Punishment.

Pei Xizhou accepted Wen Yicong’s friend request.

After a simple greeting, to Wen Yicong’s surprise, Pei Xizhou sent another message.

[Teacher Wen, forgive the intrusion, but did Old Master Shen Ruiqing leave a piece of clothing at the hospital? It is light gray.]

Wen Yicong stared at the text, stunned, and then frowned.

Her grandfather had been discharged for quite some time, and she truly had not noticed if anything was missing. After pondering for two seconds, unsure of the answer, she simply exited WeChat, found a number in her contacts, and dialed.

Two beeps sounded in the receiver, and then the line connected.

Her grandmother’s smiling voice came from the other end: 'What is it, Nongnong? Calling at this hour, do you miss Grandma or Grandpa?'

Hearing her grandmother’s familiar and affectionate tone, the corners of Wen Yicong’s mouth curved upward involuntarily, and her voice took on a hint of coquettishness: 'I miss you both.' After a pause, she cut to the point: 'By the way, Grandma, when Grandpa was hospitalized last time, did he leave a coat at the hospital and forget to bring it home?'

As soon as the words left her lips, a second later, her grandmother slapped her thigh on the other end of the line, her voice rising sharply: 'Oh my! I was just wondering why I could not find that gray wool sweater of your grandfather’s! That is right, I brought it to the hospital for him! There was heating in the hospital, so he did not have a chance to wear it, and I just stuffed it into the cabinet. I was so busy when we were discharged that I completely forgot about it!'

As her grandmother chattered on, Wen Yicong pictured the old woman gesticulating on the other end of the line and could not help but chuckle.

'...Hey, Nongnong, how did you know about this?' her grandmother asked suspiciously.

'Doctor Pei just asked me about it,' Wen Yicong explained patiently to her grandmother. 'He said there was a light gray garment in Grandpa’s old locker and he was not sure if it was ours, so I hurried to ask you.'

'Yes, yes, yes, it is your grandfather’s!' With her lost item recovered, her grandmother was in an unexpectedly good mood and repeatedly instructed: 'Nongnong, hurry and ask Doctor Pei to help us keep it safe. I will go to the hospital to get it from him another day! And help us thank him, too! This young man is truly kind. He took such good care of your grandfather when he was hospitalized, and even now, after discharge, he is still worrying about these things...'

'I know,' Wen Yicong agreed with a smile. 'I will be sure to thank Doctor Pei properly.'

After hanging up, she switched back to the WeChat interface and typed with her fingertips: Yes, is it a gray wool sweater? It is my grandfather’s. Thank you, Doctor Pei.

Pei Xizhou replied quickly: The garment was left in the old master’s locker, so I guessed it belonged to you.

Immediately following was another message: I have kept the garment safe for the old master. If it is convenient, send me an address, and I will deliver it to you.

After reading this, Wen Yicong’s eyes widened, and she hurriedly typed: No need. Doctor Pei, we can just come and pick it up when you are free. How could I trouble you to make a special trip...

Pei Xizhou: Teacher Wen, you are being too formal.

Pei Xizhou: How about this. I happen to be free tomorrow, so let us have dinner together, and I can bring the old master’s garment to you then?

Wen Yicong stared at the text and blinked.

Tomorrow was her day off.

Having dinner together—did that seem acceptable?

Furthermore, when her grandfather was hospitalized, Doctor Pei had taken such good care of him; she really should thank this kind and gentle angel in white. Treating him to a meal was both a way to return a favor and a way to make a friend, and it would also fulfill a wish for Ms. Shen Yulan.

Thinking this over, Wen Yicong made up her mind, her fingertips dancing across the screen: Alright. What would Doctor Pei like to eat?

Pei Xizhou: I am not a picky eater, Teacher Wen, you decide.

Wen Yicong tilted her head and thought for a moment, and a Cantonese restaurant near her workplace popped into her head.

The Cantonese restaurant had an elegant environment, good food, and prices that were not too high—well within her budget.

Wen Yicong pondered and replied: OKK. I will send you the address later.

Pei Xizhou: Good.

*

In a high-end apartment in Jinghai, on the top floor.

Pei Xizhou stood on the balcony, a glass of sake in hand, sipping it leisurely against the night breeze.

It was late autumn, and the chill of early winter had already seeped into the wind. He seemed entirely unaware, wearing only a thin white top, letting the night breeze ruffle his hair. Outside the balcony, the bustling night view of Jinghai was laid out before him; the myriad lights were like a cascading galaxy, breathtakingly beautiful.

Pei Xizhou lowered his eyes, staring at the cartoon avatar on his phone screen.

He waited quietly for about five minutes.

With a 'ding,' a new WeChat message arrived.

Pei Xizhou lit up his phone screen to check.

A kitten avatar had sent a location address, accompanied by the text: Doctor Pei, is Cantonese food okay? followed by a tentative, cute emoji.

He curved his lips, a very faint smile blooming, and his slender fingers tapped the screen to reply 'Good.'

After sending it, he added another line: Tomorrow at six in the evening, I will come to Mo Family Manor to pick you up.

Less than half a minute later, the other party replied: No need, Doctor Pei, let us just meet at the restaurant.

Pei Xizhou: Are you sure you can get out on your own?

He sent the message.

The other side fell into a brief silence.

Above the dialogue box, the 'other party is typing' prompt flashed and vanished, then flashed again.

Pei Xizhou watched with an expressionless face. A moment later, a new message entered his line of sight: ...Alright.

Wen Yicong: I will respectfully obey your instructions, then, thank you, Doctor Pei.

Pei Xizhou: You are welcome, Teacher Wen.

After replying to this final message, Pei Xizhou raised an eyebrow, as if he had suddenly remembered something. Exiting the chat with the cartoon kitten, he moved his fingertips to enter another dialogue box.

At the top of the interface, there was no nickname.

In the center of the interface, the chat history contained only the message from several minutes ago: 'Message sent to the wrong person, apologies.'

And the other party’s avatar was a piece of pure black, without a single impurity, like an abyss capable of swallowing all light.

Pei Xizhou casually sent a symbol over.

As if expected, the system immediately popped up a prompt: The other party has enabled friend verification, you are not their friend. Please send a friend verification request first; you can only chat after the other party accepts.

Looking at this ridiculous system prompt, Pei Xizhou actually began to laugh.

The smile did not reach his eyes; there was no joy in it, but rather it seemed like some long-repressed distortion had finally found a crack, spreading inch by inch from the corners of his mouth to his entire face.

Following that, laughter escaped from the depths of his throat. Low, heavy, and hoarse, like the low call of a nocturnal animal.

Pei Xizhou laughed harder and more exaggeratedly, to the point that his shoulders began to tremble slightly, the veins on the hand holding the glass bulged, and the sake in the cup rippled wildly.

At this moment, the mask of being gentle as jade shattered into pieces.

Pei Xizhou had discovered something extremely interesting, catching a glimpse of a secret that excited him to the core.

The night wind whistled past, carrying away the man’s frantic laughter into the brilliant night sky, leaving not a trace behind.

*

The next afternoon.

A silver-gray Bugatti Veyron sped along, tearing through the desolation of the Jinghai suburbs.

The roar of the engine echoed in the empty outskirts, startling a flock of crows perched on the branches of dead trees. The car was like a silver bolt of lightning, sweeping past a long-abandoned factory district and fields of overgrown wild grass, finally coming to a stop in front of the gate of a long-forgotten derelict factory.

The car stopped, the door opened.

A tall figure stepped out from the driver’s seat.

The man was dressed in a light-colored casual hoodie, wearing a black baseball cap, revealing only his smooth jawline and thin, slightly pursed lips. Because the brim of the cap was pulled too low, a pair of temperatureless eyes were vaguely visible in the dark shadow.

He was expressionless as he walked straight into the factory.

The iron door creaked behind him, and the rusted hinges let out a sharp screeching sound.

Inside the factory, there were rusted machines everywhere, dilapidated and ruinous, and the air was filled with the scent of mold and oxidized metal.

Beside a scrapped machine tool, a middle-aged foreigner had long been waiting.

The man had blonde hair and blue eyes, dressed in a suit and leather shoes, looking completely out of place in the surrounding decay. He was about fifty years old, with deep-set features and a faint, lingering smile at the corners of his mouth, exuding the elegance of an old-school European gentleman from the inside out.

Seeing the man approach, he nodded slightly, took a cowhide file folder from his inner suit pocket, and handed it over with both hands.

The man reached out to take it, but did not open it, did not flip through it, and did not spare it a second glance before turning and walking away.

There was not a single word of exchange between them.

The middle-aged foreigner watched the young man’s retreating back, the corners of his mouth slowly curling into an intriguing arc, and then, speaking in broken Chinese, he said: 'Happy cooperation, Mr. Pei.'

Hearing this, the man’s footsteps paused for half a second.

The next instant, he continued walking forward, never looking back, his figure soon disappearing into the afterglow of the setting sun.

The middle-aged foreigner stood in place, watching that figure vanish, the smile on his lips growing thicker.

'Interessante.'

Interesting.

*

At dusk, the entire Mo Family Manor was shrouded in a hazy halo.

Wen Yicong changed her clothes and went to the walk-in closet to check the mirror.

She looked up.

The girl in the mirror was dressed elegantly and appropriately, neither too casual nor too formal.

Yes, not bad.

Wen Yicong smiled with satisfaction and turned to go downstairs.

Just as she reached the first-floor lobby, she ran into Master Heng.

'Good evening, Teacher Wen,' Master Heng said with a smile. He paused slightly, his gaze lingering on her for a moment, 'Is Teacher Wen going out?'

Wen Yicong nodded, beaming: 'Yes, I have dinner plans with a friend.'

Hearing this, the smile on Master Heng’s face became subtle, and then he said in a gentle, kindly voice: 'Teacher Wen, the Master is home today.'

Hearing this, Wen Yicong was suddenly stunned.

If she remembered correctly, Mo Shaoshang had said yesterday that he would be very busy today, and she had assumed he had official business to handle and would be leaving early and returning late as usual...

He was actually home? Then why had she not seen him all day?

Just as Wen Yicong was wondering, she heard Master Heng say: 'Go and tell the Master.' The rigorous and gentle old man turned slightly to the side, gesturing with an open hand: 'In the study.'

'...' Wen Yicong pursed her lips.

Mo Shaoshang was the master of this place; if she was going out, it was indeed necessary to inform him. This was basic courtesy, and also... the rule she had come to understand during the time she had lived in Mo Family Manor.

'Yes, alright. Master Heng, I understand. Thank you for the reminder.'

Master Heng lowered his eyes, smiling without a word, and walked away.

And so, harboring a sense of inexplicable trepidation, Wen Yicong went to the third floor of the villa and stood still before that familiar dark wooden door.

She took a deep breath, steadied her heart, and then raised her hand to knock on the door.

'Knock, knock.'

The next second, a detached voice came from inside, cool and devoid of emotional fluctuation.

'What is it.'

'Ah, Mr. Mo, it is me,' Wen Yicong stammered, feeling like a student facing a principal, her voice rising involuntarily. 'I am going out for dinner in a bit and might be back late. I specifically came to tell you.'

There was a moment of silence inside the room.

As if the playback speed had been set to 0.5x, this moment of silence was infinitely prolonged.

After a long while, the man’s voice came from inside again, three concise words: 'I know.'

Um...

He knows?

Just like that?

Wen Yicong was somewhat surprised and blinked.

She had not expected it to be so easy to pass; the tight string in her heart suddenly loosened, and light danced in her bright eyes as she said excitedly: 'Then I will be going! Goodbye, Mr. Mo.'

'Goodbye.'

Separated by the door, the light footsteps gradually faded away, finally disappearing at the end of the corridor.

Inside the study.

Mo Shaoshang sat behind the massive desk, with several documents spread out before him, the fountain pen in his hand hovering above the paper, long unfallen.

Not until the footsteps outside the door had completely vanished did he slowly lift his eyelids.

About five minutes later.

The curtains of the third-floor study were half-open, and a dark figure stood by the window, silent and motionless.

The man’s blue-black eyes were gloomy and still, quietly watching the young girl’s retreating back through his gold-rimmed glasses and the glass window.

She was still as beautiful as ever today.

The light apricot-colored knit sweater radiated a soft luster in the sunset, and her off-white long skirt swayed gently with her steps. It was clear the girl was in a good mood, for her steps were light, like a little bird hopping in the forest.

the little bird broke through the iron cage, flew to the roadside outside the manor’s iron gate, and stopped.

Then, she lowered her little head to look at her phone.

She looked up and peered around.

Then lowered her head to look at her phone again.

Not long after, a silver-gray Bugatti Veyron drove steadily from the depths of the twilight and stopped in front of her.

The car door opened, a friendly smile bloomed on her lips, and she bent down to sit inside.

The windows of the Bugatti Veyron were tinted with anti-peeping film; looking from the outside in, it was pitch black, and nothing could be seen.

Just then, the driver’s side window lowered a crack, and a hand wearing a wristwatch reached out to hand a parking card to the security guard at the gate.

Mo Shaoshang narrowed his eyes.

He recognized this watch, and of course, he recognized this hand.

In a short while, the sound of the car engine tore through the night, soon disappearing into the depths of the twilight.

Behind the window of the third-floor study, a cold light flashed across the blue-black eyes, but it was only for a brief moment. The next second, the curtains fell, and the entire manor returned to peace.

*

The dinner location was in the city center.

Pei Xizhou arrived ten minutes ahead of the agreed time. He parked the car on the side of the road, turned off the engine, leaned back, and rested in the driver’s seat, his fingers tapping the steering wheel absentmindedly.

Through the car window, he watched the direction of Mo Family Manor quietly.

This ancient, massive manor, looked up to by countless people and burying countless secrets, stood silently in the twilight, like a giant beast lurking in the heart of Jinghai.

So gorgeous, and yet so filthy...

In a moment, a slender figure walked out of the manor gate.

Pei Xizhou regained his focus, his gaze falling on that figure, a gentle smile blooming on his lips.

The young girl’s pace was somewhat reserved at first, but as the distance closed, that tension gradually dissipated. She opened the car door and sat in the passenger seat, and a very light, sweet fragrance drifted into the cabin along with her.

'Hello, Doctor Pei,' she said with a smile, her eyes curving.

Pei Xizhou’s tone was as elegant as ever: 'Hello, Teacher Wen.'

After some simple pleasantries, the car started and drove into the traffic within the twilight.

The dinner proceeded in a relaxed and pleasant atmosphere.

In all honesty, Pei Xizhou was a very good dining companion. He had a gentle personality and was witty in conversation, knowing both when to introduce topics and when to listen. Sometimes they chatted about interesting things at work, sometimes about his experiences studying abroad, his tone relaxed and natural; talking with such a friend, Wen Yicong felt as if she were 'bathed in a spring breeze.'

As the meal was ending, Pei Xizhou took out a neatly folded gray wool sweater and handed it to her, along with a box of exquisite snacks.

'A treat for Teacher Wen to try,' he said with a smile. 'An old-fashioned shop near the hospital. Their Osmanthus Cake is very famous. I tried it once and thought it was good, so when I passed by today, I bought some extra on a whim.'

Wen Yicong initially wanted to refuse, but Pei Xizhou’s kindness was hard to decline, so she could not push it away and had to accept the snack box.

The night deepened, and the stars and moon hung high.

Around nine-thirty in the evening, the Bugatti Veyron stopped once again in front of the gate of Mo Family Manor.

Wen Yicong got out of the car holding the wool sweater and the snack box, waved at Pei Xizhou inside the car, and said sincerely: 'Thank you for the Osmanthus Cake. Drive safely, bye-bye!'

'Bye-bye.' Pei Xizhou smiled and nodded, watching that slender figure disappear into the depths of the manor.

The car window rose slowly.

Through the narrowing gap of the window, Pei Xizhou took a deep look at this silent manor, then withdrew his gaze with an expressionless face and stepped on the accelerator.

With the car turned around, the Bugatti Veyron sped off into the night.

*

Having retrieved her grandfather’s wool sweater and unexpectedly gained a box of Osmanthus Cake, Wen Yicong was in a good mood. She walked with a light step, humming a little tune, and headed straight for the main residence.

Everything had gone smoothly tonight.

And, she finally understood why her mother always encouraged her to be friends with Doctor Pei. He was truly a good person, attentive and thoughtful, and the Osmanthus Cake he gave her smelled very fragrant and looked quite delicious...

Wen Yicong lowered her eyes, thinking, when suddenly, her steps faltered.

Ahead, a tall, slender figure stood quietly at the end of the path.

The light spilled from behind the person, stretching his shadow long, almost reaching Wen Yicong’s feet. The other party seemed to have been waiting for a long time, motionless, like a silent stone statue.

It was Lin Ke.

Wen Yicong blinked and subconsciously slowed her pace. At the same time, the light and happy feeling in her heart was pressed down by some invisible force, sinking down bit by bit.

After a moment, she walked up and smiled as naturally as possible: 'Assistant Lin, have you not finished work yet?'

Lin Ke wore his usual scholarly smile, and his tone was as respectful as ever: 'The Master instructed me to wait here for Teacher Wen.'

'Wait for me?' Wen Yicong’s heart tightened inexplicably, extremely puzzled, 'Is something the matter?'

Lin Ke turned slightly to the side and made a 'please' gesture.

This action made Wen Yicong’s spine feel a bit cold.

'The Master invites you to the Wine Cellar,' Lin Ke said gently.

Wen Yicong: '...'

Wen Yicong’s breathing stopped for an instant.

Wine Cellar.

These two words were like a key, instantly releasing those scorching, dark scenes from the depths of her memory.

A stormy night, an out-of-control kiss, burning breath,

And those blue-black eyes that quietly watched her... morbid and profound, surging with intense desire, as if they wanted to tear her apart and swallow her whole.

She did not want to go.

But, Lin Ke had waited specifically for her here; if she did not go... would it anger her employer?

After an internal struggle, after a long while, Wen Yicong bit her lip and bit the bullet, compromising.

'Alright. I understand.'

She turned around after speaking and walked toward the main villa.

Her steps became slower and heavier; with every step she took, her heartbeat quickened.

Even the fragrance of the Osmanthus Cake in her hand became unsettling at this moment, as if it were repeatedly reminding her that she had just had dinner with another man and had been chatting happily...

With her thoughts flying, Wen Yicong reached the door to the basement.

Pushing the door open, a cold, sharp breath rushed toward her, mixed with the rich aroma of oak barrels and aged spirits.

The light suddenly dimmed.

Only a few wall lamps on both sides of the corridor were lit, the dim, yellow halo barely outlining the path, while deeper inside was thick darkness, making one think of an insatiable giant mouth waiting for prey to throw itself into the trap.

Wen Yicong walked along the passage, the slight echo of her shoe soles hitting the floor magnified infinitely in the silent space, one step, and then another.

She subconsciously pressed her steps lighter and slower, as if afraid of waking a sleeping beast.

The Wine Cellar was reached.

Dim, quiet, filled with the aroma of wine, rows of neatly arranged wine racks cast crisscrossing shadows in the dim light, making one feel panicked.

Gulp.

Wen Yicong swallowed her saliva and looked around.

Mo Shaoshang was nowhere to be seen.

Just as she was puzzled and confused, unexpectedly, a voice came out of the blue from the direction of the art studio, light and faint, as calm and composed as if discussing a frozen lake.

'Did you have a good time.'

Wen Yicong was startled and whipped her head around.

A dark figure stood at the doorway of the art studio.

Mo Shaoshang stood in the center of the door frame, behind him the only lonely lamp in the studio. The light pierced from behind the man, outlining his silhouette with sharp angles, but hid his face in the shadows, blurring his features, leaving only his eyes.

Those blue-black eyes, piercing through the dim light and the suffocating room, were quietly staring at her, unblinking.

Wen Yicong almost gasped.

As her gaze moved downward, she saw that the white shirt Mo Shaoshang always kept clean and spotless was mottled and messy with paint. Chest, cuffs, hem... everywhere were splashed paint marks, various colors mixed together, making him look frantic and delirious, like an unfinished abstract masterpiece, or like a Satan walking out of a dark oil painting.

Several smears of bright red even stained that cold face. A long red mark on his right cheek snaked out, like blood, like the mark of a blade, or like a totem symbolizing wildness and conquest in a primitive tribe.

Eerie and handsome, morbid and dangerous.

Wen Yicong’s heart trembled violently.

She heard the sound of her own blood rushing wildly through her veins, heard her own frantic heartbeat.

At the art studio, Mo Shaoshang stared at her and walked toward her, step by step, slowly.

His pace was neither fast nor slow, even composed and relaxed, yet it carried an undeniable sense of oppression.

Three meters.

Two meters.

One meter.

He stopped in front of her, within arm’s reach.

The familiar cold scent of cedarwood came over her overwhelmingly, mixed with the scent of paint, and a trace of something... blood?

Wen Yicong’s heart thundered, her palms sweaty, and it took several seconds for her to find her voice: 'I... I went to find Doctor Pei to get the clothes Grandpa left at the hospital, and treated him to a meal on the way...'

At the same time these words fell, Mo Shaoshang’s tall figure had completely enveloped her. He was far too much taller than her; at this close distance, she had to tilt her head slightly to see his face.

Within her field of vision, the man reached out.

Slender, slightly cool fingers, light and soft, pinched her petite chin.

The force was clearly not heavy, yet it was like an iron band, imprisoning her so she had nowhere to escape.

Mo Shaoshang lowered his eyes, gazing at her.

In his blue-black eyes surged infatuation, paranoia, madness, possession, and a trace of almost pious focus.

'Mr. Mo...' Wen Yicong spoke under his gaze, her voice trembling slightly, wanting to say something, wanting to explain something.

'Today,' his thumb gently stroked her jawline, the touch soft, like a dream, 'I was particularly annoyed.'

Wen Yicong opened her mouth, stopping mid-sentence.

The man continued to lower his head, leaning close to her, his thin lips parted slightly, and he touched her lips gently.

Then, just as her mind was about to lose itself, she heard the man speak, his voice hoarse and dangerous, spitting out a sentence like a snake flicking its tongue: 'Bella piccola, indovina come ti punirò?'

—Little cutie, guess. How will I punish you?

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

Author’s note: Momo: Little cutie is not being good, time for punishment.