Chapter 249: Our Mohist School owes her
With Fu Linghe's comfort, Yun Zheng's emotions gradually calmed down, leaving only occasional low sobs.
He looked down at Yun Zheng's red nose and wet eyelashes, and his heart seemed to be gently grasped by an invisible hand.
His fingertips wiped the tear marks at the corners of her eyes, and the skin he touched was cold and damp.
"Are you hungry?" he asked softly, stroking his thumb over her thin cheek. "I haven't eaten properly in two days."
Yun Zheng shook her head. Although she hadn't eaten anything in the past two days, she really had no appetite and couldn't eat anything.
Fu Linghe looked at her, his deep and magnetic voice made people so intoxicated that they forgot how to refuse.
"I asked the kitchen to make your favorite seafood porridge this morning. It's still hot."
He loosened his grip on her, unbuttoned his suit cuffs with one hand, and rolled up his sleeves to his forearms, revealing his well-defined wrists.
Yun Zheng raised her eyes, tears still hanging on her eyelashes.
Fu Linghe took the opportunity to place a kiss on her forehead, his warm lips touching her slightly cool skin. "Wait, I'll go down and serve it to you."
Yun Zheng felt the warmth on her forehead and finally smiled for the first time in the past two days. Although it was a shallow smile, it made Fu Linghe feel relieved.
He carefully supported her shoulders and let her lean against the headboard, then took a cushion and placed it behind her waist. "Wait for me, I'll be right up."
When he stood up, there were still traces of Yun Zheng's tears on his trousers, but Fu Linghe, who was a severe mysophobia patient, didn't care at all.
But when he reached the door, he looked back at Yun Zheng worriedly.
She sat on the bed, hugging her knees, looking at his back, their eyes meeting in the air.
Five minutes later, Fu Linghe returned to the bedroom with a tray.
The aroma of seafood porridge drifted into the room first, and Yun Zheng's stomach couldn't help but protest.
She pressed her abdomen awkwardly and saw that Fu Linghe's smile deepened.
She placed the tray on the bedside table. The porridge was garnished with green chopped green onions and pink shrimps, and served with a small dish of refreshing pickled cucumbers.
Fu Linghe sat by the bed, scooped a spoonful of porridge and blew it gently to cool it down.
Yun Zheng wanted to take the spoon, but he dodged her.
"Don't move, I'll feed you." His voice was gentle but unyielding.
When the first mouthful of porridge reached her lips, Yun Zheng hesitated.
Fu Linghe held the spoon patiently and looked at her intently.
She opened her mouth slightly and the warm porridge slid into her mouth. The delicious taste blossomed on her tongue, and she realized how hungry she was.
"Is it delicious?" Fu Linghe asked, wiping a little soup from the corner of her mouth with his fingertips.
Yun Zheng nodded, her eyes feeling a little hot again.
It's not because of sadness, but because I am touched by this meticulous care.
Fu Linghe fed her a few more mouthfuls, blowing gently to cool it down each time to ensure the temperature was just right.
When he finished the last mouthful of porridge, Fu Linghe put down the bowl and suddenly pulled Yun Zheng into his arms.
His chin rested against the top of her head, and he said in a low voice, "Don't torture yourself like this anymore, do you hear me?"
Yun Zheng nodded in his arms, smelling the familiar scent of him mixed with the faint aroma of porridge.
Fu Linghe stroked her back with his palm, as if to confirm her existence. "Do you know how worried I have been these past two days?"
"I'm sorry..." Yun Zheng's voice was muffled in his chest.
Fu Linghe sighed and lifted her face.
"I don't want an apology." He stroked the faint dark circles under her eyes with his thumb. "I want you to remember that nothing is more important than you. No matter what happens, we will face this together."
Yun Zheng stared into his deep eyes, and the determination in them made her feel at ease.
She took the initiative to move forward and kissed him lightly on the lips, tasting the salty and fresh taste of the seafood porridge and the unique flavor of Fu Linghe.
…
Country A, the old house of the Mohist family.
Mo Shi'an put the phone back into his pocket. The call end interface on the screen still had the echo of Mo Chenfeng's last words "Don't make things difficult for her".
He stood in front of the window. The afternoon sun of Country A shone through the floor-to-ceiling windows onto the Persian carpet, stretching his shadow very long.
The clothes in the closet were neatly arranged, and he casually pulled out a few pieces and threw them into the suitcase.
He paused when his fingers touched the pistol hidden in the secret compartment, but finally stuffed it into the compartment of his backpack.
The capital is not Country A, but it’s always better to be on guard.
The staircase spirals down, and the light from the crystal chandelier reflects on the marble floor.
Mo Shi'an didn't expect to meet the old man in the living room. He was leaning on his rosewood cane, and the butler was standing next to him carrying a suitcase.
"Grandpa?" Mo Shi'an's leather shoes stopped on the last step. "What are you doing..."
The old man was wearing a dark grey Mao suit today, and his silver hair was combed meticulously, obviously he had dressed up deliberately.
The wrinkles carved by time on his face hide too many unknown past events, but at this moment those wrinkles appear particularly deep because of a certain determination.
"I'll go with you." The old man's voice was like sandpaper grinding against rough bark, but it carried unquestionable power.
Mo Shian's suitcase hit the ground with a bang.
He walked quickly to the old man and smelled the faint scent of medicine on him.
"Your heart can't handle long-distance flights, and..." He lowered his voice, "and that's the Fu family's territory."
The housekeeper tactfully retreated three meters away, but Mo Shian still saw the old man's skinny fingers tightening on the cane, and the knuckles turned white.
"Over 20 years," the old man said suddenly, his gaze gazing through the French windows of the living room, as if looking far away. "We all owe that kid an explanation."
Mo Shian noticed that when his grandfather said this, the jade dragon carved on the top of the cane trembled slightly.
"Yun Zheng may not want to see us. Even if we meet her, we may not be able to communicate well." Mo Shi'an tried to make his tone calmer.
The old man suddenly slammed his cane down on the ground, a dull thud that shook the entire living room. "That's why I should go!"
"grandfather!"
It was the first time that Mo Shian saw tears flash in his grandfather's eyes.
"Shi An, after all, you and Zheng Zheng are of the same generation. Your mother's condition is unstable, and your father can't go with you. Only if I, the old man, go with you can we show how much we value her."
"Even if she doesn't care about these things, this is our attitude towards him."
The head of the Mohist school, who was always decisive in the business world, now had a hunched back, like an old pine tree bent by the wind and snow.
The private plane has landed on the tarmac behind the manor, and the roar of the engine can be heard faintly.
Mo Shian looked at the old man's back as he insisted on walking towards the car.
"Let Dr. Chen come with us." Mo Shi'an compromised and took the suitcase from the butler.
As the stretched Lincoln drove toward the airport, the old man suddenly said, "You can't be as impulsive this time as you were that night."
"She must hate me very much." Mo Shian lowered his head and spoke in a soft voice, as if he was talking to himself.
The old man closed his eyes, a bitter smile forming at the corner of his mouth. "Then let her hate me. The Mo Clan owes her, and it's time to repay them."
She should have been the darling of the Mo family, and grew up in the love of the Mo family. It was they who lost her, and they were sorry for her!
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