As the Mo family was leaving, Yu Heng came in hurriedly. He didn't offer any courtesy to the Mos and moved directly toward Xia Jingxuan. He leaned close and whispered something in her ear, and her face turned hard.
"Who informed him?" she questioned.
Mo Yichen observed everything keenly.
"There is no need to activate everyone. We will wait until A Yan is fine," she said solemnly, leaving no room for doubt.
The next day was much the same. Mo Yichen arrived in the morning to visit her at the hospital. She was sitting up on her bed, reading something. The curtains were open, and the golden sunlight streamed in, casting a soft glow on her. She looked ethereal. Even in her hospital gown, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her hair was tucked neatly behind her ears.
He stood silently at the door, simply watching her.
She looked up, sensing his presence. Her amber eyes glowed in the sunlight. He forgot what he had meant to say.
After standing there for a while without speaking, she addressed him, "President Mo." Her voice was still low, but clearer than the day before.
He coughed lightly and walked over to her.
"How are you now?" he asked slowly. She nodded.
"I hope you are healing well," he added, and again, she nodded.
Silence fell between them. He had come intending to say a lot, but every word died in his throat when he stood before her. She looked at him briefly and then returned to her book.
She was resting her back against the pillows, her legs folded beneath her, with the book resting gently on her lap. Her injured hands couldn't yet bear the weight of holding it up. The soft rustle of a turning page broke the silence.
Mo Yichen wondered if she was truly unbothered by his presence. Was it because she felt comfortable around him or because she was treating him like air, the way she always did?
"Your parents?" he asked. If they had been around, he would've been chased away long ago. Yet, she was alone. The security was tight, but the Xia couple hadn't left her side since the accident.
"Some work," she replied lightly, without looking up.
He muttered an "oh," and the silence returned.
Xia Ruyan glanced toward the side table and tried to reach out for a glass of water. Mo Yichen was quicker. He stepped forward, grabbed the glass, and passed it to her with an unspoken gentleness.
She looked at him with the faintest frown, so subtle that, had he not been watching her so intently, he would have missed it. Yet he found it oddly endearing.
She tried to take the glass, but he gently pressed it to her lips. So gently. She leaned back slightly, indicating that she could manage on her own, but he didn't relent. With the utmost care, he helped her sip. He knew she was mysophobic, so he ensured her hands didn't touch his or the rim of the glass. She noticed how deliberately he held it from below, never letting his fingers come near hers.
Then, without a word, he handed her the tissue box so she could dab her lips, which now glistened with water droplets. As he sat down beside her, she cleared her throat, subtly gaining his attention.
"President Mo, you don't have to do all this," she said.
"We'll talk about it after you recover, Secretary Xia," he replied, not wanting her to strain her voice.
"You don't need to visit me," she added. "If you feel—"
"I said we'll talk later," he cut her off.
"This is uncomfortable for me…" she said honestly.
She couldn't understand why he would leave behind his work and office just to sit beside her. She didn't need it and she didn't find it comforting, either.
"Uncomfortable…" he repeated, and the word burned somewhere deep inside him. He understood the cold, contractual nature of their relationship, but the idea that his presence made her uncomfortable was still difficult to swallow.
"No matter what dynamics we share whether it was inheritance, or your sacrifice, whether it was a negotiation or a ploy, Xia Ruyan, you are my wife. My responsibility. Do you understand?"
His voice dropped an octave, thick with something that sounded dangerously close to emotion.
She looked directly into his onyx eyes, eyes that were burning with sheer intensity, like they could swallow the air around them. She flinched, just a little.
"President Mo, what happened was meant to happen. I was doing my job. I was kidnapped. It has nothing to do with you," she said evenly, trying to let him know that this incident wasn't his fault and neither was she.
"If I had stayed… if I hadn't left you alone—"
"It would've happened either way," she interrupted. "So don't think you're the reason. You mean nothing."
Her words, though calm and rational, cut deeply. And he realized, she wasn't only talking about the accident. She was talking about him, too. Their relationship.
He meant nothing.
She would have married whoever her parents had chosen. She would have gone along with it, lived her life that way. He was just another name, another decision made for her, not by her.
It hit him then, he had said those same words to her once, on the day they got married.
You mean nothing.
And now, hearing them from her… it hurt more than he'd imagined. Was this what she had felt then? Perhaps not, her face remained as serene and unreadable as ever.
"Nothing has changed between you and me, President Mo," she said with sincerity.
Then she placed her book on the side table and pressed the button beside her. The bed slowly reclined as she adjusted the pillow behind her and lay down carefully.
He remained standing, watching.
Then, without a word, he stepped forward and gently pulled the blanket up over her. She looked at him, surprised, uncomfortable even, but said nothing.
"Xia Ruyan," he said softly, "you're right. Some things are meant to happen. Maybe… maybe we are meant to be. Maybe this was designed by fate. So, no matter what happens, since you've taken my surname, I will take your responsibility. Rest well. I'll come in the evening."
She looked up at him, her eyes wide, as he leaned over her to settle the blanket around her shoulders.
And in her surprise… she couldn't stop him.
Something has changed, she realized.