingjue blocked her path, lowering his voice.
"Xiao Zhi, if you really don't want me following you every day, then give me five minutes. Please."
She stared at him coldly.
Seeing she wasn't walking away, he rushed out,
"That necklace — who gave it to you? Is there really some rich second-gen chasing you?"
Wen Zhi let out a soft, mocking laugh.
"And if there is? What does it have to do with you?"
"Xiao Zhi, don't like him, okay? There are things I didn't want to mention, but I can't lose you. I won't. Do you remember? When you were little, someone splashed chili water in your eyes — I was the one who saved you."
Even now, mentioning that incident made him feel a twist of guilt. But to get her back, he would risk it. After all, the truth from back then… would never actually be revealed.
Wen Zhi pushed him off, her voice sharp and steady.
"Mo Tingjue, don't use your 'kindness' to bind me. Yes, you helped me back then. I was grateful — that's why, out of all my admirers, I gave you the chance. But you sleeping with that abuser is also true. You betrayed me. Why should I forgive you? I won't. Not now. Not ever in this lifetime."
With that, she didn't waste another breath on him.
She walked away decisively, leaving Mo Tingjue staring after her, heart tight with frustration.
Who?
Who on earth could've won Wen Zhi's heart so quickly that she became this cold to him?
He would find that bastard.
And make sure Wen Zhi came back to him.
He was fuming when a low, mocking laugh sounded behind him.
He spun around and found Mo Tingyan strolling over, eyes filled with disdain.
"What are you laughing at?" Mo Tingjue snapped.
Mo Tingyan didn't bother hiding his contempt.
"Just imagining your high-and-mighty mother's face when she finds out her precious son begged a woman for forgiveness like a stray dog… That scene must be exquisite."
Mo Tingjue's face darkened.
"Shut up. No wonder my mom said you're an ungrateful bastard. She was right—"
Then he suddenly remembered something.
"You and Wen Zhi work at the same place. Mo Tingyan, I'm warning you — Wen Zhi is mine. Stay away from her. A woman like her would never choose a discarded bastard like you."
But Mo Tingyan didn't get angry.
Instead, he sneered, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Oh? You're that confident?"
He strode past lazily, leaving Mo Tingjue clenching his fists tight.
He would not lose to that unwanted mutt.
Wen Zhi rushed home and immediately set up her livestream equipment.
Mo Tingyan followed her in, slipping an arm around her waist from behind. His lips, warm and impatient, trailed along her neck.
"Let's go to the bedroom…" he murmured against her skin.
Wen Zhi inhaled sharply — his teasing always scrambled her thoughts — but she pushed free before she lost herself.
"Mo Tingyan, don't start. I'm streaming tonight."
Like hell he'd give up so easily.
He leaned forward, pecked her nose, tone spoiled and coaxing,
"We'll be quick. After we 'go for a drive,' you can stream all you want."
"No." She rejected instantly.
"My followers and income dropped these past few days. Even if I don't earn much, now that we have a mortgage, every bit counts. Go sit quietly outside."
Before he could argue, she marched around him, shoved him out, and locked the door — a precaution specifically against the previous time he barged in mid-stream.
Mo Tingyan: "…"
Left alone, he sauntered to the sofa, pulled out his phone, and anonymously entered Wen Zhi's livestream.
His gaze shifted, and he opened the gift interface.
An hour and a half later, her door burst open.
Mo Tingyan was watching TV when Wen Zhi ran up and plopped beside him, barely containing her excitement.
"Tingyan! I struck gold tonight! A No.1 benefactor came in and gifted a hundred Carnivals! I calculated — I'll get about 100,000 yuan!"
Mo Tingyan examined her expression.
"A hundred Carnivals is that expensive? And you only get ten thousand?"
"Ten thousand for a small streamer like me is already insane! I'm happy with it."
Her bright mood softened the angles of Mo Tingyan's expression. He looked at her lazily.
"You don't even show your face. Why would he tip you that much? Didn't he make any weird requests?"
"He did, but nothing perverse. He just wanted me to read in a loli voice for five minutes."
"And you did?"
"Of course. That's normal. I read for fans all the time. Besides, he's my money daddy tonight."
Ten thousand yuan — basically her yearly salary.
Mo Tingyan: "…"
Money daddy.
That title hit a little too hard.
"So what if he gave you even more and asked for something actually perverse?" he asked casually. "Like this—"
His arm slid naturally around her shoulders and he pulled her onto his thigh, lowering his head to catch her lips and deepen the kiss, tasting her as he teased her tongue—
Wen Zhi pushed at his shoulder, breathless.
He hadn't even showered, the menace.
She jumped to her feet and shot him an annoyed look.
"Not everyone is shameless like you! I'm going to shower and sleep. Stop causing trouble."
She slipped back into her room.
Mo Tingyan leaned back with a chuckle. The moment he thought he could feast, she flew away.
When her stream was struggling — no food for him.
When her stream exploded — still no food.
That No.1 benefactor… truly pitiful.
After washing up, Wen Zhi came out refreshed and saw her notification light blinking. She walked over lightheartedly and tapped open the message.
The moment she saw it — her expression went from soft to ice cold.
It was a photo from Chief Attendant Xu.
A candid shot.
A shot of her and Mo Tingyan in the stairwell.
Bodies close.
Breath mingled.
Intimate.
Caught in the most compromising moment.