Chapter 95: The Past of Mozhi City (Dedicated to Yiyi’s Diamond Reward)

“You see, you still care about him, don’t you?”
Lily of the Valley’s gaze dimmed slightly. Mrs. Zhang leaned in, smiling softly, “Actually, Mr. Mo prefers light flavors, which makes things easier. And his favorite dish is prawns—he must have them at least once every three days.”
She watched the smile in Mrs. Zhang’s eyes. “He doesn’t like his rice too moist, just a touch dry is best. So when you rinse the rice, be careful about the water.”
Lily of the Valley listened. “Such a hard man to please, yet Mrs. Zhang says he’s easy to serve.”
Mrs. Zhang chuckled, touching her lips as she laughed.
***
Before leaving, Mrs. Zhang gave a few more reminders. Ye Linglan carefully memorized them, but then wondered—why was she doing so?
With only herself left in the villa, Mo Zhicheng absent, she seized the chance to contact Ye Shao.
She dialed his number, and he answered quickly. Before she could speak, the man asked, “Where are you?”
“Are you able to come out?” Ye Shenghan inquired.
“Yes, where shall we meet?”
“By the river. I’ll drive over.”
“Alright!” Lily of the Valley replied softly. On the other end, there was a brief pause, and she heard silence. Just as she was about to hang up, she heard the man murmur, “Don’t leave until we meet.”
What a promise—don’t leave until we meet. Lily of the Valley was momentarily lost, wondering why Ye Shao’s voice carried an indescribable emotion. “Lily of the Valley, did you hear me?”
She gathered her thoughts, answering with a gentle smile, “Don’t leave until we meet.”
It had been more than ten days since she last saw Ye Shao at Blossoms of Purple and Red; it felt as though years had passed, leaving a lingering sense of longing. Near the river was Yunjiang Tower, a famed scenic spot in South River. During the day, tourists came in endless streams, crowding the area like ants—an unusual sight in itself.
In the crowd, Lily of the Valley spotted Ye Shenghan at a glance. He wore a khaki trench coat over a white shirt and a black V-neck sweater—simple attire, yet he looked striking. The scene resembled a moment from a romance film: the bustling crowd around them moved like golden fish, light and shadows flickering, transforming into a shimmering silver aura. It was as if the lyrics sang: just because I glanced at you again among the crowd.
When I miss you, you’re at the horizon;
When I miss you, you’re in my mind.
That voice seemed to sing mournfully beside her ear. Ye Shenghan’s eyes warmed as he silently gazed at the woman before him. Their eyes met, and Lily of the Valley smiled at him, as if years had already passed.
She approached him slowly, calling softly, “Ye Shao.”
Ye Shenghan smiled at the corner of his lips. She asked, “You’ve been waiting long, haven’t you?” The seaside villa was far, so it wasn’t convenient to get to the city.
“No,” Ye Shenghan answered with a faint smile, and glanced at the grand Yunjiang Tower behind him. “Let’s go up.”
The elevator ascended, its clear, weighty glass reflecting their figures standing side by side.
She watched the morning light dance along the window, catching his image in the glass—just like when they were children, standing shoulder to shoulder in the corner, acting out being punished by the director’s grandmother.
Her faint smile was also reflected on the glass, her blurred face overlapping with the rows of tall buildings outside. Her figure seemed like a mirage—clearly in sight, yet she feared that touching it would make it vanish like smoke and clouds.
As they stepped out of Yunjiang Tower, jostling through the crowded stream of people, Lily of the Valley was bumped by passing tourists. Ye Shenghan quickly pulled her into his arms, the movement tugging at her wound. Lily of the Valley frowned, inhaling sharply, and buried her face so he wouldn’t see her pain. In the next moment, he shielded her with his body.
Lily of the Valley steadied her breathing, trying to ease the pain.
They walked to the railing. Ye Shenghan led her to look out over all of South River: cars flowing like water, horses like dragons, people like ants.
Lily of the Valley glanced at him, noticing the fresh stubble on his chin. She looked up, seeing the fatigue in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” she asked in surprise. “Did something happen?”
Ye Shenghan shook his head.
Ye Linglan remembered, “How’s that project?”
“We’re still negotiating. Shengqi may be just a few years old, but it has its own advantages,” he said concisely.
Lily of the Valley was relieved. “Alright, Ye Shao, be careful. Mo Zhicheng seems to be investigating Shengqi privately.”
Ye Shenghan smiled at her. “It’s fine. Shengqi’s legal representative isn’t me; I’m just operating from behind the scenes.”
Lily of the Valley nodded, sighing softly. “Just be careful anyway. You look exhausted, what’s going on?”
“It’s nothing. I haven’t slept well for several nights.”
“Insomnia?”
“Yes,” he murmured.
“Should you see a doctor?” Lily of the Valley frowned.
Ye Shenghan just looked at her, smiling gently, the corners of his eyes lifting slightly. “It’s alright. Tonight I’ll sleep well.”
“Hm?” she asked, puzzled. Ye Shenghan patted her shoulder lightly. Only the heart can heal the heart, the knot must be untied by the one who tied it.
Ye Shenghan turned his gaze, looking out at the panoramic view of South River. “Lily of the Valley, where did you go on your last business trip?” he asked.
Lily of the Valley lowered her eyes, thinking for a moment, hiding her nervousness. “Hong Kong.” She recalled something and wanted to shift the topic. From her pocket, she took out a golden card. “I went to a temple and got this for you.”
“What’s that?” Ye Shenghan turned his head.
“A protective charm.” She smiled. On the front of the golden charm was the image of Thousand-Armed Avalokitesvara, and the back bore the Sanskrit Great Compassion Mantra. “Where’s your wallet?”
Ye Shenghan’s eyes lit up with a trace of delight; his dark irises brightened. “You went to a temple?”
She nodded, reaching out her hand. “Your wallet, hurry up!”
Ye Shenghan took his wallet from his pocket and handed it to her. After all these years, it was the first time she had seen his wallet. She took it—a soft coffee-colored leather, with the SATCHI logo faintly visible at one corner. That was his favorite brand.
She opened it and saw an old photograph in the compartment. Looking closely, she recognized a young girl’s innocent face. She was surprised and looked up at him. “Isn’t this… my photo?”
Ye Shenghan smiled at her, “Yes.”
“How did it get here?”
“You looked adorable.”
Hearing this, Lily of the Valley burst out laughing. “When we were kids, you called me ‘Dumpling’ because my face was round and chubby, and you said it felt smooth when you pinched it.” Recalling those days, her smile grew a little stiff. She glanced at him quietly, noticing his dark pupils were lost in memories of the past.
“Why do you keep my photo in your wallet?” she asked.
He looked at her, “So adorable. I still remember, even back then, your hair was so soft, naturally beautiful, glossy under the sunlight. If I ever have a daughter, I hope she’ll be as cute as you were as a child.”
His words stunned her—have a daughter? She smiled, feeling her lips tremble, but could only respond, “Mm.”
She tucked the charm behind the photo. “The Bodhisattva will keep you safe, Ye Shao.” She smiled gently. “If you can’t sleep, put it under your pillow. The Great Compassion Mantra is Avalokitesvara’s great loving heart. I’ll recite it for you these days.” She closed the wallet. “Here—”
Ye Shenghan looked at the wallet in her palm, warmth spreading in his heart. “You give me a charm, what should I give you?” He laughed softly. “A gift for a gift.”
Ye Shenghan took a silver zipper from his pocket and opened her hand, placing it in her palm. “This is something I keep close. Carry it with you every day,” but the last words he only whispered in his heart: Lily of the Valley, let you know, I think of you every day.
That zipper, warm from his touch, landed in her hand like a burning, beating heart.
“And, Lily of the Valley,” Ye Shenghan reminded her, “when you’re dealing with Mo Zhicheng, make sure to protect yourself well!”
A trace of panic flickered across Lily of the Valley’s face.
***
Ye Linglan hurried back before Mo Zhicheng left work, stopping by the nearby supermarket for some vegetables. That way, if Mo Zhicheng returned early, she’d have the excuse of ‘going out to buy groceries.’
Upon returning to the villa, she noticed the silence. The spacious villa, lavishly decorated, was bathed in the cold, noble glow of the setting sun. It only heightened the sense of loneliness—the loneliness of being in a lofty place.
With Mo Zhicheng gone, she found it boring to stay alone. She kept glancing at the clock on the wall, as if waiting for something. The hands pointed to eight at night; he still hadn’t returned. Lily of the Valley sighed, searching the villa but found nothing of note.
As she approached the study, she paused, unconsciously reaching out.
“What are you doing?” A man’s voice suddenly sounded behind her. She was startled, instinctively turning to see Mo Zhicheng. She sighed quietly, “You scared me!” she complained.
Mo Zhicheng stood by the stairs, frowning as he looked at her. Lily of the Valley saw his poor complexion. In a moment, he took off his coat. “Don’t touch that place again,” he said quietly and walked to his guest room.
She watched his retreating figure and called out, “Have you eaten?”
“Not yet,” Mo Zhicheng stopped. “I was out discussing a project today, a bit tired.” He glanced at her, “Have you eaten?”
“Not yet—” she murmured.
Mo Zhicheng turned, frowning at her. “I’ll go change, wait for me.” His instructions were brief.
Lily of the Valley went downstairs first, taking the warm food from the rice cooker, following Mrs. Zhang’s instructions—the rice dry and plump. Her specialty was simple home-cooked dishes.
Mo Zhicheng stood nearby, watching her delicate figure under the soft lamp, always so graceful.
Dinner was somewhat quiet. Mo Zhicheng stirred his rice, and Lily of the Valley dared not ask about the study. From his words, she understood: a dragon has its reverse scale, never to be touched. The study was likely Mo Zhicheng’s taboo.
After a moment, Lily of the Valley looked up at him. “My injury is almost healed.” Hearing this, Mo Zhicheng paused. Lily of the Valley asked cautiously, “Now that Mrs. Zhang is gone, I have nothing to do all day, so I’d like to return to work at Tiancheng tomorrow. Is that alright?” She was asking his opinion.
Mo Zhicheng put down his bowl, looking at her. “You can’t sit still, can you?”
She nodded. “So what do you say?”
Mo Zhicheng sighed softly. “What else? With your stubbornness, if I don’t let you, you’ll find another way. Might as well let you go, and you’ll be grateful.”
Lily of the Valley looked at him in surprise.
“You’ll work with me,” he said. “Don’t rush to refuse. The seaside villa is far from Tiancheng. The earliest bus is at six in the morning. If you want to arrive on time, you’ll have to catch that first bus. If you struggle every morning, it defeats the purpose of letting you work. Understand?”
He was thorough, leaving her no room to argue. Reaching this point was already his greatest concession.
“I have another question.”
He nodded, signaling her to continue. “Why did you send Mrs. Zhang away?”
Those deep eyes stared intently. “I just want the two of us together, no others to disturb us. Is that reason enough?”
In his eyes, she saw her small reflection, momentarily lost, then met his gentle smile. He touched his forehead, sighed deeply, “With no servants at home, how will we live this month, hmm?” He laughed quietly. “Have you thought about it?”
“What?”
“Who cooks? Who washes dishes, clothes, cleans the house?”
Seeing the playful glint in his eyes, she responded, “Rock, paper, scissors!” But her expression stayed serious.
The man chuckled, his eyes saying it was child’s play. He picked up his chopsticks, tasting the food. “You’ll wash all my clothes!”
She was startled. “Why?”
“Because it feels warm here,” he said, touching his chest.
“And you? What will you do?”
Mo Zhicheng slowly leaned closer, his handsome face nearly touching hers. Lily of the Valley instinctively retreated, pressing against the wooden chair. “I’ll make sure you’re well-fed!”
Her cheeks flushed.
He brushed aside the hair by her ear. “Lily of the Valley, you’re too thin!” His words carried a deeper meaning. Ye Linglan bit her lip, realizing she had misunderstood.
Her blush reached her ears; Mo Zhicheng watched, catching every subtle expression, and smiled calmly.
***
When Lily of the Valley returned to Tiancheng, she sensed unusual glances cast her way. Among her colleagues, she felt a hint of awe in their words—something was off.
Mo Zhicheng remained as busy as ever, NightCITY still under his control. After the morning meeting, Lily of the Valley saw Tang Pei leave his office. When their eyes met, Tang Pei looked momentarily surprised, then smiled faintly at her.
Seeing her again, she looked much better, still dressed simply, her hair pinned behind her ear, exposing a pearl-like earlobe.
He looked at her, feeling a fleeting sense of loss. That feeling had lingered since that day in the tea room, when Mr. Mo carried her and called her his woman—it was like an imprint that wouldn’t fade. He couldn’t say why, just that it felt suffocating and gloomy.
He nodded politely, but Lily of the Valley stopped him. “Director Tang,” she quickly got up and hurried to his side.
“Lily of the Valley, is your injury better?” Tang Pei smiled, asking gently.
“You knew I was hurt?”
“When you were bleeding heavily, I was there. It was shocking.”
Lily of the Valley was surprised. “Do you have time at noon?”
“What for?”
“I’d like to talk with you.”
Tang Pei was Mo Zhicheng’s trusted aide; there were things she wanted to ask about Mo Zhicheng.
“Alright.”
She arranged to meet Tang Pei in the food street of NightCITY’s shopping plaza.
The sun was bright, the restaurant’s terrace bathed in golden light, warm and inviting.
Lily of the Valley pulled out a chair for Tang Pei. “Sit down! I owe you this meal, Little Tang.”
Tang Pei sat, watching her busy under the sunlight. After a few pleasantries, he saw through her intent. “Congratulations, you got what you wanted,” she looked at him in surprise. Tang Pei continued, “From the start, you admired Mr. Mo.”
Lily of the Valley forced a smile—so it was about that. Yet she sensed something unusual in his words. Tang Pei added, “You want to ask me about Mr. Mo, don’t you?”
“You guessed?”
About Mr. Mo, Tang Pei never said much in her presence, always stopping short, adding to the sense of secrecy—stories that were carefully guarded.
Tang Pei laughed, touching his forehead. Lily of the Valley pressed forward, “Little Tang, can you tell me about his past?”
That long-buried history revealed greed, emptiness, jealousy, and pain.
“His mother was a Chinese-American, from a privileged family, and the heiress of a famous corporation. Many gentlemen courted her, but she fell in love with his father, a student studying abroad in the seventies,” Tang Pei began. Lily of the Valley grasped the icy glass, her palm tense, awaiting with anxious anticipation.
“The gap between their backgrounds was like a chasm, but perhaps in his mother’s eyes, there were no barriers—she simply admired his father’s remarkable talent. Pursuing free love in that era was rare. She was determined to marry him.”
“And then?”
“She did marry him, and returned home after completing her studies.”