Shocking! A three-year-old brings his aloof mother to their door.

He could only grit his teeth and endure it, under the bright, expectant gaze of his daughter and the seemingly casual look of his wife.

Under the actual "supervision" of someone listening intently, he continued with his flawed approach.

"Mo's Unique Unofficial History Universe" blends Eastern and Western mythology, fairy tales, and folk legends.

"Ahem... By the way, the Calabash Brothers' grandfather, he... he's not an ordinary person!" Mo Ye started making things up.

In his youth, he was also... well, a chivalrous hero who stood up for justice!

Once, he passed by a mountain called Black Wind Mountain and happened to witness the scorpion demon forcibly abducting a woman!

Grandpa was filled with righteous indignation and immediately took action, defeating the scorpion demon and saving the girl…

Tongtong listened intently, her big eyes wide and brighter than the bedside lamp.

"And then what? Did Grandpa and that girl get married? Are they the parents of the Calabash Brothers?"

"Uh... well..." Mo Ye tried to smooth things over, "Grandpa and that kind girl... admired each other, but the girl already had someone she loved, so Grandpa let them be together and continued to travel the world."

Later, on a magical mountain, he discovered a wondrous seven-colored gourd vine…

Upon hearing this, He Wanqing raised her eyebrows almost imperceptibly. Although her gaze did not leave the paper, her ears quietly perked up.

She felt inexplicably depressed—she used to tell Tongtong those classic stories.

When told educational fairy tales, the little one always loses interest after a while or falls asleep.

But when it comes to Mo Ye, who talks about these messy and illogical "hodgepodges," Tongtong becomes energetic, enthusiastic, and very interactive.

Is it really true that "women don't love good men"...? Does this apply even to demure women?

Then Mo Ye continued to ramble on, and it got more and more outrageous.

............

Then, after a smooth ending, Mo Ye felt like a genius.

But Tongtong's attention was clearly still on the "exciting" part; she frowned and asked a probing question:

"Dad, the Calabash Brothers' grandpa stole the Scorpion Demon's wife. Isn't that a bad thing?"

And... could she give birth to Snow White?

Wasn't Snow White a human? And wasn't the Scorpion Demon's wife a snake? Σ(っ°Д °;)っ？

Her little brain struggled to process these confusing ideas:

"And another thing, the Calabash Brothers themselves gave birth to seven dwarfs? Aren't they brothers? How did they have children?"

Tongtong started asking a million "whys"...

Mo Ye was speechless when asked the question, and sweat almost broke out on his forehead.

He tried to salvage the situation:

"This... Tongtong, these are all fairy tales. They were made up by uncles and aunts to teach us some principles, such as being brave, kind, and united."

Some of the details are just for the sake of making the story interesting; we should just listen to them and not take them too seriously.

The Calabash Brothers... well, they were formed from the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, making them a special kind of "vegetative state." Their friendship and kinship are the most important things.

Tongtong nodded as if she understood, but a new thought quickly popped into her head. She counted on her fingers, her little face full of envy:

"There are seven Calabash Brothers. They play together and fight monsters together. It's so lively! Tongtong wants a younger brother or sister too... Mommy!"

She suddenly turned to He Wanqing, her eyes shining brightly:

"How about you give me seven younger brothers and sisters? That way, with Tongtong, there will be eight! One more than the Calabash Brothers!"

"Pfft—cough cough cough!" Mo Ye was picking up his water glass to drink when he heard this and almost choked. He was trying to hold back his laughter so hard his shoulders were shaking.

He Wanqing, who had only been listening in, suddenly turned pale and crumpled the magazine in her hand.

She glared at Mo Ye, then looked at her innocent daughter and said, trying to speak calmly:

"Tongtong, Mommy isn't a pig; I can't have so many babies at once. Besides, younger brothers and sisters aren't for playing with."

Tongtong, however, was lost in her own fantasy and continued to utter startling remarks:

"Dad said in his stories that they could even steal other people's wives!"

Tongtong is growing up, and she's going to be amazing too.

Then go and steal... steal the most beautiful wife you can find!

Mo Ye's smile froze instantly, and his eyes widened.

No, no, no!

This educational imbalance is too great!

How could his daughter have such a dangerous thought as "stealing someone else's wife"?!

He was just about to sit up straight and seriously correct his daughter's skewed values ​​when he saw the little one talking and talking...

The sound grew softer and softer, the eyelids began to droop, and the little head nodded little by little.

Her breathing gradually became even and long—she had talked herself sleepy and was about to drift off to sleep.

Sure enough, the smile doesn't disappear; it just moves from one person's face to another.

Before Mo Ye could even raise the corners of his mouth to look like a "strict father," a sharp pain from a twisting sensation in his thigh forced him back down.

"Hiss—Ouch!" He almost cried out in pain, quickly covering his mouth and grimacing as he looked at the "perpetrator."

He Wanqing had put down her newspaper at some point, and one hand was precisely pinching the soft flesh on the inside of his thigh.

His eyes were cold and warning, and he spoke in a low, whispered tone that only the two of them could hear:

"What a clever story you've made up!"

Mo Ye winced in pain, but dared not raise his voice. He could only clasp his hands together and mouth gestures to He Wanqing, frantically begging for mercy.

"I'm sorry! I won't do it again! Be gentle! Be gentle!"

Seeing his comical yet pitiful appearance, He Wanqing's anger subsided considerably. She released her grip, but still kept her voice low, her tone leaving no room for argument:

"From now on, you are not allowed to tell her these messy and misleading 'stories' anymore."

If you're going to talk about something, talk about something serious and educational.

Mo Ye rubbed his aching thigh and nodded repeatedly, deeply reflecting on how he had indeed gotten a bit carried away tonight and made up a story that was too unrestrained.

Seeing that his daughter was fast asleep, he tried to gently pull his arm away from Tongtong's tight embrace.

Unexpectedly, the little guy felt the "pillow" was about to run away in his sleep, and immediately became like a little piglet guarding its food, grunting twice in dissatisfaction, and using both hands and feet to nudge towards him, hugging him even tighter, and rubbing his little face against his arm in a dependent way.

Mo Ye was helpless and tried several times but could not get away without waking his daughter.

Just then, He Wanqing's cold voice rang out again, sounding somewhat abrupt in the quiet night, yet carrying a hint of...naturalness that was barely perceptible.

"Fine, you can sleep here tonight."

Mo Ye paused, then looked up at her.

He Wanqing had picked up the newspaper again, covering most of her face except for her smooth forehead and slightly reddened ear tips. Her tone was as flat as if she were saying, "Let's have rice tonight."

Mo Ye is not a pretentious person.

Besides... this bed is indeed fragrant and soft, carrying He Wanqing's fresh and pleasant scent.

And the sweet, milky scent of his daughter was much more comfortable than the bed in his guest room.

He likes the feeling of being enveloped in warmth and security.

"Okay." He responded softly, stopped struggling, adjusted to a comfortable position, gently patted his daughter's small back in his arms, and closed his eyes.

Perhaps it was the relaxation of his mind and body, or perhaps it was the tranquil atmosphere that infected him, but he soon fell into a deep sleep, his breathing becoming long and steady.

After confirming that both the adult and the child beside her were fast asleep, He Wanqing gently put down the newspaper, which she could no longer concentrate on reading.

She lay on her side, gazing quietly at Mo Ye's sleeping profile in the dim light.

His handsome features, sharp and refined during the day, softened considerably in the darkness of night. Long eyelashes cast soft shadows beneath his eyelids, and his thin lips were slightly pursed, making him appear completely unguarded.

As I looked at it, that familiar "itchy" sensation, as if a tiny electric current was running through my skin, quietly resurfaced.

It was stronger than ever before. A voice inside me was stirring: I want to hug him... I want to kiss him... Closer, just a little closer...