With a single glance from you, you could snatch all the pearly verses from a poet's harp, my beauty;
But they did not hear your praises, and so I have come to sing for you.
You could make the proudest head in this world bow at your feet.
But you choose to honor the obscure one you love, therefore I honor you.
Your perfect arms can make the glory of kings more radiant under their touch.
But you use them to sweep away dust and clean your humble home, so I stand in awe.
—Rabindranath Tagore, The Gardener
Morning sunlight pulled open the curtain of a new day, and Ye Wudao and Wu Nuanyue, who had slept together like a young couple, lay wrapped in each other's arms. When Ye Wudao opened his eyes, he found Wu Nuanyue, who had undergone her baptism the night before, staring at him with her beautiful eyes wide open, her gaze filled with infinite tenderness and infatuation. Ye Wudao pinched her little nose affectionately and said, "Still not getting up？"
"Oh." Wu Nuanyue sat up immediately to get dressed—she had been secretly watching Ye Wudao, and since he was awake, she had to get up. At this moment, she wasn't wearing a single piece of clothing, which was quite enticing. Ye Wudao gazed at her crystal-clear, tender breasts from so close—the perfect hemispherical shape, skin white as carved ivory, the delicate round rosy nipples, and the slight trembling of her alluring form—all of this made Ye Wudao, this wolf, utterly captivated. Wu Nuanyue was the kind of woman who looked more beautiful the longer you gazed at her, a trait many women simply couldn't achieve.
Wu Nuanyue felt a wave of weakness from Ye Wudao’s lustful gaze, wanting to escape but lacking the strength. Ye Wudao pinned her down on the bed and said with a lecherous grin, "God knows the needs of men, so He placed the heavens so far away and women so close to men. 奇$%^书*（网！&*$收集整理 Since God has placed you so close to me, isn’t it only right for me to do something about that？"
Wu Nuanyue scrambled away in fright, but the pain from there made her moan involuntarily. Her delicate brows furrowed, presenting a touching and pitiable image. Ye Wudao immediately remembered she was still a girl who had just lost her virginity. Embracing her with concern, he said, "Still hurts？ You don't have to go to school today. I'll ask for leave for you." Wu Nuanyue leaned sweetly against his chest without speaking, having long been accustomed to obeying him in everything, she had already taken all of Ye Wudao's dominance and tenderness as the source of her happiness.
Still riding in that ultra-luxurious Spyker sports car, but Ye Wudao wasn't in the mood at all. He turned on his phone to call Murong Xuehen, but she told him to wait for her at the school gate. When Ye Wudao arrived at school, Murong Xuehen had also just arrived. As soon as she saw Ye Wudao, she ran toward him, her face full of anxiety, panting as she said, "Wudao, Mom is really angry this time. I called you but your phone was off. Mom kept asking me for the longest time, and I just couldn't bring myself to say it…" As she spoke, Murong Xuehen began to sob aggrievedly. Choosing between the brother and mother she both deeply loved must have been a very difficult thing.
Ye Wudao walked while comforting the injured little woman, drawing a one-hundred-percent turn rate from the people around. After sending Murong Xuehen to her classroom, he returned to his own and found that his still unfamiliar classmates were looking at him differently—the girls with a hint of admiration, the boys with intense jealousy. Ye Wudao thought, fame is a curse, and trouble would definitely not be scarce from now on.
In English class, Han Yun still wouldn't give him a good look. Several times when Ye Wudao, for the first time ever, raised his hand, Han Yun didn't let him speak, completely treating him like he was invisible. After class, Ye Wudao went to the office to ask for leave for Wu Nuanyue and walked behind her, but ended up getting the cold shoulder—Han Yun didn't even glance at him. The two walked to the office in silence. The homeroom teacher, Zhang Yan, was late as usual because she always ran over time, so she hadn't arrived yet. Other teachers weren't around either due to miscellaneous errands. Just as Ye Wudao was about to explain, Han Yun, while organizing some materials, said coldly, "Pervert！"
Ye Wudao felt a surge of anger—even a clay Buddha has some temper. Even if he had made an impulsive move that day, did she have to be so sarcastic? Just then, Zhang Yan walked in and saw Ye Wudao. She asked, "Is there a problem?" Ye Wudao placed Wu Nuanyue's leave slip on the desk and walked out of the office with a grim face. The moment he closed the door, Han Yun slammed the stack of materials in her hands hard onto the desk. Zhang Yan couldn't figure out what was going on between the teacher and student, but the fact that someone as well-mannered as Han Yun would get so angry made her really curious.
Dragging through the day in a daze, Ye Wudao sat in his family's Mercedes like a prisoner heading to the execution ground. Murong Xuehen beside him kept warning him not to talk back and to admit his mistakes humbly... After chattering on and on for a good while, Murong Xuehen actively leaned into Ye Wudao's arms and asked, "Wudao, did you stay at that girl's house last night？"
Ye Wudao wisely said nothing—at a time like this, anything he said would just be adding fuel to the fire or burying his head in the sand. The light in Murong Xuehen's eyes gradually dimmed, and finally she whispered in Ye Wudao's ear, "Tonight, I want to sleep in Wudao's room！"
As soon as Ye Wudao stepped through the door and entered the house, he felt an unusually oppressive atmosphere. Dead sooner, reborn quicker. Gritting his teeth, Ye Wudao braced himself and walked to the living room, lowering his head as he sat down. Ye Hetu was holding a newspaper, while Yang Ningbing was lying in wait for him like a sitting duck, radiating an icy aura all over.
"Don't think that just because Xuehen helped you lie, I can't do anything to you. Explain yourself clearly！" Yang Ningbing said with a frosty face. This time, she was truly furious—staying out all night at such a young age, what would he grow up to be? A street punk?
Ye Hetu didn't dare to shield that little rascal Ye Wudao this time. In this household, Yang Ningbing had the final say in everything; everything had to pass her approval—it was pure misery. Watching his son droop his head, Ye Hetu secretly gloated: "Kid, you kept stealing my imported cigarettes, now you're getting what you deserve."
Ye Wudao played dumb, acting like he knew nothing, just keeping his head down in silence, confessing with a face full of hypocritical remorse.
"Talk！ Where did you go last night, what did you do, and who were you with！" Yang Ningbing grew angrier the more she looked at him. Usually spoiled rotten, he was getting more and more lawless. If she didn't teach him a lesson this time, wouldn't he completely go astray！ Her icy tone suffocated everyone in the room. As the mayor of finance for a major economic city in the country, she naturally possessed an overwhelming presence.
Clinging to the belief of "Confess and get sent to Xinjiang to lay bricks, resist and get to stay home for New Year," Ye Wudao persisted in silence. Silence was his greatest rebuttal—wasn't it just one night spent outside? Was it really worth all this fuss?
Even Yang Ningbing's excellent upbringing and elegant demeanor couldn't stop her from getting angry. She interrogated Ye Wudao with a forced lecture, growing more intense, but Ye Wudao simply refused to open his mouth. Mother and son were deadlocked, making Ye Hetu and Murong Xuehen feel things had really taken a bad turn—Yang Ningbing had never been so undignified before.
Just as Yang Ningbing was issuing her ultimatum to Ye Wudao, the doorbell rang very timely. Murong Xuehen hurried to open the door—it turned out to be Aunt Yang Ningsu. Gracefully standing at the entrance, she wore an elegant smile. With her restrained, refined attire and the inner richness she carried, she could captivate any man. Her dignified, elegant appearance and temperament made her the ideal standard for a daughter-in-law in the eyes of the older generations of noble families. Neat, non-revealing, well-fitting suit styles that were tailored but not tight, elegant yet understated light makeup, and most importantly, a calm aura that naturally emanated from her whole being, perfectly shaping her into a sharp female anchor. A beauty with such dignified intelligence could be the center of attention wherever she went.
Murong Xuehen quickly whispered the situation into the ears of this lifesaver for Ye Wudao. After hearing the gist of it, Yang Ningsu walked into the living room, sat beside Ye Wudao, and said with a gentle smile, "In trouble again？ I really wonder when you'll ever act like an adult."