After leaving the hospital, Luo Shiya and Luo Muqi were waiting for him in the Maybach.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Mo Xuan said apologetically as he got into the car. “I didn’t expect him to look for me, but it worked out—I gave him what he deserved.”
“It’s fine, big brother. Aren’t you going to check on him?” Luo Muqi asked curiously. “After all, he’s your grandfather.”
“No, Chairman Mo is in the ICU now. I don’t know what happened,” Mo Xuan said with a bitter smile. “Karma came too quickly. My birth mother was also there, bruised and wearing a hospital gown. All three of my so-called parents are hospitalized now.”
Luo Shiya and Luo Muqi exchanged glances, silently confirming that neither of them had a hand in it.
It seemed Mo Changshan was just unlucky. No one had done anything to him, yet he ended up in the ICU all by himself.
“Xiao Xuan, maybe you should still go see him,” Luo Shiya said in an extremely gentle tone. “They are your birth parents, after all. Even though they treated you poorly in the past, favored Mo Jinpeng, and turned a blind eye to what happened with Su Yanran and your grandmother… they’re still your family, right?”
Luo Muqi couldn’t help but shiver at her sister’s words. The gentlest tone carried the most divisive message.
Sis, I never realized you were such a master of subtle manipulation.
Fortunately, Mo Xuan was a bit oblivious and didn’t catch the underlying meaning in Luo Shiya’s words. He calmly replied, “No need. Whether he lives or dies has nothing to do with me.”
That’s right, it has nothing to do with you…
All that matters is that you care about us…
Luo Shiya and Luo Muqi gazed at Mo Xuan with an almost obsessive intensity, but when he looked up, they quickly returned to their usual expressions.
Why does it feel a bit strange? Mo Xuan thought he had sensed something unusual, but when he glanced up, Luo Shiya and Luo Muqi were looking at him as they always did.
“By the way, big brother, since you’re feeling down, why don’t you come to my studio with me?” Luo Muqi suggested with a smile. “I need a model, and you’d be perfect for it.”
“Me?”
Mo Xuan felt a bit awkward. Luo Muqi had never invited him to her studio before, and he wasn’t particularly knowledgeable about art. She rarely discussed her work with him, preferring to spend time together in other ways.
“Go ahead. Muqi mentioned this to me in the car earlier,” Luo Shiya chimed in with a smile. “Actually, she’s been wanting to give you a painting.”
Mo Xuan suddenly felt a pang of guilt. While he had always taken care of the sisters in daily life, he had never been of much help in their professional pursuits.
He had no interest in finance, focusing entirely on his own field. He didn’t know much about art or painting.
Yet, they had always supported his work. It was Luo Shiya who had sold his program to Luo Corporation, and when he first wrote it, both sisters had been his biggest cheerleaders.
Unbeknownst to him, Mo Xuan’s reliance on and affection for Luo Shiya and Luo Muqi had grown deeper. After his grandmother’s passing, he had gradually come to trust only them, unable to place his faith in anyone else…
When Mo Xuan arrived at Luo Muqi’s studio for the first time, he couldn’t help but think that the lives of the wealthy were indeed simple, unadorned, and somewhat dull.
What was supposed to be a studio turned out to be a villa, not far from the estate where they lived.
The interior was sparsely furnished, with a TV and sofa in the living room, along with several famous paintings from both Eastern and Western artists. Mo Xuan couldn’t tell if they were genuine, but he had a feeling they were authentic…
Luo Muqi’s painting room was on the second floor, likely created by merging two rooms. The floor-to-ceiling windows opened to a spacious balcony, offering excellent light and a great view.
The room had only one painting hanging in the center, and as soon as Mo Xuan saw it, he was captivated.
Two women in white gowns, their long black hair cascading down, embraced a man seated in a chair from either side.
The gowns were as pristine as wedding dresses, and the man held their hands tightly, a smile on his face. The two women gazed at him tenderly, their eyes filled with affection and devotion.
The painting’s composition and characters bore a striking resemblance to the trio portrait Luo Muqi had burned, but unlike the oppressive and heavy atmosphere of that piece, this one exuded warmth and gentleness.
The background was no longer adorned with red and white roses but was instead a pure, blank white.
“This…”
Mo Xuan was stunned because the three people in the painting bore a striking resemblance to them. Luo Muqi’s skill was evident in the detailed portrayal of their faces.
“This is my gift to you,” Luo Muqi said with a smile. “It’s part of a series, but that’s not important. All that matters is that you see this painting now.”
Luo Shiya remained silent, staring at the painting as if lost in thought.
The exhibition wasn’t open to the public, and photography was prohibited, which was why Luo Muqi had shown the other two paintings instead.
Luo Shiya had once asked her why she didn’t display this one, and Luo Muqi had replied, “This is only for big brother and us to see.”
They were twisted, obsessive, and even a little insane, but they wanted Mo Xuan to see only the beautiful side of them.
In the past, Luo Muqi had shown Mo Xuan some of her trio paintings, but he had been indifferent, merely complimenting them as “nice.”
The two paintings Luo Muqi had exhibited—one under a withered tree and the other depicting a masked deception—reflected her darker side. But this painting, the one she had kept hidden, was her way of showing Mo Xuan the love and warmth she felt for him.
Luo Muqi’s personality was different from Luo Shiya’s. She had a mischievous, almost devilish streak. She delighted in showing people the stark contrast between beauty and darkness.
She succeeded. Many who came to see her paintings left with mixed emotions, as if they had been lured into a sweet, peaceful story only to be stabbed in the heart at the end.
Luo Muqi’s art was always warm, serene, and full of beauty, but the sudden shift to darkness left viewers unsettled.
She did it on purpose, knowing Mo Xuan would never find out.
To everyone else, Luo Shiya and Luo Muqi were cruel and unfeeling. They didn’t see themselves as good people, nor did they care to be. But their love for Mo Xuan was genuine, even if it was obsessive and unhealthy.
Over the past three years, they had suppressed their darker impulses, but their love for Mo Xuan was real.
What Luo Shiya and Luo Muqi wanted most was for Mo Xuan to stay with them, even if he discovered their true nature.
“Big brother, do you like it?”
Luo Muqi looked at Mo Xuan like a child waiting for praise, her eyes sparkling. Mo Xuan couldn’t help but reach out and gently touch her face. “I love it. I really do.”
“Then hurry up and take off your clothes. I’m going to paint you now.”
“Wait, isn’t everyone in the painting wearing clothes?”
Before Mo Xuan could react, Luo Shiya was already skillfully helping him out of his black down jacket.
“Xiao Xuan, it’s for the sake of art.”
“That’s right, big brother. This is how art works!”
Mo Xuan’s protests echoed through the studio…
Meanwhile, in the hospital room, Mo Changshan coughed up blood, his eyes slowly losing focus.
Mo Xuan’s final words seemed to have torn away the last shred of his dignity.
The pain of his parents’ favoritism was real, as was the shadow cast by his younger brother. But after inheriting the family business, his mindset had changed as well.
His parents’ bias had created an insurmountable rift in his heart, but in the end, it was his own greed and ambition that had consumed him.
His grandmother had pitied his suffering but was heartbroken by the person he had become.
Under his influence, Mo Changshan, who had been well-taught by his grandmother, had also turned out the same way—only worse. His unhealthy relationship with Li Yuzhen had further warped him.
When the foundation is crooked, the structure above will inevitably follow.
He could no longer hear the sounds around him—Qin Ni and Mo Tingting’s sobs, the frantic movements of doctors and nurses.
His life flashed before his eyes like a fast-forwarded movie. He saw the lonely version of himself who had been treated differently by his parents, the hardworking and diligent version of himself, and the version of himself that had slowly been corrupted by money and power, becoming greedy and selfish.
Everything seemed to replay in his mind, finally freezing on the back view of a girl with braided hair.
"Old... old lady..."
He recognized her as his grandmother from her younger days and called out weakly, but the figure grew farther and farther away until it disappeared. From beginning to end, she never turned back to look at him again. Just as Mo Xuan had told him—goodbye forever...
In the art studio, Mo Xuan had managed to keep his clothes on. Just as Luo Muqi was asking him to pose, his phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number.
"Mo Xuan, what... what did you just say to your grandfather?"
As soon as he answered, Qin Ni's tearful voice shouted at him. Mo Xuan rubbed his ear, which had been assaulted by the loud noise, and replied helplessly, "What could I have said? Just some things my grandmother told me. I thought he should know."
"You... you... you unfilial son! You’ve killed your grandfather!"
Qin Ni broke down into sobs as she spoke. Old Master Mo had passed away despite the efforts to save him.
"Oh, really? I’m heartbroken," Mo Xuan said indifferently. "By the way, Ms. Qin, didn’t you notice the mourning band on my arm when you entered the hospital room earlier?"
"W-what do you mean?" Qin Ni was stunned. "Your... your grandmother..."
"That’s right. She was buried today," Mo Xuan sneered. "I’m hanging up now, Ms. Qin. Don’t contact me about the old man’s funeral. I’m busy, and I have no intention of going."
With that, Mo Xuan hung up and immediately blocked the number.
After a moment of thought, he unblocked Mo Jinpeng’s number and dialed it. Fortunately, he hadn’t been blocked yet.
As soon as the call connected, Mo Xuan spoke coldly before Mo Jinpeng could say a word, "Let’s meet, Mo Jinpeng."