Go Out with Me.

The turn of events completely exceeded Wen Yicong's expectations. Her entire body stiffened, her mind went blank, and she stood frozen in place.

It wasn't until the tender lips and tongue were utterly devoured, invaded, and sucked, with a faint pain transmitting to her cerebral cortex, that Wen Yicong's eyes suddenly focused and she snapped back to reality.

Not an illusion. Not a dream.

The man's crisp breath sprayed against her face, his lips pressed against hers, his tongue inside her mouth.

He was kissing her.

This realization leaped into her mind, causing Wen Yicong's eyes to widen in shock.

Since childhood, Wen Yicong had been what adults called 'someone else's child'—excellent in character and academics, well-behaved and sensible, her life plan completely following her parents' arrangements. Study, graduate, start working—every step had gone without deviation.

She had never been in love, nor had she ever had any intimate contact with the opposite sex.

And now, this man, who was usually aloof, noble, and unapproachable, was actually, on this storm-ravaged night, using a nearly predatory manner to...

A multitude of chaotic thoughts surged in like towering waves, crashing against Wen Yicong's mind.

Almost reflexively, the next second, she extended both hands to push him harder, her voice spilling out from between his lips and tongue, muffled and broken, carrying an uncontrollable tremor: 'Mo... Mr. Mo! Please let me go, let go...'

Through the layer of shirt fabric, her hands pressed against his chest. That patch of skin was taut and firm, the lines of muscle undulating like mountain ranges, full of explosive power, making her palms burn, yet she couldn't budge him an inch.

A mayfly trying to topple a tree—her resistance didn't save her but instead became a spark falling into an oil depot.

'Sorry...' Mo Shaoshang pressed tightly against her lips, speaking in a hoarse voice tinged with a nearly pained low gasp, as if muttering to himself, 'Sorry.'

Wen Yicong had no idea what he was talking about; she only felt overwhelming panic.

He was so tall, his towering figure casting a shadow like an apocalyptic tsunami, enveloping her slender form, even the last trace of light in the studio swallowed by him.

He pinned her hard against the wall, seamless, leaving no gap, her entire body trapped between him and the wall.

Her body was completely covered by his solid chest and broad shoulders and back, her legs pinned by his powerful long legs, her toes almost leaving the ground.

At this moment, Wen Yicong even had the illusion that she was a young beast trapped in a cage, with no way up to heaven or down to earth, unable to escape, only able to twist her body futilely.

In her panicked struggle, her nails scratched randomly, leaving several marks on the arm that restrained her.

Scarlet printed on the cold white, glaring and eerie.

The slender girl's strength was adorably small; her scratching felt like a kitten's claws, scratching at Mo Shaoshang's heart. He felt no pain at all, only an itch.

A bone-deep, soul-consuming itch.

After a moment, Mo Shaoshang briefly moved his lips away, lowered his gaze, and looked down at the girl in his arms from above.

Her curly hair was messy, her makeup smudged, her cheeks flushed a delicate red, her eyes brimming with two pools of shimmering water, misty and dazed as she looked at him, a mix of bewilderment and shame and indignation. She was as beautiful as a dream.

So fragile, so enchanting, so pitiful.

It made one want to crush her completely.

And then swallow her, bite by bite.

This thought pierced into his mind. Mo Shaoshang's eyes darkened slightly, then his palm bones clenched, and with one hand he raised both her wrists and pinned them above her head.

In the blink of an eye, her body was forced to arch upward, meeting him. Almost without reservation, she exposed herself to his view, delivered into his control.

This posture made Wen Yicong even more ashamed and annoyed, her face reddening as if it would drip blood.

She moved her lips, wanting to say something.

But before she could make a sound, Mo Shaoshang's lips descended again, engulfing her.

This was not a gentle kiss.

It was more like a one-sided conquest and plunder, forceful and domineering.

His lips pressed against hers, his agile and powerful tongue pried open her teeth, charging straight in, attacking cities and territories. Sweeping every corner, frantically absorbing her breath, tangling with her tongue that had nowhere to flee, full of a suffocating possessiveness.

Wen Yicong felt she could hardly breathe, as if the air in her lungs was being drained by him.

'Mo... mm...'

All protests were blocked back into her throat, turning into broken sobs. He restrained her, one hand clamping her wrists, the other arm tightly encircling her slender waist, with such force that he almost seemed to want to knead her into his body.

The absolute difference in size left Wen Yicong with no power to resist; she could only passively endure.

Outside the window, the night sky poured rain; inside the studio, it was also a raging storm.

After the initial panic, a strange sensation forcibly awakened swept over her—uncontrollable trembling, the dizziness of hypoxia, intertwining and spreading through her body.

The scent of cedar and wine, originally crisp and elegant, now became aggressive, extremely dangerous and seductive.

Wen Yicong's whole body went limp, her legs barely able to support her.

After a while, whether sensing the weakening of her physical resistance or for some other reason, Mo Shaoshang's kiss on her lips gradually shifted from violent to gentle.

Wen Yicong's mind was dizzy; she blinked sluggishly.

She felt the man's tongue finally withdraw from her mouth, his teeth slightly parted, gently biting her lower lip. Then came a fine, gentle grinding, back and forth, tirelessly, bringing an indescribable itch.

Wen Yicong's whole body was soft and tender, and she was most ticklish.

Bitten by him, her heart tingled; she instinctively shrank her neck, wanting to dodge.

Sensing this cute little movement, a flicker of amusement passed through Mo Shaoshang's eyes, and then his thin lips covered hers.

He kissed her deeper.

Wen Yicong trembled uncontrollably, panicked, ashamed, and confused, feeling as if her very soul was being sucked out and devoured whole by him.

The surroundings were too dark; the loss of sight sharpened her other senses.

She clearly heard the ambiguous wet sounds of lips and teeth intertwining in the air, the sound of the rainstorm outside the window that drowned out everything; she clearly smelled the crisp, pleasant scent on him, like snow-covered mountain pines; she clearly felt the skin of the man's fingers gently stroking her neck, his palm and fingertips calloused, thin and hard, not at all smooth, scraping her with a mix of itch and numbness...

After who knows how long, Mo Shaoshang was no longer satisfied with the entanglement of lips and tongue. He began to move down along her delicate jawline, leaving hot, wet marks one after another.

Finally, his lips landed on her wildly beating carotid artery, rubbing and licking ambiguously.

Like a beast confirming its prey's ownership.

Wen Yicong's limbs were restrained, unable to move a fraction, feeling as if she were being roasted by fire, her whole skin itching with dryness.

'Wen Yicong.' He buried his face in her neck, softly calling her name, his voice low and hoarse, his burning lips pressed against her sensitive neck, every word carrying scorching heat, 'Do you know?'

'You really aren't being good.'

'...' Wen Yicong moved her lips, wanting to say something, but no sound came out.

She had never seen Mo Shaoshang like this—wild, obsessive, with intense possessiveness. Nor had she ever heard his voice like this—tight, hoarse, incredibly sexy.

The scent of alcohol in the air seemed to grow stronger, and the dizziness more intense.

Wen Yicong's breathing was labored, even her consciousness becoming blurry.

She felt she was about to faint.

Just then, the man's fingers restraining her hands finally slowly released.

Wen Yicong quickly withdrew her hands.

Instinctively wanting to flee.

But Mo Shaoshang's tall, straight body stood before her like an iron wall, blocking all her escape routes.

She couldn't leave, couldn't escape; she could only stand with her back against the wall, turning her face to the side, her eyelids lowered, not daring to look at him.

Her face was so hot, her body too.

Her fingers unconsciously stroked her left wrist, her heart racing, her chest heaving rapidly as she tried to calm her disordered breathing.

While calming down, she couldn't help recalling what had just happened.

How did all this happen?

Too sudden, too chaotic, completely without warning.

All her perceptions were overturned in that moment.

This man, always calm and self-possessed, gentlemanly and elegant, occasionally showing rare gentleness to Airi, overlapped with the image of the obsessive, violent predator from seconds ago, a split that left Wen Yicong unable to think.

Shame, remorse, fear, and that trace of trembling indulgence she was unwilling to admit—all tangled and piled up, surging toward her like waves.

Wen Yicong's cheeks flushed even deeper; she lightly bit her lip with her teeth.

What should she do?

What should she do next?

Resign and leave? But Airi's rehabilitation intervention had just started to show progress; changing therapists at this point would do nothing but harm to the child.

Stay here and continue to live day and night with this employer who is one thing on the surface and another inside?

But after what happened, she had no idea how to face him...

Wen Yicong felt lost and helpless. As she thought, her left hand unconsciously stroked her right wrist bone.

Suddenly, her wrist bone turned cold, caught by five long fingers.

Wen Yicong snapped back to reality and looked up.

She saw the man across from her lowering his eyelids, carefully examining her wrist, his expression focused.

'...' Wen Yicong was embarrassed and uncomfortable; she pursed her lips and tried to pull her hand back.

But the other party's fingers tightened, refusing to let go, and his blue-black eyes also lifted, staring straight at her. His gaze was deep, sticky, stubborn, with unextinguished desire and the embers of madness churning in the depths.

Meeting this gaze, Wen Yicong's heart suddenly tightened, as if squeezed by an invisible hand. Flustered, she almost fled by lowering her head again, refusing eye contact.

Yet the next second, two long fingers pinched her chin, lifting it with a gentle but irresistible force.

'Wen Yicong.' Mo Shaoshang's low, magnetic voice was soft and slow, gentle and tender. 'Look at me.'

As if bewitched, Wen Yicong's eyelashes trembled, and as if possessed, she raised her eyes to look at him.

Mo Shaoshang looked down at the girl in his arms. With just one glance, he couldn't look away.

This fair, pure little face was now covered in alluring blushes. The crimson spread from her cheeks to her ears, then extended to her slender neck, like white porcelain stained with the most vibrant rouge.

Her bright eyes were moist and dazed, the corners of her eyes flushed with emotion; her originally soft lips had been bitten, kissed, and ravaged until they were swollen and red, glistening with a translucent sheen, slightly parted as she breathed softly.

Especially a few strands of hair, wet with sweat, stuck to her flushed cheeks, adding a touch of messy beauty.

Her whole being seemed like a flower drenched by a rainstorm—innocent yet seductive, so tender it could be crushed with a pinch.

Mo Shaoshang looked at her, his eyes dark and turbid.

A deeply contradictory thought suddenly rose from the bottom of his heart.

She was so beautiful, so charming; she was born to be held in the palm of a hand, cherished and adored. But this expression of shame mixed with anger and overflowing allure completely ignited the darkest, most hidden side of his heart.

He wanted to possess her alone.

He even wanted to devour her, to make her, from bone and blood to soul, merge with him.

As his thoughts turned, Mo Shaoshang's addictive cravings surged. He bent down, reached out to hook her slender waist, and lifted her horizontally in his arms.

'...'

Wen Yicong's eyes widened, and she let out a low cry: 'What are you doing?!'

Mo Shaoshang's face was calm; he didn't speak. Holding her, he strode over to the single sofa beside the easel, sat down, and placed her on his lap.

Wen Yicong moved her lips to say something, but he hooked a finger under her chin, closed his eyes, and kissed her again.

Unlike the violent and savage kiss before, this time Mo Shaoshang showed great patience.

Soft as a spring breeze, gentle as a fine rain. His tongue licked her lips and teeth, and after gently stroking each small, white, neat tooth, he entangled her flustered little tongue, drew it into his mouth, and tenderly and gently cherished it.

Wen Yicong hadn't even recovered yet; being kissed like this, she was completely defenseless.

Her body went even softer, and she let out a muffled sob.

Unable to break free or escape, she could only cling to him, her ten porcelain-white, slender fingers unconsciously curling, crumpling the fabric of his shirt into a mess.

The rainstorm outside, which seemed intent on destroying everything, gradually showed signs of fatigue.

The clamor subsided; the heavy curtain of rain thinned; lightning and thunder fell silent.

Only a fine drizzle lingered in the night, like soothing whispers.

After who knows how long.

Just as Wen Yicong was about to faint from lack of oxygen, Mo Shaoshang's tongue finally withdrew from her mouth. He closed his eyes, pressed his forehead against hers, and lightly touched her lips with his, once, then again, as if reluctant to stop.

Wen Yicong's face was like fire; her breathing was unsteady. After calming down for a while, she recovered slightly, lifted her eyelids, and mustered the courage to glare at him with her misty eyes.

'Mr. Mo, do you know what you're doing?' Wen Yicong's eyes were wide as she asked.

Her voice was naturally sweet and soft, and now it was a little hoarse, adding even more allure. Therefore, this questioning statement, spoken from her lips, lost much of its impact.

It only made her seem obedient.

'Mm.' Mo Shaoshang kept his eyes half-closed, his arms tightening around her, and responded very softly, 'I know.'

After saying that, he paused briefly, then lifted his eyelids to look at her: 'I was kissing you.'

Wen Yicong's face grew even hotter. The next second, she used both hands and all her strength to struggle again.

This time, Mo Shaoshang did not restrain her.

He released his arms, and she immediately, as if granted amnesty, fled to stand a few meters away from him.

Wen Yicong tried her best to steady her mind.

Earlier, she had been imprisoned in a space that only contained him, her thoughts dazed and chaotic, unable to think. Now that she was away from him, her mind finally regained clarity.

Wen Yicong thought: The world of fame and fortune and the world of romance have never been separable. Given Mo Shaoshang's family background, status, and position, such things might be just routine for him.

Thinking this, she felt even more ashamed and angry—she was only the live-in rehabilitation therapist he had hired; her only job here was to help Airi with his Autism Spectrum Disorder rehabilitation training.

If in his heart she was someone who would sell herself for money and fame, then he had seriously underestimated her.

The more Wen Yicong thought about it, the angrier she got. Her lips moved a couple of times, about to speak, but unexpectedly, the noble man sitting on the sofa spoke first.

Mo Shaoshang: 'I'm sorry.'

'...' Wen Yicong was momentarily stunned. She hadn't expected this person to suddenly apologize; all her anger was thus stuck in her throat, neither up nor down.

'What happened tonight was too out of control on my part,' Mo Shaoshang said calmly. 'I sincerely apologize to you.'

Wen Yicong: '...'

Since childhood, Wen Yicong had been known for her good temper. If it had been something else, with this employer apologizing humbly and with a good attitude, she would definitely have chosen to let the matter drop and not pursue it further.

But...

He had kissed her.

And for so long, so fiercely—gnawing, biting, eating, sucking—he had swollen her lips!

If something like this could be easily forgiven, then where were her principles, where was her bottom line?

As she thought, Wen Yicong blushed and blurted out in shame and anger: 'Just because you apologize, I have to accept it? If apologies always worked and always earned forgiveness, then the world wouldn't need police.'

Mo Shaoshang: 'I don't ask you to forgive me; I just hope you won't be angry.'

Wen Yicong was speechless and muttered, 'It's not that easy.'

Hearing this, Mo Shaoshang's blue-black eyes fixed on her as he asked, 'Tell me, what can I do to make you calm down?'

Wen Yicong thought about it but didn't know the answer herself. She frowned in frustration and remained silent.

He was quiet for a moment, then said, 'I have a few solutions I can offer for your reference.'

Wen Yicong: 'What solutions?'

'The first solution: I'll help you call the police.'

Mo Shaoshang looked at her, his expression and tone as calm as water. 'After calling the police, I will assign the best legal team for you to file a lawsuit in court, accusing me of sexual harassment. According to relevant Chinese law, the crime of sexual harassment can be punished with up to five years in prison or criminal detention.'

'You can send me to prison and make me pay for my wrong actions.'

'...' Wen Yicong was choked.

To be honest, although this man's kiss just now was very sudden, actually sending him to prison to eat prison food... that was still too much. Besides, he was now Airi's only guardian; if he went to prison, what would happen to the child?

For Airi's sake, Wen Yicong felt she couldn't let the police take Mo Shaoshang away.

'Forget it,' she said, clearing her throat, turning her face away, not looking at him. 'Sending you to jail would make Airi very pitiful.'

So Mo Shaoshang pondered for a few seconds, then slightly parted his thin lips and spoke again.

He said lightly, 'There's another solution.'

Wen Yicong: 'What is it?'

Mo Shaoshang: 'Please go out with me.'

'...' Wen Yicong almost thought her ears were malfunctioning; she was stunned. 'What?'

'Please go out with me,' Mo Shaoshang said. 'Miss Wen Yicong, I hope you will become my girlfriend and give me a chance to take responsibility for tonight's accident.'

With a 'boom,' Wen Yicong felt as if something had hit her brain hard, leaving it blank.

Go out?

Just because he had kissed her out of control, he proposed going out with her? This was even more absurd than the 'call the police' solution just now.

'This is simply inexplicable...' Wen Yicong was incoherent, her voice trembling slightly from tension and shock, the blush on her face even more vivid. 'Mr. Mo, some things are not a joke. For you to suddenly make such a suggestion or request, isn't it too hasty...'

'Not hasty,' Mo Shaoshang interrupted her calmly.

Wen Yicong abruptly raised her head, meeting those deep, focused blue-black eyes, her heart pounding as if it would burst out of her chest the next second.

'Proposing to go out with you is a decision I made after careful consideration,' Mo Shaoshang paused slightly, then added, 'Not just for myself, but also for Airi.'

Wen Yicong's gaze sharpened: 'Airi?'

'After Airi was diagnosed, I consulted the world's top child development experts and also read many research reports. All research results clearly indicate that for children on the autism spectrum, a stable, predictable, and secure environment is the cornerstone of rehabilitation. You should be clear about this.'

Mo Shaoshang's voice was calm and restrained, as if stating a rigorously argued business plan, every word carrying solemnity and seriousness.

After a moment, Wen Yicong nodded thoughtfully: 'Yes, that's right.'

'During this time, the trust and emotional connection you have established with Airi have become irreplaceable. Any change in environment or primary caregiver could impact him and even cause regression in the rehabilitation process.' Mo Shaoshang looked at her and continued, 'I think that us becoming partners is the most responsible and beneficial choice for Airi.'

Wen Yicong stood frozen in place.

The reasons he gave sounded so high-sounding, logically rigorous, almost flawless.

'I roughly understand what you mean...' Her voice trembled slightly, all her thoughts tangled into a mess. 'But my mind is very confused right now.'

Mo Shaoshang added, 'Teacher Wen need not have any worries. If you agree to go out with me, during the relationship, in addition to your normal salary as a rehabilitation therapist, I will pay you an additional monthly emotional investment compensation. Also, if this relationship makes you uncomfortable, you can propose to end it at any time.'

Wen Yicong was a bit puzzled: 'Emotional investment compensation?' What was that?

'This compensation is to recognize the additional emotional labor you need to invest in this special relationship,' Mo Shaoshang's eyes were as deep as twilight, and he continued, 'I hope Teacher Wen can feel my sincerity.'

*

That night, Wen Yicong tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

She lay in bed, listening to the wind, her thoughts like a runaway horse, completely out of control. She kept replaying the violent, scorching kiss in the studio and the words Mo Shaoshang had said.

Wen Yicong turned over, facing the window.

Outside, the wind blew the clouds, the branches bent, and the leaves rustled.

Tonight in the studio, after Mo Shaoshang explained the specific meaning of 'emotional investment compensation,' she had been flustered and confused, her mind in a mess, unable to sort out her thoughts for a while. She had only hurriedly left with the words, 'I've remembered everything you said; give me some time to think,' before turning and fleeing in panic...

Wen Yicong frowned and pulled the blanket up to cover her entire head.

Her employer had promised her that during the period of dating, in addition to her normal salary, she would also receive an income called 'emotional investment compensation.'

It sounded like she wouldn't lose out no matter what.

But still, she felt something was off...

A few minutes later, she irritably grabbed her hair, finally picked up the phone beside her pillow, and lit up the screen.

She opened WeChat, found Su Wanxin's profile picture, and tapped it.

Wen Yicong: [Sis, emergency!]

Her night-owl friend replied instantly: [What???]

Wen Yicong thought carefully, choosing her words, and typed: [Ask you a question: if a man suddenly proposed going out with you, what would you do?]

Su Wanxin: [? Someone confessed to you again? Spill, who.]

Wen Yicong: [... = =]

Wen Yicong: [Answer my question first!!]

Su Wanxin: [Your question has no context]

Su Wanxin: [What to do specifically depends on the situation, of course]

Su Wanxin: [Let me ask you, what does that man look like?]

Wen Yicong thought for half a second and honestly replied: [Very handsome.]

Su Wanxin: [Rich?]

Wen Yicong: [Very rich]

Su Wanxin: [Good body?]

Wen Yicong blinked, recalling Mo Shaoshang's wild and fierce chest, abs, and V-line, her cheeks heating up, and typed: [Very good]

Su Wanxin: [Last question, do you like him?]

'...' Looking at the new message from her friend, Wen Yicong's eyes flickered.

After a moment, Wen Yicong replied: [I don't know]

Su Wanxin: [?]

Su Wanxin: [Don't know? So you have feelings?]

Su Wanxin: [Then what are you agonizing over? Totally okay]

Wen Yicong rubbed her earlobe, thought for a while, and replied: [But he and I don't know each other at all, and our family backgrounds are very different. If we suddenly start dating, will there be problems?]

Su Wanxin: [I'll ask you one thing. Will he cheat you out of money?]

Wen Yicong: ?

Wen Yicong replied without hesitation: [No.]

Su Wanxin: [Then that's it]

Su Wanxin: [Come on, my little Teacher Wen! Wake up! What era is this!]

Su Wanxin: [Remember, when dating a handsome guy, don't put yourself in the weak position, OK? As long as the handsome guy doesn't cheat us out of money, we don't lose at all!]

Wen Yicong was choked by her friend's bold remarks. She pondered for a few seconds but still felt conflicted: [What if this person asks you to go out with him and says he'll give you money every month? Don't you think that's weird, like being kept?]

Su Wanxin: [?]

Su Wanxin: [There's such a good thing?]

Su Wanxin: [Act immediately, take him down!]

Wen Yicong: [...]

Wen Yicong: [You go to sleep first, good night]

Ending the chat with her friend, Wen Yicong threw her phone aside, lay back on the bed, and continued staring at the ceiling in a daze.

Just then, a ding sounded.

Wen Yicong thought it was a reply from Su Wanxin and casually grabbed her phone.

When she looked, her gaze froze.

The new message was from a pure black night-sky avatar.

Her heartbeat quickened a little. She took a light deep breath, moved her fingertip, and tapped in.

M: [I have a question, very curious]

Wen Yicong pursed her lips, hesitated for a while, then replied stiffly: [What]

M: [Did Teacher Wen consume any sugar tonight?]

Wen Yicong was completely baffled. After a two-second silence, she continued typing stiffly: [No]

M: [But the taste in your mouth is very sweet.]

'...'

-----------------------

Author's note: Momo: Such a sweet baby. Nongnong: ...

—

Still randomly distributing 100 red envelopes