Soft, Smooth, Delicate.

Wen Yicong was stunned at first, as if she hadn't reacted. When her mind caught up, both cheeks flushed bright red. She couldn't help thinking that this gentleman's way of complimenting was... unique.

She just didn't know if it was a genuine evaluation or a slightly sarcastic tease. Frozen in place for a long while, Wen Yicong finally found her voice and stammered out, 'If that's a compliment, thank you...' Her voice was as faint as a mosquito's buzz, thick with embarrassment.

Mo Shaoshang looked at the young girl before him, taking in the blush on her face, and raised an eyebrow ever so slightly. Then he parted his lips again and said, 'A few days ago, I had business to attend to, so I went to Hong Kong.' Wen Yicong blinked after hearing this.

She thought to herself that this employer was truly capricious—the two sentences he'd spoken had no connection at all. But... going to Hong Kong for business?

Wen Yicong paused, a small question mark forming in her mind: Had she asked him where he was going? Pondering this, she looked up and, with a hint of hesitation and uncertainty, asked softly, 'Mr.

Mo, may I confirm—did I ask you about your whereabouts?' No way. She was a professional rehabilitation therapist with years of experience and a good reputation; she always maintained clear boundaries.

She wouldn't be that rash. Hearing this, Mo Shaoshang shook his head. Seeing this, Wen Yicong's face showed a trace of confusion.

'Then why did you suddenly tell me this?' Mo Shaoshang looked at her calmly and said flatly, 'I am Airi's guardian, so I should stay in close contact with you. I should have told you about the Hong Kong trip in advance, but I didn't have time.' This explanation sounded reasonable, yet it carried a hint of oddness.

They should indeed stay in close contact. But, forgive her ignorance—after all these years in the profession, she'd only heard of therapists asking for leave from employers, never of employers reporting their whereabouts to therapists...

Wen Yicong was a bit suspicious but didn't dwell on it, assuming this employer was just meticulous. Then, she curved her lips into a considerate smile and said sincerely, 'Mr.

Mo, you don't actually need to tell me things involving your privacy. Just let me know Airi's daily schedule and plans, so I can better coordinate with you.' Not far away, the man stood silent, watching her.

The autumn wind blew, the sunlight warm, casting faint shadows through the sparse leaves on her clean, fair face. A few unruly strands of hair danced gently in the breeze, brushing against the soft curve of her neck.

Bathed in that soft light, she looked gentle and serene, with a purity untouched by the world. Such a Chinese girl seemed to have even the wind treating her with special tenderness.

A brief silence fell by the lake. Sensing his quiet but intense gaze, Wen Yicong was puzzled and instinctively touched her cheek.

'What's wrong, Mr. Mo? Is there something on my face?' Oh no. Could it be that she'd eaten breakfast too quickly and left some orange jam on the corner of her mouth?

Mo Shaoshang stared straight at her and asked instead of answering, 'How is Airi performing in class?' Huh? Well. It seemed there was no orange jam on her face.

When it came to her professional field, Wen Yicong cleared her throat and perked up, her lively expression fading into seriousness and focus. 'Airi has been very stable overall these past few days.

In floor-time sessions, I mainly follow his interests... For example, recently Airi really likes spinning objects and arranging blocks.' As she reported, Wen Yicong gestured with her hands.

'I try to add simple interactions when he repeats these behaviors. For instance, when he spins a toy car's wheel, I use exaggerated tones and expressions to catch his attention and imitate him.' 'One thing is worth mentioning.' Her tone brightened a bit as she smiled.

'Airi's resistance to this kind of embedded interaction has significantly decreased. Yesterday afternoon, when I imitated him arranging blocks, he actively looked at me and even smiled—brief, but it's a very positive sign.' ...

The young therapist spoke clearly, detailing her recent observations and intervention focus, then outlined her upcoming lesson plans, including how to gradually increase interaction complexity and introduce simple social games. Mo Shaoshang watched her without shifting his gaze.

He noticed her vivid expressions, her lively eyes, and the confidence shining in them when she discussed her expertise. After a while, Wen Yicong finished her explanation and looked at Mo Shaoshang for feedback.

'Um, do you have any other suggestions for my lesson plans?' Mo Shaoshang was silent for a moment, then said, 'Teacher Wen is professional, meticulous, and responsible. Impeccable.' Wen Yicong was momentarily stunned.

Such a direct and serious affirmation made her a bit embarrassed. She lowered her eyes and replied modestly, 'You flatter me.

This is all my duty. Airi is truly fortunate to have an uncle like you.' She paused, her gaze drifting toward the shimmering lake in the distance.

Watching the elegant swans, her eyes grew distant, as if lost in a memory, and she suddenly said, 'Before taking on Airi, I worked with a child with severe autism. That child was already eight when he first came to our center, but his language development was below that of a two-year-old.

He couldn't point to facial features, couldn't understand complex instructions, and had severe emotional issues. Before every session, he would cling to the hallway railing and cry hysterically.' 'Don't underestimate an eight-year-old—well-nourished and growing fast, he was already nearly 1.4 meters tall.

His mother was very small and thin. Every session, it was like a battle for her.' Wen Yicong's voice was very calm. 'Later, I suggested the mother have another male family member handle daily drop-offs and pick-ups, only to learn that the father had abandoned them, and the grandparents didn't care either...' Remembering that young face and the mother's frail figure, Wen Yicong's nose tingled.

The next moment, she snapped back to reality, realizing she had lost her composure in front of a stranger. She quickly gave Mo Shaoshang an apologetic smile and said, 'I'm sorry.

I just wanted to tell you that every parent who persists in accompanying and working hard for a special-needs child is not easy. Your care and dedication to Airi already surpass many biological fathers...' As she spoke, she lowered her head and discreetly wiped the corner of her eye with the back of her finger.

Just then, a hand came into her view. The knuckles were distinct, the skin a cold white, with blue-green veins visible on the back.

The fingers were long and strong, slightly curled, with clear, hard tendon lines—restrained and powerful. A tissue was pinched between two fingers, offered to her.

Wen Yicong froze, instinctively lifting her gaze. Above her, the man looked straight at her, his blue-black eyes as calm as still water, impeccably dressed, elegant and gentlemanly.

'Thank you...' Wen Yicong murmured, reaching out to take the tissue, wiping her face. Then she gave a grateful smile and politely bid Mo Shaoshang farewell.

She turned and walked away. Her light footsteps gradually faded. Watching the young girl's retreating figure, Mo Shaoshang was silent for a moment, then raised his hand.

He looked at his fingers. The moment they brushed against the back of her hand—barely half a second, so brief she hadn't noticed.

The tips still seemed to retain the sensation of her skin. Soft, smooth, delicate. Unforgettable. After a moment, Mo Shaoshang raised his hand slightly, pressing the bridge of his high nose against it, inhaling gently.

Something spread and eroded deep in his blue-black eyes, like magma flowing beneath an icy surface. * The afternoon floor-time session went smoothly. Airi made eye contact with Wen Yicong four times in total—brief but clear.

Wen Yicong recorded this encouraging change in her notes, her mood growing brighter. In the evening, the chefs prepared dinner.

When Wen Yicong led Airi into the dining room, Mo Shaoshang was already seated at the head of the table. Halfway through dinner, as Wen Yicong was trying to guide Airi to scoop soup with his spoon, the phone in her pocket suddenly rang.

Glancing at the caller ID, it was her mother, Shen Yulan. Wen Yicong answered, 'Hello, Mom?' 'Nongnong, are you busy right now?' Shen Yulan's voice came through the receiver, her tone as usual.

Wen Yicong put down her spoon. 'Not really, I'm having dinner. What's up?' Shen Yulan: 'Oh, eating dinner. Do you have any plans tonight?' Wen Yicong: 'It's the weekend, so I don't have any classes tonight...

Is something urgent?' Shen Yulan: 'No. Just reminding you to video call your grandma after dinner.' Wen Yicong laughed and readily agreed, 'Okay.' Still a bit curious, she asked, 'Are Grandpa and Grandma not feeling well?

Or is something wrong at home?' Shen Yulan: 'They're all fine! They just miss you. They wanted you to come over for dinner tomorrow, but I said you're busy with work, spinning like a top, and don't have time.

A video call to chat a bit is enough.' Wen Yicong was an only child, doted on by her grandparents since childhood, and very filial. After hearing her mother's words, she immediately promised, 'I'll find time to visit them later.

I'll call them right after dinner.' 'Mm.' Hanging up with her mother, Wen Yicong put down her phone to continue eating, but the next second, ding ding ding! A WeChat video call invitation popped up on the screen, showing a bright blooming peony flower.

Seeing her grandmother's profile picture, Wen Yicong choked a bit, declined the call, and quickly typed an explanation: [Grandma, I'm eating dinner right now. I'll video call you and Grandpa later!]

After a few seconds, her grandmother replied with just one word: [Oh.] Then another message followed: [What's Nongnong eating?

Send a photo for Grandpa and Grandma to see.] Seeing this affectionate text, Wen Yicong felt a warmth in her heart, and a smile unconsciously spread across her lips.

She picked up her phone, snapped a picture of the dishes on the table, and sent it to her grandmother. Just as Wen Yicong was lowering her head, smiling as she replied to her grandmother, a voice suddenly came from across the table: 'Teacher Wen.' '...' Wen Yicong's heart skipped a beat: Oh no.

Could it be that the employer was unhappy seeing her on her phone during dinner? But dinner wasn't work hours, and the contract didn't forbid her from replying to family messages during meals.

Thinking this, to be safe, Wen Yicong quickly turned off her phone screen, put it away, cleared her throat, and tried to explain, 'I'm sorry, Mr. Mo, I...' 'What's your WeChat ID?' Wen Yicong was stunned, letting out a single syllable, 'Huh?' 'Texting is inconvenient in many ways.' Mo Shaoshang lifted his eyes, his blue-black gaze fixed straight on her, his expression cool.

'I tried adding you three times with your phone number before, but it didn't work.'