That night, in the villa.
Chen Mo looked up as Xiaoyu stepped out of the bedroom.
His eyes lit up.
Under the warm, ambient lights, Xiaoyu was like a lotus blooming in the quiet of night. Her clear, shy eyes shimmered. A faint blush dusted her cheeks, softening her already fair skin, which peeked through the thin silk of her nightdress like polished jade. Her damp hair cascaded over her shoulders, exuding a fresh, floral fragrance.
Seeing the look in Chen Mo's eyes, Xiaoyu's nerves heightened. She twisted her fingers together, gripping the hem of her nightgown as she quietly walked over and sat beside him on the sofa.
"If you're done staring, you should help me dry my hair," she said, biting her lip.
"Right! Hairdryer—coming up!"
Chen Mo bolted to grab it, flustered but smiling. As he plugged it in, the scent of her skin and hair drifted to him again. His thoughts became hazy, his body warmer. He wasn't a saint, and they'd waited… long enough.
Wait a second.
Hair dryer... fish… déjà vu? His hand froze. The moment felt eerily familiar.
He quickly put down the dryer and reached for his phone.
"My hair's not dry yet," Xiaoyu said, confused as the hair dryer stopped.
"Lesson learned. One mistake is enough. Let me just—" Chen Mo smiled, then powered off his phone. Just to be sure, he turned off Xiaoyu's phone too.
"No one will interrupt us tonight."
With a satisfied grin, he picked up the hair dryer again and resumed his gentle strokes.
Xiaoyu's body was tense, clearly nervous. Her breath hitched now and then, her blush deepening as her imagination took over.
Once he was done, she kept her gaze lowered, her fingers still fidgeting in her lap.
"Be my woman," Chen Mo whispered softly into her ear.
"Mhm." She nodded, her voice barely audible.
Chen Mo smiled against her cheek and drew her into his arms. She resisted at first—timid and unsure—but soon melted into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck as their kisses deepened.
Later, in the quiet of night, he gently carried her back to the bedroom, the door slowly closing behind them.
Outside, the moon dimmed. The night deepened. And the red flushed softly across the sky.
The next morning.
Xiaoyu stirred beneath the sheets, her lashes fluttering. She stretched like a lazy kitten, relaxed and glowing.
The softness in her features, the contentment in her expression—this wasn't the shy girl from yesterday. There was now a hint of mature allure, of quiet confidence.
As her gaze fell on the man beside her, she smiled faintly.
Last night… I gave everything to him.
She tried to move but winced. Her body was still sore from the "punishment" she received the night before.
Just as she shifted again, an arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her in.
"Why not sleep a little longer?" Chen Mo murmured.
"I should make breakfast," she whispered.
"No rush. I've just had a taste of fish… now I want seconds. Let's do some morning stretches first."
Xiaoyu's face turned crimson.
"W-Wait, I'm still sore from last night, you—ah!"
Half an hour later, Chen Mo carried a flushed and exhausted Xiaoyu into the bathroom. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes glassy, her limbs limp like a kitten that had just been thoroughly played with.
Later, at the breakfast table, Xiaoyu's skin looked extra radiant. Her eyes sparkled with a new softness, and her every movement had a gentle charm to it.
She shot a glare at Chen Mo, who calmly peeled a boiled egg and placed it on her plate.
"Eat your egg."
"Eat your ghost! You bully!" she huffed and pinched the soft flesh at his waist.
"Ow—okay, okay! One night and now you've become my wife already?" Chen Mo grimaced.
Xiaoyu harrumphed but relented, picking up the egg to eat it.
"Since it's the weekend, let's go shopping after breakfast," Chen Mo offered.
"No thanks. I'm… not exactly in prime condition." Her cheeks reddened.
Chen Mo chuckled. Before he could get a word out, an egg was stuffed into his mouth.
"Still laughing?! You're the one to blame!"
"Alright, I surrender. How about this—you decide the punishment," Chen Mo said.
"Then… just stay home with me today. We'll go out tonight."
"Deal."
After breakfast, the two spent the day together in the villa.
Xiaoyu read a book in the living room, while Chen Mo lounged beside her, casually playing a mobile game. The atmosphere was relaxed, domestic, peaceful.
By evening, they finally left to stroll through the mall—a perfect ending to a long-awaited weekend.
Monday morning.
Chen Mo arrived at the office feeling rejuvenated and radiant. The calmness in his demeanor, the extra spring in his step—he was practically glowing.
Shortly after, Zhao Min entered his office with a document in hand.
"This is the application for the Chinese Character Programming Language Environment Project. If everything looks good, I'll proceed. Binhai University has already expressed interest. As soon as we get the official green light, they'll start prepping the experimental course for next year."
Chen Mo flipped through the document, nodding as he read.
"Oh, and by the way," Zhao Min added, "some publishers reached out about printing your textbook series."
"I know. Xiaoyu mentioned it over the weekend. I've already agreed. You can let her handle it."
"I figured," Zhao Min smirked. "But I actually came for something else. You want to promote this language, right? I've got an idea."
Chen Mo looked up, instantly intrigued. "Let's hear it."
"A nationwide programming contest using the Chinese character programming language."
Zhao Min outlined the details: a high-stakes coding competition to drive adoption, encourage learning, and identify talent. Winners could be recruited, and if promising software emerged from it, the company could absorb or support it.
"Excellent idea," Chen Mo said without hesitation. "This will push the ecosystem forward."
He could've easily fast-tracked promotion by simply announcing that Marching Ant's AI systems were written in this language, but that would expose the existence of advanced AI.
Better to grow it organically—and a contest was the perfect bait.
"From now on, you're in charge of all of this," Chen Mo added. "If I have more ideas, I'll let you know."
"Decentralization, finally?" Zhao Min teased.
"Don't joke. I've always said you're in charge of the business."
"Fine," she laughed. "We'll plan to hold the first competition in June next year. I'll handle the logistics and keep you posted."
Zhao Min left the office, and Chen Mo turned to the AI system.
"Ink, start preparing instructional videos for the language—animated and interactive."
"Understood, Brother Mo," Ink Girl responded immediately.
That afternoon, Marching Ant's official website and Weibo published a major announcement:
"The Marching Ant Company is launching the first Chinese Character Programming Language Contest. It will be held in June next year, with a top prize of ¥2 million. Detailed rules and registration info will be released within a week."
The news exploded across tech circles.
It hadn't been long since the language debuted, and now a national contest was already underway.
Marching Ant wasn't just making waves. They were starting a storm.