The hospital corridor was quiet after Ye Wan left.
Her perfume still lingered faintly in the air, but it wasn't sweet anymore. To Mo Chen, it felt sharp, artificial, and out of place—like cheap flowers covering the smell of rot.
He stood by the door, his hand still resting on the knob. Ye Wan's last smile replayed in his mind. It had been soft, charming, the exact kind of expression that once stirred sympathy in people.
But when her eyes brushed past Shen Qingxue, there had been something else—a cold flicker, quick but unmistakable.
Something about it made his chest tighten.
Mo Chen was a man who thrived on control. He could predict boardroom betrayals before they happened.
He could read people's ambition in the smallest of gestures. Yet for some reason, he couldn't read Ye Wan anymore.
The "innocent girl" who once seemed like a fragile flower now felt more like a puzzle with pieces swapped out.
He didn't like it.
He turned back toward the hospital bed.
Shen Qingxue was there, half-reclined against the pillows. Her skin was pale, her lips still colorless, but her expression was calm, almost serene.
The weak sunlight through the window fell over her face, softening her sharp features.
For years, he had thought of her as arrogant, dramatic, selfish.
Someone who clung to him, forced herself into his world, and never once considered his feelings.
But now—
Now she looked like a completely different person. No, perhaps it wasn't her that had changed.
Perhaps it was him.
Mo Chen's chest tightened painfully.
Why was he standing here instead of being at his meeting? Why was he wasting time worrying about a woman he had spent years resenting?
His fingers curled into his palm. He couldn't understand it.
She doesn't deserve my concern, he told himself. She brought this on herself. She forced her way into my life. She made me hate her…
And yet, as he looked at her now, so thin and fragile that even the blanket seemed heavy on her body, a sharp ache spread through his chest.
Then why does it hurt to see her like this?
***
Her voice broke his thoughts.
"Why are you staring at me like that?"
Mo Chen blinked. Shen Qingxue's eyes were open, watching him. Her tone was light, teasing even, though her voice was weak.
He straightened his shoulders, covering the turmoil in his chest. "I wasn't staring."
She raised a brow, lips curving faintly. "Really? You've been standing there for quite a while. Did you come back so soon just to make sure I hadn't run away?"
The corner of his mouth tightened. "The meeting wasn't important."
Her smile widened just a little. "Not important? Last I checked, the Mo Corporation was hosting half the city's investors this morning. If even one of them pulls out, wouldn't that cost you hundreds of millions?"
He looked at her, startled by her casual knowledge. She hadn't spoken of business for months.
Back then, she had only cared about clothes, jewelry, and his attention.
Yet now, she mentioned investments as if she'd been following every step of his work.
He turned away. "I told you. It wasn't important."
Qingxue laughed softly. "So President Mo decided that babysitting his dying wife is more important than money? What an honor."
The words were light, almost mocking, but Mo Chen felt his throat tighten.
Without answering, he walked over and adjusted the blanket around her shoulders. His hands moved stiffly, but the gesture was gentle.
Qingxue blinked, then tilted her head slightly, watching him with a faint amusement. "This is new. The mighty Mo Chen, actually tucking me in."
Her teasing smile didn't hide the flicker of warmth in her eyes. For the first time in years, she was looking at him without bitterness.
Mo Chen's chest gave another sharp twist.
He said nothing, only muttered, "Rest. Don't talk too much."
***
Later, after an urgent phone call forced him out of the room, Shen Qingxue exhaled slowly. Her calm mask melted into something sharper, colder.
Baozi, she called silently.
A pink dumpling-shaped ball appeared beside her bed, bouncing anxiously. Host, that corrupted one… I scanned Ye Wan's aura again. It's not Ye Wan anymore. The system has completely overridden her soul. He's in full control now!
Qingxue's eyes narrowed. "So it's confirmed. Ye Wan is gone."
Baozi trembled. "Yes. Host, this is dangerous. He's not following the Bureau's narrative at all. He wants to collapse the world. If you don't counter him soon, your mission will fail and your contract will"
"Enough," Qingxue interrupted in her mind, her tone icy but steady. "I know the risk."
She leaned back against the pillows, her fingers curling on the sheets. If he's rewriting the script, then I'll tear it apart faster than he can fix it. Let's see how a corrupted system likes being outmaneuvered.
Baozi blinked nervously. But how? He's using Ye Wan's heroine halo. Everyone will believe her, no matter what she does. Even Mo Chen.
***
"Halos can crack," Qingxue murmured. All I need to do is force glitches into his perfect little story. The more flawless he tries to make Ye Wan, the more suspicious she'll seem when she falters. If the world stops believing in her purity, his control will weaken.
The pink system bounced up and down. "Glitches! Host, you're too clever! So what's the plan?"
Qingxue's lips curved faintly. "We start small. Twist her spotlight moments into shadows. Let the cracks show."
Her eyes gleamed coldly. This is my stage now, not his.
***
The door opened again. She smoothed her expression instantly, looking back at the man who had returned.
Mo Chen was holding a tray. The smell of broth wafted into the room, steam curling into the air.
Qingxue blinked. "What's this?"
"Food," he said simply.
Her brows rose. "You? Bringing food with your own hands? Now that's something worth writing in the papers."
He ignored her words, carefully lifting the tray. He tested the spoonful of soup, blowing on it lightly to cool it down. Without thinking, he held it out toward her lips.
Qingxue froze, eyes widening slightly.
Mo Chen's hand stilled as realization hit him. What was he doing? Feeding her like—like some devoted husband? He nearly pulled the spoon back, but in that instant Qingxue leaned forward and took the bite.
Warmth spread through her mouth, gentle and mild. She smiled faintly as she chewed.
Mo Chen stiffened, caught between retreat and persistence.
"Careful," he muttered, voice lower than usual.
She swallowed, her smile deepening. "President Mo, if you keep spoiling me like this, I might forget I'm supposed to be your hated wife."
His jaw tightened. He wanted to brush it off, to scoff, to remind her not to think too much. Yet when her eyes lingered on him with that teasing calm, something flickered across his own gaze—something unguarded, almost like worry.
He turned away quickly, setting the spoon back down. "Eat slowly."
But the softness in his voice betrayed him.
The room fell into silence again, the kind that pressed against the chest. Qingxue lowered her lashes to hide her thoughts. Mo Chen stood stiffly by her side, pretending to check his phone. Neither spoke.
Yet something had already shifted—too subtle for words, but undeniable.
The distance that once felt like iron walls was thinning, thread by fragile thread.
***
The next morning, the hospital room was filled with the faint scent of disinfectant and sunlight.
Shen Qingxue sat upright on the bed, already changed out of her gown into a fresh set of clothes. Her hair was brushed back neatly, her eyes sharp with a stubborn determination that didn't match the thinness of her body.
A nurse was still fussing at her, trying to persuade her to stay longer, but Qingxue's expression left no room for argument.
"I said I'm fine. It was just a scratch. Not even worth staying overnight."
The nurse sighed and turned helplessly toward Mo Chen, who stood near the window with his arms crossed, his cold gaze fixed on the woman in front of him.
"Mrs. Mo, the doctor recommended two more days of rest. If you strain yourself too soon. You are also terminally ill."
"Then I'll strain myself." Qingxue's tone was firm, though light. "I didn't come here to waste time staring at white walls. I still have work to do."
Mo Chen's eyes darkened.
"Work?"
She met his gaze without flinching. "So what if my first day was ruined? I can still work. I barely got to interact with your employees."
The words fell into the air like small stones hitting still water. The nurse wisely excused herself, sensing the tension between the two.
Silence pressed between them for a long moment.
Mo Chen's lips curved into the faintest shadow of a frown. "You think you can walk back into the company like this? Shen Qingxue, don't be ridiculous."
"I'm not being ridiculous." Her chin tilted slightly, pale but unyielding.
"I'm not broken, Mo Chen. I'm not some delicate vase you can put on a shelf. I'm capable of more than you think."
His chest tightened again, that same inexplicable ache that had haunted him last night. She was fragile in appearance, but the light in her eyes now burned with something sharp—resilience, fire, perhaps even defiance.
It unsettled him.
"You'll collapse before you even step out of the car," he said flatly.
"Then you'll be there to catch me," Qingxue countered, a faint smile tugging her lips.
His breath caught.
For a moment, he wanted to argue further, to pull rank, to remind her that she had no authority to dictate her recovery. But then he saw the way her hand tightened on the strap of her handbag, the faint tremor in her fingers that betrayed the effort it took her to sit upright.
She was holding herself together with sheer willpower.
And something in him… gave way.
Mo Chen exhaled slowly, his voice clipped. "Fine. Do what you want. But don't regret it."
Qingxue's lips curved more fully. "I won't."
***
By noon, the sleek black car pulled into the underground parking lot of Mo Corporation.
Employees who happened to pass by froze in shock as Shen Qingxue stepped out, supported slightly by Mo Chen's arm. For months, she had been a shadow—gossip whispered that she was fading away, that her position as Mrs. Mo was only a title. Yet here she was, walking into the building with her head high, looking pale but composed.
Her heels clicked against the floor as she entered the lobby. Heads turned. Conversations halted.
"Isn't that Mrs. Mo?"
"She was in the hospital just
yesterday, wasn't she?"
"She looks so weak… why would she come here?"
Mo Chen's expression cut the whispers short. The weight of his presence was enough to silence the lobby in seconds. He escorted Qingxue into the private elevator without a word.
Inside the mirrored walls, their reflections stood side by side. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "You hate this, don't you? That I'm insisting on coming here."
His jaw tightened. "You said it yourself—you'll do what you want. Don't expect me to approve."
Qingxue chuckled softly. "I didn't ask for approval. Only for tolerance."
The elevator dinged. The doors slid open, and they stepped out into the executive floor.
***
The air in Mo Corporation's office felt thick with an anger that was all Ye Wan's own. It hummed just beneath her skin, a low, constant vibration of fury. She had been waiting for Mo Chen in his office, planning how to "cheer him up" after the exhausting day she'd forced on him yesterday.
She had even bought a bento box he liked, carefully choosing each dish. It was all part of the script, the perfect heroine-in-distress who was also thoughtful and kind.
But the script was changing. He was supposed to have a meeting with the investors—a crucial, high-pressure event—and she was supposed to be the one to save him from it with her perfect, sweet presence. Instead, he had skipped it. For Shen Qingxue.
Ye Wan's fingers, curled around the handle of the bento box, tightened until her knuckles went white. Her sweet, charming smile, the one she wore for everyone, felt like a mask that was starting to crack.
He's deviating from the path.
He's softening toward her.
The thought was a sharp needle twisting in her gut.
No. That couldn't be happening. According to the original narrative, Mo Chen was supposed to resent Shen Qingxue, to see her as a burden, a woman who had trapped him. That resentment was a foundation upon which her own "pure" love could flourish.
It was the contrast that made her so perfect in his eyes. He couldn't be feeling concern for that woman, that dying shell of a person. He was supposed to see her as a problem, not as someone to protect.
The doors to the executive floor elevator slid open, and a ripple of whispers traveled through the open-plan office. Ye Wan, from her vantage point, stiffened as she saw them.
Shen Qingxue, pale but standing tall, and Mo Chen, his arm subtly supporting her.
The gesture was so quiet, so private, that it made Ye Wan's blood run cold. She didn't miss the way he held himself, a wall of silent protection around the other woman.
This wasn't just a deviation.
This was an outright rebellion against the narrative. The system pulsed with a new directive, clear and uncompromising. The hero's feelings must be reset. Her sympathy points must be destroyed.
A cold smile, sharp and not at all sweet, touched Ye Wan's lips. She had been too kind, too subtle. She had planned for small, gentle "misunderstandings." But if Mo Chen was going to be so stubborn, so intent on breaking his own script, then she would have to get more… creative.
She could cause a bigger incident. An "accident."
One that would make Shen Qingxue look reckless and incompetent, proving that she didn't belong here, not with her failing health and her foolish ambition.
The perfect chance to show Mo Chen that his concern was misplaced, that Shen Qingxue would only cause trouble, just like she always had. It would remind him exactly why he was supposed to hate her.
Yes. She would use the new product prototype. The one they were about to test in the R&D lab. A small, controlled short-circuit. It would seem like a simple mistake, but it would damage the prototype just enough to set the project back by months.
All she needed was for Shen Qingxue to be in the same room. The gossip would do the rest.
Her thoughts turned toward Mo Chen. It wasn't just about destroying Shen Qingxue's reputation anymore. The system felt it, a deeper, colder goal. Mo Chen's stubborn heart, his refusal to follow the narrative, was a flaw in the entire world. A threat to its very stability.
He has to be broken.
She would make him see the truth. That everyone who gets close to Shen Qingxue only ends up hurt.
That this fragile woman wasn't worth his time or his precious emotions. She would shatter his faith in his own judgment, make him regret this moment of weakness. His love for her would be reborn not from sympathy, but from a desperate need for a different kind of salvation. One that only she, the real heroine, could provide.