No, thank you.

Mo Qingli looked at Lu Chenyuan and said slowly,

"You pushed Lin Yuan and Ren Qian to the forefront, giving them full authority and also the space to make mistakes."

"It seems like you've never been afraid that Yuanlong would leave you."

Lu Chenyuan smiled.

"A healthy company is like a healthy child," he said.

"You can't keep it tied to you forever. You have to teach it to walk on its own, to feed itself, to face the storms of this world independently."

"A parent's responsibility isn't to walk the entire journey for them. It's to point them in the right direction when they set out—and then learn to step back gracefully."

"The same goes for the owner of a company."

"Depersonalization isn't just a slogan. It's a higher form of confidence."

Mo Qingli listened quietly.

"Step back gracefully..." she repeated softly, a complex glimmer flashing in her eyes.

She thought of the uncles in the Mo family.

They treated Mo Corporation as their private property, clutching every shred of power tightly, unwilling to let go.

They always believed that only a Mo could manage the Mo family's legacy.

If she hadn't emerged unexpectedly, Mo Corporation would likely have been consumed by internal strife.

She looked at Lu Chenyuan.

This man had built a business empire even larger than Mo Corporation, yet he could speak of "stepping back" so easily.

His vision, his magnanimity, had long transcended notions of family inheritance or corporate ownership.

What he wanted to create was a self-sustaining business ecosystem.

And her? Though she had pushed reforms with an iron will, deep down, she had never broken free from the mindset that "Mo Corporation belongs to the Mo family."

"Chenyuan," she suddenly asked, "what if, one day, the Mo family has no worthy successor? What if no one capable of upholding Mo Corporation emerges?"

This was a question she had never dared to dwell on before.

But now, she wanted to hear his answer.

Lu Chenyuan took her hand.

"Then entrust it to the most capable professionals," he said earnestly, looking into her eyes.

"Establish a family trust to hold the shares and receive dividends."

"That way, whether the Mo descendants are business prodigies or simply want to be painters or musicians, they can live comfortably and with dignity."

"And Mo Corporation can break free from the constraints of family, going further and steadier."

"Just as I once did with Lu Corporation."

But she wasn't like him.

Back then, Lu Corporation was a sinking ship—Lu Chenyuan could afford to burn his bridges.

Mo Corporation, however, was now at its peak.

And Mo Qingli had always seen herself as its guardian.

She had never considered that one day, she might become the very shackle holding it back.

At the same time, she was also a prisoner of Mo Corporation!

Lu Chenyuan's words planted a seed in her heart, subtly shifting her perspective.

After that conversation, Mo Qingli's life seemed to enter a new phase—one of greater ease.

She began restructuring her time.

Mornings were reserved for handling Mo Corporation's most critical affairs with efficiency.

Afternoons belonged entirely to her and Lu Chenyuan.

They would go to the terrace together, watering plants and pruning leaves.

Lu Chenyuan would share the agricultural knowledge he had picked up during his rural poverty alleviation work in a past life.

Which plants preferred shade, which thrived in sunlight, how to gauge soil acidity.

Mo Qingli listened with fascination, like an eager student.

She also developed a passion for calligraphy.

Lu Chenyuan sourced the finest brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones for her.

Seated by the window, she would meticulously copy the works of ancient masters.

From stiff and awkward strokes, she progressed to fluid, effortless ones.

Her heart, steeped in ink and brushwork, grew calmer and more perceptive.

Their twice-weekly outings became their most anticipated "dates."

They didn’t visit luxury malls or Michelin-starred restaurants.

Instead, Lu Chenyuan took her to Godu's art galleries, where they would spend entire afternoons.

Side by side, they would stand before a painting, discussing its light, colors, and the stories behind the artist’s strokes.

They also frequented quiet, unique secondhand bookstores.

Amid yellowed pages and the scent of ink, they whiled away the hours.

Once, they even went to see a movie like an ordinary couple.

When the lights dimmed and Lu Chenyuan quietly took her hand in the darkness, Mo Qingli’s heart skipped a beat.

She suddenly realized—

She was reliving the youthful experiences she had missed out on over the past two decades.

She remained strong, independent, and wise.

But her heart grew softer, fuller.

She understood now that relinquishing absolute control over work hadn’t cost her anything.

Instead, it had given her more.

The time to appreciate a flower in bloom.

The serenity to savor a cup of tea.

The calm to watch the sunset beside the one she loved.

She discovered that without abandoning her career, she still had room to embrace other things.

To experience a more complete, richer life.

For example…

An idea, like a seed, took root silently in her heart.

That night,

after washing up, they lay in bed.

As usual, Lu Chenyuan picked up a book on J Country’s history, planning to read a little before sleep.

But Mo Qingli took it from his hands.

"Chenyuan," she turned to face him.

"Hmm?" He set the book aside, studying her with slight puzzlement.

Tonight, her eyes seemed different—

bright, as if filled with starlight.

"I was reading a parenting magazine today," she said suddenly.

Lu Chenyuan froze.

"The article mentioned that babies can hear outside sounds while still in the womb."

"That fathers should talk to them often, tell them stories through their mother’s belly."

Her voice was soft, gentle.

Yet each word rippled through Lu Chenyuan’s calm heart like a pebble.

He wasn’t a fool.

He understood instantly.

His breath grew uneven.

His Adam’s apple bobbed unconsciously.

He gazed at her, at the mingled shyness, anticipation, and resolve in her eyes.

His heart flooded with an indescribable surge of joy and tenderness.

He turned and pulled her tightly into his arms.

Their warmth seeped through thin sleepwear, hearts beating against each other.

When passion rose, everything fell into place naturally.

Lu Chenyuan’s breathing grew heavier.

Propping himself up, he instinctively reached for the nightstand.

But a soft hand caught his wrist.

"Chenyuan." Mo Qingli’s voice trembled faintly in the quiet dark.

"Don’t."

Lu Chenyuan stilled.

He looked down, meeting her luminous eyes in the dim light.

Within it lay a thousand unspoken words.

Yet in the end, they all condensed into a single invitation—one he understood.

A solemn promise, woven with the weight of the future.

He could no longer restrain himself.

Lowering his head, he answered her with a kiss deeper and more lingering than any before, pouring his soul into the silent reply.

Outside, moonlight spilled like liquid silver.

Inside, the room hummed with an intoxicating warmth.

This stolen respite, this gilded cage, birthed its most radiant hope on this very night.