Wen Ran didn't insist any further. She took Qin Mu's jacket, put it on, and continued walking forward. When she reached two-thirds of the way up the steps, she turned right, passing by rows of tombstones until she arrived in front of her parents' graves.
Qin Mu stopped a few steps behind, turning slightly to the side, his gaze lowered.
Wen Ran carefully took the sweet and sour ribs out of the lunchbox and placed them in front of the tombstone. Suppressing the waves of sorrow surging in her heart, she forced a cheerful tone and said, "Dad, Mom, look what I've brought you."
Kneeling in front of the tombstone, her eyes met the loving smiles of her parents' engraved portraits. It felt just like the old days—sitting at home, chatting with them.
"Dad, Mom, I made these sweet and sour ribs myself. Surprised? You must be! Back at home, Mom always did the cooking, and sometimes Dad and my brother would help. I never really had a chance to show off my skills. But today, I found out that I might just be a culinary genius!"
"I'm telling you, it only took me two hours to learn how to make this dish… I've decided that from now on, I'll learn to cook a new dish every day until I master all your favorites. Dad, Mom, you have to bless my brother and help him wake up soon…"
Her soft words drifted through the quiet night, carried by the wind to Qin Mu's ears. His dark, inky eyes flickered with a trace of surprise, and he turned to look at her.
The night was too dark to make out her face. All he could see was a slender, blurry silhouette kneeling before the tombstone. Yet, he could feel the sorrow and pain hidden beneath her lighthearted words.
His gaze swept over the sweet and sour ribs in front of her. From the smell, they seemed well-made. He hadn't expected that she had cooked them herself.
Back when Mo Xiuchen had asked him to investigate Wen Ran, the reports described her as a delicate young woman, pampered by her family like a precious jewel—someone who had never even lifted a finger in the kitchen.
But now, he had to admit—she wasn't what he had first imagined.
While Mo Xiuchen's support was crucial in keeping Wen Corporation running, it was clear that Wen Ran wasn't entirely incapable. When Zhou Mingfu had incited his subordinates to take collective leave, she had used MS as leverage to suppress him—proof that she was indeed intelligent.
That afternoon, he had attended a high-level meeting she led. Dressed in a sharp business suit, she carried an air of elegance and composure, exuding a noble and cool demeanor.
Yet now, she gave off a different impression—one of feigned strength, suppressing her grief with a forced smile. Qin Mu stared at her for a moment, then furrowed his brows slightly and looked away.
Wen Ran talked to her parents for over ten minutes, telling them about her brother, the company, and their lives. She promised that next time, she would visit with her brother.
When she finally stood up, her legs—numb from kneeling—gave out slightly, making her stumble. She quickly reached out to steady herself against the tombstone.
A few steps away, Qin Mu's expression flickered, his tall frame standing still. But in the end, he didn't step forward to help.
As Wen Ran walked back toward him, he noticed the redness in her eyes and couldn't help but ask, "Are you okay?"
She shook her head, forcing a weak smile. "I'm fine. Sorry for keeping you waiting."
On the way back, Qin Mu focused on driving. Wen Ran sat slightly turned toward the window, gazing quietly outside, lost in thought.
Only when they were close to home did she gather her thoughts and turn to him. "Don't tell Mo Xiuchen that I've been learning how to cook."
The cemetery had been so quiet earlier—she was sure he had overheard parts of her conversation.
Qin Mu was sharp-witted. Hearing her request, he immediately understood what she meant. He simply responded with a quiet "Mm," but inwardly, he doubted she could hide it from Mo Xiuchen.
That man was extremely perceptive and had an uncanny sense of smell. Even after Wen Ran had been at Li Qian's house all evening, then visited the cemetery, some trace of the kitchen would still linger on her.
And he was right.
The moment Wen Ran stepped into the house, Mo Xiuchen picked up on a particular scent lingering on her. A glimmer of light flashed in his deep eyes as he asked gently, "Have you had dinner? Do you want Aunt Zhang to make you something?"
Wen Ran smiled at him and said she had already eaten.
"How did you run into Qin Mu?"
Mo Xiuchen gestured for her to head upstairs, and they ascended together as he casually asked.
"I met him at Sister Li's house—he was giving her husband a ride home."
Wen Ran hesitated slightly before turning to him, explaining, "When you called this afternoon, Sister Li and I had just come out of the supermarket. That's when we ran into Mo Zixuan."
She remembered that when Mo Zixuan called out to her, the phone call with Mo Xiuchen hadn't ended yet. But in just two seconds, when she checked again, the call had already been disconnected.
Although there was nothing between her and Mo Zixuan, she still didn't want Mo Xiuchen to misunderstand. After some thought, she decided it was best to clarify things.
A flicker of surprise crossed Mo Xiuchen's gaze—clearly, he hadn't expected her to bring it up on her own. He had indeed heard Mo Zixuan's voice and hung up the call because of it.
In fact, Qin Mu's presence at Li Qian's house hadn't been a coincidence either…
Seeing him staring at her, Wen Ran thought he was doubtful. She pressed her lips together, about to explain further, but before she could, Mo Xiuchen smiled and said nonchalantly, "I trust that nothing happened between you and Mo Zixuan. Even if you run into him, you don't have to report it to me."
Wen Ran's brows relaxed, and a genuine smile appeared on her face. Her voice carried a hint of relief. "As long as you believe me."
Her smile reflected in Mo Xiuchen's deep gaze, stirring a faint warmth in his heart. The corners of his lips curved slightly wider.
That night, just like the previous one, Wen Ran fell asleep in Mo Xiuchen's arms. At first, her heartbeat was slightly erratic, but gradually, she felt at ease and drifted into a peaceful slumber.
Not only did she sleep soundly, but for the past two nights, Mo Xiuchen had also experienced the best sleep he had had in a long time.
The next day, Wen Ran learned two more dishes from Sister Li—both of Mo Xiuchen's favorite home-cooked meals: braised lion's head meatballs and pickled fish.
She originally planned to cook them for him on Saturday at noon. But that morning, when he was about to leave for work, she asked, "Will you be home for lunch?"
Mo Xiuchen turned to her, his deep eyes meeting her clear gaze. After a brief thought, he answered warmly, "I'll try my best."
Wen Ran didn't cook many dishes—just three—but they were all Mo Xiuchen's favorites. She insisted on making everything herself, even politely refusing Aunt Zhang's help.
Standing nearby, Aunt Zhang watched her busying about with a face full of smiles. She sighed with emotion, saying, "If Madam were still here to see Young Master marry such a kind and virtuous wife, she would be overjoyed."
Wen Ran flipped the fish in the pan and turned to Aunt Zhang, her voice soft. "Aunt Zhang, how did Mo Xiuchen's mother pass away?"
At her words, Aunt Zhang's smile faded, replaced by a somber expression. Her voice became slightly stiff as she said, "Madam jumped to her death on Young Master's eighth birthday."
"On his birthday?"
Wen Ran was stunned, her eyes widening in shock.