**49**

Zhu Jia stood beside the desk, arms crossed, her lips pressed into a thin line, clearly displeased.

Mo Yichen rose to his feet, gave Assistant Lin a look, and Lin immediately rushed to the sofa to stay with Xiao Wen.

Glancing at the mess on the desk, Mo Yichen walked over to Zhu Jia. “Don’t be angry. These aren’t important documents. If they’re torn, they’re torn.”

“If he doesn’t get punished for tearing these now, what if he destroys something important in the future?”

“I’ve already educated him. It’ll take time.” Mo Yichen gently pushed Zhu Jia into the executive chair and began tidying up the scattered papers on the desk.

“You’re the one spoiling him, and now he’s becoming harder to discipline.” Zhu Jia was still fuming. Every time she tried to educate Xiao Wen, Mo Yichen would step in with his indulgent fatherly approach.

“Alright, I won’t interfere next time.” Mo Yichen chuckled, placing his hands on her shoulders and massaging them.

On the sofa, Assistant Lin pretended to focus on Xiao Wen, but he was all ears. Outwardly calm, he was inwardly shocked.

Is this really the same Mo Yichen who commands boardrooms full of senior executives with a cold and stern demeanor?

Assistant Lin discreetly wiped his forehead, uneasy at witnessing such a rare scene. Am I about to get fired for overhearing this?

From the corner of his ear, Lin heard Mo Yichen’s soft, coaxing voice: “Didn’t you say you wanted to start a business? I came across some promising business plans. Take them home, study them, and draft your own version. If you’re unsure about anything, ask me.”

“Hmm…” Zhu Jia’s tone softened, no longer angry.

Just as Lin was breathing a sigh of relief, Zhu Jia’s playful voice rang out again, “Hey! Don’t press there—it tickles!”

“How about here?”

“Not there either… It’s even worse!”

“Mo Yichen! Are you doing this on purpose?!”

Lin lowered his head further, deeply regretting his presence. Why didn’t I just leave earlier? Witnessing this could be the end of my career!

Xiao Wen, on the other hand, stared curiously at the bespectacled uncle on the sofa. This uncle seems nice—he plays with me. But he looks a little sad. Did Mommy scold him too? Poor uncle.

With a serious expression, Xiao Wen offered his candy. “Candy… candy.” Finally, the uncle smiled!

See? Even grown-ups like candy!

After leaving the office, Mo Yichen took Zhu Jia and Xiao Wen to a trendy new restaurant nearby that had been buzzing on social media. A crowd of young people lined up outside.

Zhu Jia glanced around. The restaurant didn’t seem particularly special, apart from its chic, floral decor. Thanks to viral marketing, it had become a hotspot for influencers.

As soon as they arrived, Mo Yichen was ushered into a private room, complete with a prepared child’s dining set for Xiao Wen.

“What do you want to eat?” Mo Yichen handed Zhu Jia a tablet to browse the menu.

The menu, like the decor, was innovative and stylish. Zhu Jia ordered a few signature dishes and a lightly seared codfish dish for Xiao Wen.

Xiao Wen took a bite of the fish and immediately scrunched up his face in dissatisfaction.

“Xiao Wen, no picky eating,” Zhu Jia said firmly, feeding him another piece.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

“Fang Bairan?” Zhu Jia was surprised to see the visitor.

“Sis-in-law, how’s the food?” Fang Bairan grinned, walking in and clapping Mo Yichen on the shoulder. “Didn’t he tell you? This is my restaurant.”

Zhu Jia, chewing on her herb-roasted chicken, raised an eyebrow. “Really? Not bad.”

“Sis-in-law’s too kind.” Fang Bairan sat beside Xiao Wen. “Come on, Xiao Wen, let Uncle feed you.”

Mo Yichen frowned. “Did you wash your hands?”

“Of course!” Fang Bairan scooped some creamy mushroom soup and fed it to Xiao Wen.

Xiao Wen swallowed reluctantly, his face contorting in disgust.

“You little rascal! My cooking’s not good enough for you?” Fang Bairan teased.

Meanwhile, Zhu Jia’s phone buzzed. It was a WeChat message from Chen Tingyan. He’d sent a photo of a vibrant red-orange cocktail, its colors reminiscent of a sunrise.

Y.: Tequila Sunrise at the bar we’re at for Wang Zheng’s birthday. Looks great, doesn’t it?

Zhu Jia replied, somewhat puzzled. It’s beautiful.

Y.: Next time, I’ll treat you. Thanks for helping me with English reading.

Zhu Jia raised an eyebrow. Last time at the library, Chen Tingyan had struggled to finish a single English passage in an hour, so she’d helped him out. Was that really something to be so grateful for?

Jia Jia: It was nothing, really.

Y.: Can we study together again next week? My English is terrible—I’d love more help from you.

Jia Jia: Sure, no problem.

Putting her phone down, Zhu Jia took a sip of cranberry rose tea and noticed Mo Yichen staring at her with an oddly intense expression.

What’s with him? Did he also find the food disappointing? It’s not that bad.

After dinner, Mo Yichen dropped Zhu Jia and Xiao Wen home before returning to Fang Bairan’s restaurant.

The private dining room had been cleaned, and Mo Yichen sat on the sofa, lighting a cigarette, his brow furrowed.

“What was it you wanted to discuss earlier?” Fang Bairan asked, handing Mo Yichen a glass of whiskey.

Taking a sip of the amber liquid, Mo Yichen said, “Remember W-Tech? The company I mentioned that’s been stealing our AI technology?”

“Of course,” Fang Bairan replied. “That small-time operation sneaking around your patents?”

The Mo Group has carved a significant niche for itself across numerous industries, and in recent years, it has shifted its focus towards cutting-edge technology, with artificial intelligence being one of its most crucial projects.

However, since the second half of this year, Mo Yichen noticed a small company repeatedly launching new projects ahead of them, and these projects closely resembled the Mo Group’s research results and upcoming plans.

The access to these technologies and plans was limited to a select few senior executives. While Mo Yichen had yet to identify the insider leaking confidential information, the small company named W Tech had become a focal point of suspicion.

“The actual investor behind it is this man.” Mo Yichen handed a phone with a photo displayed on it to Fang Bairan. “He’s someone your brother met in the UK.”

Fang Bairan’s expression turned serious. “My brother? But how would he have access to classified information?”

“That’s still under investigation. Someone in the company’s upper echelon is untrustworthy.” Mo Yichen stubbed out his cigarette in an ashtray. “Whoever it is will face the consequences.”

Mo Yichen stood up and looked at Fang Bairan. “Keep a close eye on your brother. See who he’s been interacting with.”

Fang Bairan sat on the sofa, his face blank with thought. He nodded slowly in response.

“I’m leaving now—got things to handle at home.” Mo Yichen grabbed his coat from the rack, took a long stride, and left