Please come in.

As the words landed, Wen Yicong was rooted to the spot, while at the same time all the blood in her body surged to her head, then froze in an instant.

Almost reflexively, she jerked her head up.

The man's black back was tall and noble, still walking unhurriedly forward, not even stopping to wait for her answer.

What had he just asked her?

Why did she think he was so fierce...

All wishful thinking was shattered completely. Oh my god—he had indeed seen it!

Tick, tock, two seconds slipped by.

On the third second, Wen Yicong closed her eyes in despair, barely managing to find her voice.

"You, you mean that text message?" Her tongue tied, both cheeks hot enough to fry an egg. "That was just a misunderstanding. I slipped and typed the wrong character, I absolutely did not mean to speak ill of you. I'm very sorry."

Hearing this answer, Mo Shaoshang, who was walking ahead, paused slightly, turned back, and looked behind him.

The young therapist was incoherent, head down, not daring to look at him, her slender fingers clutching the hem of her clothes, looking like a child who had made a mistake, nervous and at a loss.

Mo Shaoshang's eyelids drooped slightly, his blue-black eyes lingered on that flushed face for a moment, his gaze calm yet penetrating.

Wen Yicong didn't dare meet his eyes, could only steel herself and stand still.

Just as she was about to suffocate under this gaze, the other finally reacted.

He casually "hmm"ed, accepting this ridiculous, absurd, and full-of-holes explanation. Then he turned back and continued walking toward the dining room.

Wen Yicong quietly raised her head.

Did he believe it? Or was he just too lazy to pursue it?

Her mind was in a mess, her heart still pounding.

Wen Yicong didn't dare and didn't have time to think deeply, could only steady herself and quicken her pace to catch up.

*

The dining room continued the overall style of Mo Manor—luxurious yet restrained, full of style. The long table was covered with a white tablecloth, the tableware mainly traditional Chinese bone china, the glaze smooth as jade, gleaming.

From the first second she stepped in, Wen Yicong felt an indescribable oppression. But to her surprise, the atmosphere of the dining room was different from the cold and rigid she had imagined.

The aroma of food filled the air.

Beside the long table was a dedicated children's high chair, on which a small, delicate figure sat quietly. The butler Heng Shu stood beside the high chair, a smile at the corner of his mouth, his eyes kind with a hint of pity.

Wen Yicong was slightly startled.

"Sir, Teacher Wen." Seeing the two enter, Heng Shu respectfully greeted them.

Wen Yicong returned a smile to Heng Shu, then turned her gaze again to the beautiful little boy like an angel.

It was Airi.

Compared to their last meeting in the garden, this time Airi seemed even more immersed in his own world—those clear blue eyes were empty and confused, staring at a point in the void ahead, long eyelashes fluttering, reminiscent of fragile young butterflies. His little hands unconsciously patted the tray of the high chair, endlessly enjoying it, as if the irregular "slap slap" sound made him feel comfortable and relaxed.

Just then, Mo Shaoshang reached out and pulled out a dining chair, saying flatly, "Teacher Wen, please sit."

Wen Yicong woke up as if from a dream. Slightly embarrassed, she softly thanked him and sat down.

The other nodded slightly and took his seat at the head of the table.

After a moment, Wen Yicong took a deep breath, forcibly suppressed her nervousness facing Mo Shaoshang, and turned all her attention to Airi.

After observing Airi for a few seconds, she adjusted her sitting position to be as level with the child as possible, smiled softly and said, "Airi, hello. I'm Teacher Wen."

As expected, Airi gave no response. He seemed completely unaware that a stranger had appeared around him, still staring blankly and stubbornly patting his little table.

Heng Shu spoke in a low voice: "Teacher Wen, the young master..."

"It's okay." Wen Yicong's smile was gentle. "I know, no rush."

For ASD Children, especially moderate to severe cases, building trust requires great patience. Forcing eye contact or response would only backfire.

Just then, a staff member in chef's uniform brought up a bowl of soup.

The steaming chicken soup was fragrant, stirring the taste buds.

Wen Yicong keenly noticed that Airi's little nose twitched almost imperceptibly, his gaze focused for a moment, briefly sweeping over the soup pot.

Airi patted the table, making some mechanical sounds randomly.

Wen Yicong's eyes lit up, realizing an opportunity had come.

After thinking for a few seconds, she turned and tentatively asked, "Mr. Mo, this chicken soup was made by my mother herself, very light, without any stimulating seasonings. Can Airi have a little?"

Mo Shaoshang paused in his movement, looked up at her, his gaze deep as the sea, with a hint of scrutiny. After a moment, he nodded permission.

Heng Shu brought a clean small bowl. Wen Yicong carefully ladled out a little, gently blowing on it, and said softly, "The chicken soup is delicious, Airi wants some too, right? Come, Teacher Wen will blow it cool for you..."

Mo Shaoshang's gaze fell on the young therapist.

All the images of her in his field of vision were infinitely magnified, spreading, eroding.

Every detail was captured.

Her face was slightly turned, the afterglow of the setting sun outlining her curved brows and slightly parted lips, soft lines, as if carrying a layer of quiet and gentle light. The tone coaxing the child had a wonderful rhythm, occasionally puffing her cheeks to blow a gentle breath on the soup surface, ripples spreading, her lips tempting.

Mo Shaoshang took a light sip of tea.

Not far away.

Airi did not look at Wen Yicong, but did not show strong resistance to the food brought to his mouth.

Finally, on Wen Yicong's fourth attempt, the child was defeated by the cravings in his stomach, his little mouth opening a crack.

Wen Yicong was overjoyed and immediately fed a small spoonful of chicken soup into his mouth.

"Wow! Airi is great!" She smiled and affirmed.

"Ah, ah." Airi muttered, continuing to make meaningless sounds.

Wen Yicong pressed on, continuing to feed the child soup little by little.

Across the table.

Mo Shaoshang's face was calm, silently watching this scene, his fingers unconsciously stroking the cold glass body, lost in thought.

Dinner proceeded in a subtle atmosphere. After a while, Airi turned his head away, no longer accepting any food, and started fussing by patting the table.

Wen Yicong watched Airi's little face and patiently guided: "Full." She took Airi's little hand and touched his round little belly. "Full."

After a few times, Airi finally tried to pronounce: "Bao...!"

"Very good!" Wen Yicong gave the child a thumbs up.

Heng Shu took Airi away to play.

The air in the dining room suddenly became quiet, so quiet that Wen Yicong could even hear the faint sound of wind outside the window.

She felt a little uncomfortable.

For some reason, being alone with Mo Shaoshang always made her inexplicably nervous...

Thinking, Wen Yicong secretly glanced up at the head of the table.

The man was eating elegantly, his expression cold, showing no emotion.

An unsettling silence spread through the space.

After a moment, Wen Yicong cleared her throat and decided to say something to break the silence.

"Mr. Mo." She put down her chopsticks, trying to use a relaxed and peaceful conversational tone. "I saw Airi's file, he has been living abroad before, I thought he only knew Italian."

Mo Shaoshang lightly wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin, his movements unhurried. After a moment, he raised his calm eyes and looked at her.

"Our family has half Italian blood, but Chinese is the first mother tongue. Airi has been exposed to a Chinese environment since childhood."

His voice was low and calm, faint, but with a sense of distance and authority that made people dare not ignore.

"I see." Wen Yicong nodded.

She pondered for a moment, then when she spoke again, her whole state was noticeably more relaxed, her eyes professional and serious. "Mr. Mo, based on my preliminary observation today, Airi's condition is actually not very bad. He does have some eye contact with people, and also has a small amount of spontaneous language, which is much better than I expected. Currently, Airi's core obstacles are still in social communication and stereotyped behaviors."

Wen Yicong briefly explained some of her professional views, then paused for a few seconds, her tone carrying a hint of tentativeness.

"Um... may I ask, which day of the week are you relatively free?"

Hearing this, Mo Shaoshang's blue-black eyes showed a trace of inquiry. "Why do you ask?"

Wen Yicong patiently explained: "Last time I also told you, family intervention is a crucial part. The participation and skill use of the caregiver can greatly improve the intervention effect. I need to regularly arrange lessons for you, teach you some techniques and methods that can be used in daily life, such as how to interact effectively with Airi, how to interpret his behavioral signals, how to combine our target tasks with games... I know you are very busy, but I still hope you can take time to learn with me."

After speaking, she waited quietly for his reply.

Mo Shaoshang continued to look at Wen Yicong.

The light in the dining room fell like golden mist, into the young girl's eyes, making her eyes clear almost to transparency, yet with a stubborn and mature seriousness.

Inexplicably cute.

Mo Shaoshang suddenly curved the corner of his mouth very lightly: "I am free tonight."

"Huh?" Wen Yicong was stunned, not reacting.

Mo Shaoshang's blue-black eyes still looked directly at her, repeated, clear and distinct: "Tonight."

"..."

"At eight o'clock tonight, Teacher Wen can come to the Study Room to give me a lesson."

"Oh, okay." Wen Yicong was intimidated by the man's imposing manner, nodded obediently like a chick pecking rice. "See you at eight tonight."

Mo Shaoshang: "What do I need to prepare?"

"I have all the lesson materials ready." She answered subconsciously. "Just bring yourself."

*

Outside the window, the sunset had completely sunk, leaving only a gorgeous purple-red afterglow at the edge of the sky. Mo Manor was shrouded in twilight, solemn and mysterious.

After dinner, Wen Yicong returned alone to her room on the third floor.

Closing the door, she touched her chest.

Her heart was pounding like a rabbit in her chest.

Strange.

Why was her heart beating so fast? Her face was also hot...

She had only made an appointment with Mo Shaoshang to go to the Study Room to give him a professional lesson, why did it feel like she was going to some dangerous battle?

Thinking wildly like this for a while, Wen Yicong shook her head and forced herself to calm down. After simply organizing the luggage she had brought, she took out her professional books, perked up, and began to prepare for the evening lesson.

But after flipping through for a long time, she couldn't read a single word on the page.

She covered her face with the book in frustration.

Completely uncontrollably, a pair of cold and deep blue-black eyes kept appearing in her mind, staring straight at her, with hidden currents, deep and indistinguishable.

Time passed slowly in anxiety.

The hour hand on the clock pointed to exactly 7:50.

Wen Yicong saw that it was almost time, picked up the lesson materials, checked her clothes in the mirror, relaxed her facial muscles, confirmed that she looked natural, and then opened the door and walked out.

The corridor was eerily quiet.

The closer she got to the two solid wood doors of the Study Room, the faster her heartbeat became.

Finally she stood still.

Wen Yicong took a deep breath, raised her hand, and gently knocked on the door.

"Knock knock."

There seemed to be a moment of silence inside the door, then the door was opened.

Wen Yicong's gaze involuntarily lifted.

Mo Shaoshang was still in the same attire as at dinner: black shirt, black trousers, the chain of his gold-rimmed glasses hanging down on both sides of his cheeks, gleaming with a cold luster. The light inside the room was slightly dim, and he stood in a dark shadow, like a blade sheathed in velvet, elegant in outline but cold in edge.

Similarly, Mo Shaoshang was also looking at her.

From Mo Shaoshang's perspective, the young therapist appeared at the door, looking up at him. She seemed to have just washed her face, the stray hairs at her temples still a little damp, her delicate face clean and fair, but stained with a distinct blush, spreading all the way to her ears.

She was visibly nervous, her lips slightly pursed, her hands unconsciously clasped in front of her, like a deer that had strayed into a predator's territory, pure, innocent, yet with an irresistible attraction.

A gust of wind blew, and under the moonlight, the shadows of the garden leaves swayed.

In the corner of the Study Room, inside the constant-temperature glass box, an albino snake crawled slowly in the darkness, its vertical pupils cold, silently approaching its prey.

Mo Shaoshang's gaze lingered on the girl's flushed cheeks and damp stray hairs for a moment, then he slightly stepped aside to make way.

"Please come in," he said calmly.

Author's note:

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

Snake: Baby sister is so cute, going to be eaten by a venomous snake.

Nongnong (not afraid): Your mouth is so small, how can you eat me, hmph.

Snake: Silly Baby, it's another super big venomous snake.

Nongnong: ...Huh?

Momo: Baby want some soup?

Nongnong: ?

Snake: ???

Momo: Heng Shu, make snake soup tonight.

Snake:

————

Continue with red envelopes for everyone~ Dear readers, remember to leave comments and water nutrient solution.