Chapter 49

Mu He locked the door, drew the curtains, put on her headphones, and started a video call. His face appeared on the screen, no filters, still from the notorious “death angle,” yet unbearably handsome.

She had already calculated the best viewing position: “Put your phone on the shelf by the sink.”

After some wobbling, the image went from blurry to clear. Huo Siheng casually tugged at his collar: “Is this okay?”

Perfect.

Not only could she see him undress up close, but when he stepped under the shower, it would be a full, unobstructed view. Mu He held her flushed face, thinking whether she should grab a tissue in case she got a nosebleed from excitement.

He began unbuttoning his shirt, slowly and deliberately, from bottom to top, button by button. Mu He’s eyes followed those fair, long fingers without blinking. When his shirt was fully removed, a sudden spark lit her eyes.

Eight neatly arranged abs, a defined Adonis belt, a solid chest, aesthetically pleasing collarbones—all struck at once. The sensation was like her first time eating Japanese food, accidentally getting too much wasabi—every nerve ending numbed by the shock.

Mu He was utterly captivated, lips dry, tongue parched. The sound of a zipper from her headphones made her blood feel like it was boiling; her cheeks flushed red at a visible pace.

The main event was about to begin.

She couldn’t hold on and collapsed onto the bed, lightly tapping her forehead, fanning herself to regain some composure.

Huo Siheng raised an eyebrow at her but continued with his actions.

He tossed his pants into the laundry basket, then a small piece of black fabric followed. Mu He focused entirely on the screen. The curvy buttocks flashed by; she wanted a closer look, but suddenly the image spun wildly, leaving only the mirrored ceiling, reflecting the lonely, flat phone.

Mu He: “?!……”

“Huo Siheng, the phone fell!”

The sound of dripping water drowned out her voice.

Mu He sighed deeply. What luck was this? The visual feast she had prepared for herself was gone!

She had only considered the shelf’s position, ignoring its stability.

Her imagined beautiful moment turned into him showering while she listened to the water sound, heart aflutter.

Twenty grueling minutes passed. The man reappeared, wearing dark gray pajamas. At least the belt was tied loosely, the chest partially exposed—a small consolation.

Mu He took screenshots while complaining: “I spent a century looking at the ceiling!”

He had just finished showering; his eyes were moist and clear, like a deep pond under the moonlight, irresistibly captivating.

Mu He suddenly forgot what she was going to say, her heart stirred, a wave of allure rising.

Huo Siheng chuckled lowly: “Want me to shower again?”

“No need.”

Despite the unexpected turn, she was fairly satisfied. “Huo Siheng, I miss you so much.”

Even daily video calls couldn’t ease her longing.

“And you, do you miss me?”

Huo Siheng stepped out of the bathroom. The space was spacious, and the lights brighter. He sat on the bed, gazing at her, a soft warmth in his eyes, with a hint of mischievousness: “I’ve been sleepless every night these past few days. Want to know why?”

Mu He’s heart soared, playing along: “Why?”

“To wait for you to come back,” he said meaningfully, “then I’ll tell you the answer.”

From his tone, she knew it wouldn’t be a serious answer…

They talked across the distance until nearly midnight. Mu He’s eyelids grew heavy; she gradually fell asleep, and the phone slipped from her hand onto the bed. Huo Siheng listened to her even, steady breathing and slowly closed his eyes.

The city sank into the dreams of a spring night.

The next day, Mu He woke to the crisp sound of birds. Feeling a hard object under her shoulder and recalling some indescribable images, she opened her eyes. Realizing it was just her phone, she breathed a sigh of relief. She picked it up and found a new message from Zhong Li Fei. Opening it: “Teacher Mu, I dreamed of you last night.”

She typed slowly: “Dreamed of me doing what?”

Zhong Li Fei: “You got married, and I was your bridesmaid!”

Mu He snickered: “Was the groom handsome?”

“Couldn’t see his face clearly, very tall.”

“But you, the bride, looked like a goddess, especially happy.”

Mu He: “Can I ask where the wedding was held?”

“Seems like some church abroad?”

Her heart stirred: “Moscow?”

Zhong Li Fei: “Not sure, that’s all I remember.”

The wedding chat lifted Mu He’s spirits, and she performed at her usual high level during the shoot. Director Tang, monitoring from the control room, looked thoughtful. At this pace, they might wrap filming early.

Tang couldn’t deny he had initially been biased against Mu He. Online rumors claimed Xingyu spent 200 million yuan just to groom her as Best Actress, which he found laughable. She had online popularity, but the mainstream industry didn’t work that way; the work itself was the real standard.

Xingyu was known for being wealthy. Why not just buy a Best Actress award, instead of sending someone to work hard on set?

If not for budget constraints, low pay, and being unable to attract a suitable actress, he wouldn’t have conceded, letting Mu He play Bai Xiaoxiao.

In his eyes, she was supposed to be a hindrance.

However, over time, her sincerity and love for acting dispelled his prejudice. He realized he had inadvertently found a rough gem—if polished with care, she would achieve greatness. Clearly, it wasn’t just him; the veteran actors thought the same.

Mu He did not disappoint. She was disciplined, humble, and eager to learn. Day by day, she improved, earning new respect even from Tang.

“Wrap up, everyone, good work.”

Mu He saluted playfully: “Director, you worked hard too. Can I have an extra drumstick tonight?”

To look good in a qipao, she had skipped meat for several days.

Tang waved his hand: “Extra!”

“Thank you, Director Tang.”

That evening, Mu He happily ate the chicken leg. She took a photo and sent it to Huo Siheng in her room: “Dribbling with happiness…”

Huo Siheng shook his head and smiled, calling her immediately. Before he spoke, she asked: “You’re home, right?”

The day after tomorrow would be Qingming Festival. He had said last night he’d return early today, then come back after tomb-sweeping. Even if he was home, she wouldn’t get to hug him because she had to work.

Customs differed in Mountain City—usually tomb sweeping occurred on the exact anniversary.

Huo Siheng had just arrived at the Huo residence. Many were waiting to see him, but he preferred quiet, so he went to a secluded side room: “Mm.”

“Have you eaten?”

“Not yet.”

“You eat so late at your house?”

At that moment, as if in response, Huo Siwen pushed open the door: “Fourth Uncle, it’s time to eat.”

Everyone was waiting for him.

Seeing his Fourth Uncle smile, Huo Siwen felt a premonition of disturbing some good event. Could it be Fourth Uncle was chatting with Fourth Aunt?

“Huo Siheng, was Fourth Uncle calling you?”

So he was fourth in the family ranking at home.

Huo Siheng cleared his throat: “Yes.”

Mu He wondered: “Why does your nephew’s voice not sound like a child?”

Huo Siheng glanced lightly: “He might have grown up quickly.”

Huo Siwen: “……”

Mu He had no idea that the person they were talking about was Huo, the president of her company. She responded with an “Oh”: “You should go eat.”

After the call ended, Mu He propped her chin on her hand, thinking, if he is Fourth Uncle, then wouldn’t that make her Fourth Aunt in the future?

Sigh.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Qin, having repeatedly hit dead ends with her daughter, turned to Ding Wu. Upon seeing him, she excitedly told him: “I’ve found out news about our daughter!”

Mrs. Qin pointed to a photo of Mu He in her phone album: “Look, it’s her!”

Ding Wu was initially half in doubt. He had gone through many twists and turns to find his daughter—Yufenfang found her so easily?

Seeing the photo, he finally put aside his doubts: “I already knew.”

Mrs. Qin was extremely surprised: “You knew?!”

She bit her lip to hold back tears, crying with a face streaked like pear blossoms in the rain, looking pitiful: “Then why didn’t you tell me? Do you know how much I’ve suffered all these years trying to find our daughter?”

Mrs. Qin cried as she recounted all her hardships since her daughter’s birth: nearly dying during childbirth, her biological brother despising her for giving birth out of wedlock, severing ties ruthlessly, lying in a hospital bed on the verge of death with no one to care for her, having to give her daughter away so she could have a better life, remorse afterward, tortured by her conscience, her health deteriorating, moving abroad to recuperate, but never forgetting to search for her daughter…

Ding Wu sighed heavily and patted her shoulder: “Fangfang, you’ve suffered.”

Mrs. Qin tried to reach out to hug him.

Though half-aged, she still retained her beauty. After meeting Ding Wu again, she looked even more dissatisfied with her husband at home—Mediterranean belly, rough speech. People strive upward; water flows downward. Mrs. Qin, no matter how good, could she compare to the esteemed title of the wife of Nancheng’s richest man?

Her daughter was her best bargaining chip.

Even though she had been reckless and loved passionately in her youth, considering Ding Wu’s wifehood, any hugging or holding would have been improper.

He subtly avoided her, leaving Mrs. Qin empty-handed, crying even harder: “I’ve wronged my daughter and wronged you.”

Ding Wu felt a twinge of discomfort: “Regardless, you insisted on giving birth to our daughter. I should be grateful to you.”

Mrs. Qin was secretly delighted, sniffed, and sobbed: “Don’t say that, I did it willingly.”

“Ding Wu, we have a daughter. Are you happy?”

Ding Wu thought of that smiling, lively, lovely face and nodded with a gentle smile: “Of course.”

Mrs. Qin saw his joy and actively stated: “I will go find our daughter and talk. I hope she can forgive me.”

So the three of us can reunite as a family soon.

Ding Wu had no doubts. Indeed, communication between mother and daughter is emotionally easier. If Yufenfang acted as a mediator, it might even double the efficiency: “Fangfang, then I’ll trouble you.”

“You’re too formal, Ding Wu,” Mrs. Qin emphasized. “Don’t forget, she’s my daughter too.”

Understanding her implied meaning, Ding Wu’s eyes briefly showed a hint of disappointment: “Don’t worry, I won’t forget.”

On Qingming Festival night, Mu He received a Weibo push while scrolling. Qianqian was reported to have been seen having dinner with Huo family’s mysterious heir at a star-rated hotel in Fuchun City. She knew Tan Mian would definitely share this explosive news, so she decided to check it first.

Qianqian was a female internet celebrity with millions of fans, selling a “beautiful bust” image. Shortly after debuting, she became the sexy goddess of countless otaku. Mu He clicked the post, realizing it was clickbait. The content was vague, merely suggesting dinner together, without a single photo of them together. The only thing of interest was a back-view photo: a brilliantly lit hotel lobby, a man walking at the front like the stars revolve around him, dressed in black clothes, posture tall and upright.

The distance made the photo unclear; enlarging it made it blurrier.

Mu He faintly felt the man’s back seemed strangely familiar, yet mostly unfamiliar. He seemed so cold, distant, and untouchable. When she clicked again, the photo no longer appeared.

Refreshing the page, not only was the photo gone, but the trending search term vanished too.

Mu He kept thinking about that back view, a feeling she couldn’t name lingering in her heart. Though the probability they were the same person was tiny, she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight without figuring it out.

She decisively sent a video invite to Huo Siheng.