"Who would help her?"
Warmth flickered through Wen Ran's watery eyes as she absorbed the shock. Thoughts raced through her mind before she blurted out, "Could she have bribed one of the Mo family's servants…? No way, it couldn't be Xiao Wenqing, right?"
For Cheng Jia, an outsider, to succeed, she had to have help from within the Mo household. But Wen Ran didn't want to believe that Xiao Wenqing was the one assisting her. She would rather think it was just a bribed servant.
"She used to work at Nanqin Hotel, and before Mo Zixuan took over, it was entirely under Xiao Wenqing's control," Mo Xiuchen said in a deep voice, laced with a chilling undertone.
Wen Ran's expression shifted slightly. "So, you're saying Xiao Wenqing helped Cheng Jia drug both your meals? But she knows you can't… Why would she still do that?"
She hesitated for a second when mentioning his supposed "condition," skipping over the explicit words. The anger that had drained the blush from her cheeks returned in full force. If Xiao Wenqing was truly behind this, she had gone too far.
To be honest, Wen Ran never liked that woman. From the beginning, she found Xiao Wenqing to be fake and opportunistic. That was why, even though Mo Zixuan had pursued her for a whole year, she never accepted his advances.
If she had known things would turn out this way, she wouldn't have let a moment of soft-heartedness make her accept Mo Zixuan's confession back then.
Mo Xiuchen's lips curled into a cold smile. He withdrew his hand from her shoulder, sat upright, and said icily, "Ever since I married you, Xiao Wenqing has refused to believe that I really have an illness."
Wen Ran frowned, observing the frost settling over his chiseled face. She had noticed it tonight—Mo Xiuchen was incredibly indifferent to Xiao Wenqing. No, more than that—he held a deep-seated hatred for her.
She didn't know why, but seeing him like this made something in her chest tighten involuntarily. A strange emotion, something akin to pity and heartache, welled up inside her.
"Mo Xiuchen," she called out impulsively.
He turned his head toward her, his dark, fathomless eyes locking onto hers.
She bit her lip lightly before softly asking, "Did your mother leave because of Xiao Wenqing?"
Mo Xiuchen's expression instantly froze.
His entire body seemed to tense up at her words. His deep eyes filled with an icy, resentful glint, and the temperature in the car seemed to plummet. Wen Ran shivered slightly, unable to withstand the sudden chill.
His thin lips pressed into a firm line. Memories buried in the depths of his mind resurfaced, and his handsome face turned pale.
That memory was something he never wanted to relive, much less speak about.
A heavy silence filled the air.
Wen Ran regretted asking the question the moment it left her lips. She hadn't intended to reopen old wounds; she had simply wanted to show concern.
Her gaze fell upon his clenched fist, the knuckles faintly turning white. On an impulse, she reached out and gently held his hand, murmuring apologetically, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. Forget I said anything… Let's go home."
The unexpected warmth seeped into his skin. Mo Xiuchen's rigid body stiffened slightly before a flicker of warmth broke through the layers of ice in his eyes. The cold aura surrounding him ebbed away like a receding tide.
His lips parted slightly, and his deep voice, though calm, carried a faint detachment—like he was telling someone else's story.
"When I was eight, my mother found out that my father had not only been unfaithful but had a son with another woman. Unable to bear the blow, she jumped from a building and took her own life."
Wen Ran's hands tightened around his as if trying to transfer warmth to him.
She knew that beneath his seemingly composed tone, there lay immeasurable pain and sorrow. At the time of his mother's death, he had been just a child—only eight years old.
Aunt Zhang once told her that before his kidnapping, Mo Xiuchen had been trapped in the grief of losing his mother. It was only after experiencing life and death that he learned to become strong.
A wave of heartache washed over her. She instinctively gripped his hand even tighter.
Mo Xiuchen's once icy eyes gradually softened. He curled his lips faintly and reassured her, "Don't worry, I won't let past tragedies affect me anymore."
He patted the back of her hand lightly. This moment—her warmth, her presence—it reminded him of something from long ago. It was just like the time when he had been trapped in that dark place, accompanied only by that little girl.
"Are you still planning to visit the cemetery tonight?" Wen Ran asked softly.
Watching him suppress his emotions, acting as if he were unaffected, she suddenly wished she could travel back in time—to be there for him during his most vulnerable, most lonely moments.
Mo Xiuchen shook his head. "Not tonight. I'll take you there another day."
He paused briefly, then looked at her directly. "I've explained everything. Are you still mad at me?"
Wen Ran's eyes flickered. She turned her face away, avoiding his gaze. "I was never mad at you."
Mo Xiuchen chuckled. He leaned toward her, causing her to jolt in surprise. She turned back hastily, eyeing him warily. "What are you doing?"
"Helping you with your seatbelt."
Mo Xiuchen pressed a steadying hand on her shoulder while pulling the seatbelt across her body. His voice was low and gentle. "Next time you're upset, don't turn off your phone. If something's wrong, just ask me directly."
"I wasn't upset," Wen Ran insisted, frowning.
Mo Xiuchen smiled. "I knew in advance what Cheng Jia was planning tonight. The drug she used wouldn't have any effect on me—but you're different. If you had been the one drugged tonight, I wouldn't have just thrown you into a tub of cold water."
Wen Ran blinked, staring at him in shock. His words replayed in her mind.
If she had been the one drugged, he wouldn't have left her in cold water…
Then what would he have done? Would he have found an antidote for her?
Her thoughts ran wild. She quickly shook her head, forcing those ideas out. She was his wife, after all. There was no way he would let another man…
Suddenly, she turned to look at Mo Xiuchen. The soft glow of the dashboard lights cast shadows across his sharp, defined features. Her gaze lingered on his lips.
Recalling that domineering kiss from earlier, her heart fluttered violently. She hurriedly turned her face away, pretending to look out the window.
Mo Xiuchen kept his eyes on the road, but he had already caught her actions in the rearview mirror. She had been staring at his lips, her cheeks turning red before she looked away in a panic.
He reached up with a finger, brushing against his lips. He could still taste the remnants of their kiss.
Damn it.
He regretted telling Wen Ran that the drug had no effect on him.
If he had kept quiet, maybe… just maybe… he could have taken advantage of the situation to claim a little more from her.