In the midst of busyness, time always flies. In the blink of an eye, a few days had passed, and it was the weekend again!
Counting on his fingers, Yang Yi hadn't seen his daughter for two weeks now.
When Mo Fei called, Yang Yi was sweating profusely, moving bookshelves from the small building. He had already packed away the few remaining books, storing them in a box on the second floor for the old man. As for these bookshelves, Yang Yi had his own plans and arrangements.
Some bookshelves would naturally be lined with books he found interesting and thought-provoking, while others he intended to fill with handicrafts or wooden carvings he made himself—a small hobby he'd picked up during the monotonous training in the jungle.
The rustic wooden bookshelves, arranged against the wall in a staggered, orderly fashion, paired with warm-toned lighting, would create a deeply cultured atmosphere in the café!
But Mo Fei's furious questioning shattered that mood: "Yang, where the hell have you been? Weren't we supposed to have me drop off our daughter today? I have work this afternoon, you know!"
Yang Yi was taken aback. He glanced at the time on his phone screen and felt a bit speechless.
What time was it, anyway?
Mo Fei had indeed told him yesterday that she'd bring Xixi over, but the problem was she usually came in the afternoon. So, having nothing to do in the morning, Yang Yi had practiced his martial arts, then headed over to tidy up his coffee shop, planning to go back around noon.
Who knew Mo Fei would show up this early!
"Alright, I'll be right back." Not wanting to argue over such a trivial matter, Yang Yi hung up and hurried back.
Mo Fei was furious!
She was actually very busy. To salvage her image, Sister Ling had lined up a ton of gigs for her. Yesterday, she'd been recording a show until three in the morning, and this afternoon she had to attend a clothing brand event. She could have easily had Mo Xiaojuan bring Xixi over.
But thinking back to how she'd treated Yang Yi that day—after calming down, she realized she might have misunderstood him and regretted it deeply, though her pride wouldn't let her apologize—Mo Fei decided to come herself. For this, she'd even put on some light makeup to hide her exhaustion and spent half an hour picking out clothes...
Never mind how she inexplicably wanted to dress up nicely to see Yang Yi, but when she held Xixi's little hand and nervously arrived at the door of his cramped apartment, only to find it locked... Mo Fei exploded.
Her Scorpio nature, prone to suspicion, kicked in, and she immediately jumped to the worst conclusions:
Was he out fooling around?
Staying at another woman's place?
Abandoning Xixi and... forget it, abandoning Xixi?
Hence the scene during the phone call.
But when Mo Fei saw Yang Yi appear at the stairwell, dusty and drenched in sweat, her anger, resentment, and suspicion all vanished. Even her icy-cold face seemed to soften a little.
"Daddy!" Xixi was thrilled to see her father. She didn't care that he was dirty; she lunged forward wanting a hug.
But Mo Fei had a bit of a cleanliness obsession, and Xixi was wearing a clean white dress, so she quickly pulled the little one back.
Still, she paused, then parted her red lips and spoke in a rare, gentle tone: "Why didn't you say you were at work?"
Her earlier accusations melted into deep guilt.
However, Mo Fei's tone made Yang Yi feel uneasy. He gave her a strange look and said lazily, "Work? I'm not working!"
Indeed, he wasn't working. He'd stopped going to that hotel security job days ago and hadn't even bothered to quit properly.
But Mo Fei believed him, and she even imagined Yang Yi hauling bricks at a construction site—after all, he was covered in dust from head to toe!
This man, for Xixi's sake, was really killing himself to make money!
Suddenly, her heart ached with an inexplicable pang.
Yang Yi didn't think much of it. He smiled and bumped fists with the bouncing Xixi, making the little one happily make funny faces.
After opening the door and letting Mo Fei and Xixi in, Yang Yi noticed the dark muddy footprints he'd left on the tiles at the entrance. His brow twitched involuntarily.
He wanted to grab a cloth and wipe it clean.
But in front of Mo Fei and the others, he didn't want to seem too obsessive about it, since his former self hadn't had such severe compulsions.
Still, unable to stand his sticky, grimy state, he tossed out a quick sentence and hurriedly grabbed a change of clothes, disappearing into the cramped bathroom: "Make yourselves at home. I'll take a shower."
Mo Fei had actually planned to drop off Xixi and leave. Mo Xiaojuan was waiting downstairs in the car! But watching Yang Yi's retreating figure, she opened her mouth but said nothing.
As Yang Yi showered, the sound of running water, impossible to block out through the flimsy plastic door, made Mo Fei's cheeks flush. She didn't even notice Xixi's chattering.
"Daddy's going to make Xixi something yummy!" the little one exclaimed excitedly, but seeing her mother ignore her, she ran around looking for toys to play with.
Sure enough, she found a little wooden duck Yang Yi had carved as practice and happily started playing with it.
Mo Fei, on the other hand, felt awkward. Listening to the water, her mind couldn't help but conjure up images of Yang Yi's muscular back—though those memories from four years ago were distant.
To distract herself, she studied Yang Yi's living space.
This was the first time she'd seriously looked at this small apartment! Before, she'd always found it oppressive, and sitting with the rigid Yang Yi, she couldn't stand being there for a minute.
But now, Mo Fei was surprised. She noticed that Yang Yi's place wasn't bad at all. Everything was neatly arranged, and more importantly, the home was spotless. Even the kitchen was so clean that Mo Fei, with her slight cleanliness obsession, couldn't find fault.
It was still very small—too small. All the rooms combined weren't as big as her living room, and the ventilation and soundproofing were still hard for her to accept.
But Mo Fei glanced at Xixi, kneeling on the sofa playing with the little duck, and felt something special: this place had the warmth of a home, very cozy!
Before she could figure out the source of her emotions, Yang Yi emerged from the bathroom, wearing a tight tank top and shorts, appearing casually before her.
At 1.87 meters tall, Yang Yi's presence was overwhelming as Mo Fei looked up from the sofa.
Even more visually striking were his chest muscles, straining the tank top, and the abdominal muscles that were impossible to hide, forming an inverted triangle shape beneath the hem.
The dampness from the shower gave his bronze skin a subtle sheen, and a wave of intense masculine energy washed over Mo Fei, enveloping her.
"What... what are you doing?" Mo Fei's cold, beautiful face flushed red as she asked nervously.
What was he doing? Yang Yi ran a hand through his damp, messy hair and gave her a puzzled look. What could he be doing?
But his silence only deepened Mo Fei's blush, like an iceberg melting to reveal a vivid red rose, thick with emotion and a hint of allure...
Afraid of an awkward silence, Yang Yi racked his brain for a topic: "Didn't you say you had work?"
Well, that really killed the mood.