Volume One, Chapter 51: Ah Zhou

Although she had no idea why Mu Shaozhou would come here to see Zhuang Zhizhi, Yu Mo still greeted him out of courtesy.

"Your Highness."

Her calm and distant address instantly set a clear boundary between herself and Mu Shaozhou, emphasizing their respective identities and the distance between them.

She ignored the burning, restless gaze Mu Shaozhou fixed on her.

Despite wearing only the lightest touch of eye makeup today, her features remained strikingly beautiful, exuding endless charm and allure. Every smile and frown seemed to radiate dazzling light.

Yet when she looked at Mu Shaozhou, her eyes held only the indifference one would show a stranger.

Zhuang Zhizhi, whose eyes had been closed, now slowly opened them at her greeting.

His calm, clear gaze settled on Mu Shaozhou, his voice as steady as ever. "Azhou."

Yu Mo was momentarily taken aback, her gaze shifting once more to the tall, elegant Mu Shaozhou beside her.

Mr. Zhuang had called the Prince "Azhou."

What exactly was the relationship between these two?

Mu Shaozhou’s tense jaw moved slightly, his thin lips parting.

"Uncle, I came to see you."

Uncle?

Yu Mo’s mind quickly pieced together the relationship between Mu Shaozhou and Zhuang Zhizhi.

The Prince of the Imperial Capital and the President of the Shanghai Chamber of Commerce were nephew and uncle.

This truly surprised her.

But she soon regained her composure—after all, this had little to do with her.

Zhuang Zhizhi seemed somewhat surprised by Mu Shaozhou’s visit. He motioned for his assistant, Cheng Tai, to help him sit up.

Once upright, he spoke slowly, "What made you suddenly think to visit me?"

His relationship with Azhou’s father had always been fraught, all because of the car accident seventeen years ago.

Azhou’s mother had died in that accident.

Since then, the ties between the Zhuang and Mu families had all but severed.

Azhou’s visits could be counted on one hand.

Yet Zhuang Zhizhi remained deeply fond of his nephew, especially knowing that Mu Qiming had handed the Mu Corporation over to Azhou at the age of twenty—this only made him cherish the boy more.

Though they seldom saw each other, every meeting was harmonious, with Azhou always showing the utmost respect.

Mu Shaozhou’s gaze flickered, a trace of embarrassment flashing in his eyes.

He lowered his head slightly, fingers unconsciously touching the edge of his mask, his tone uncharacteristically gentle.

"It’s almost Mother’s memorial day. I wanted to see you before I go visit her."

"I see." At the mention of his late sister, sadness filled Zhuang Zhizhi’s eyes.

He braced himself, refusing to let his body collapse, his voice unwavering. "I’ll come visit your mother too."

Cheng Tai quickly supported Zhuang Zhizhi, preventing him from falling.

Mu Shaozhou’s eyelids drooped. When he looked up again, his obsidian eyes seemed to brush Yu Mo’s face unintentionally.

"Wait until your health improves before going," he said.

Mention of his health made Zhuang Zhizhi glance at Yu Mo, introducing her to his nephew. "This is Yu Mo—"

"I know her," Mu Shaozhou replied coolly.

Zhuang Zhizhi hadn’t expected Azhou and Yu Mo to be acquainted, but he wasn’t surprised.

He let Cheng Tai help him lie back down, turning to Yu Mo. "Miss Yu, thank you for your trouble."

Yu Mo nodded gently.

But before she could place her hands on Zhuang Zhizhi’s legs, she was stopped.

"Wait." Mu Shaozhou’s voice came suddenly. He stood beside Yu Mo, lowering his long lashes to look at her, his voice cold yet magnetic.

"I’ll do it."

Zhuang Zhizhi’s eyes flew open in surprise, as did Cheng Tai’s.

Yu Mo frowned. "Do you know how?"

She had never heard that Mu Shaozhou possessed this skill—it didn’t seem like something the Prince would need. He was more likely accustomed to receiving massages than giving them.

Mu Shaozhou saw nothing amiss.

He simply didn’t want Yu Mo to tire herself needlessly; massaging someone’s muscles was no easy task.

"You can teach me," he said evenly.

Zhuang Zhizhi didn’t understand his nephew’s intentions, but he asked, "Miss Yu, if you’re willing to teach him, then if you’re not here, I can have Azhou help me. But if you’d rather not, I won’t force you."

Perhaps her massage technique was a closely guarded secret—if so, it was only natural she wouldn’t want to share it.

"That’s fine," Yu Mo agreed readily.

Her technique had been passed down by her master, though she had made some improvements of her own.

She had no qualms about teaching Mu Shaozhou—after all, it was hardly likely he would use it to treat others for money.

There was simply no need to worry.

"Your Highness, like this..." Yu Mo demonstrated the hand movements for Mu Shaozhou, explaining the appropriate pressure for each point.

Mu Shaozhou pressed down on Zhuang Zhizhi’s leg a few times.

Yu Mo nodded approvingly. He was a quick study—one hint was all he needed.

"Repeat the sequence as before, and continue the massage for twenty minutes," she instructed, taking out her set of silver needles.

After disinfecting them and arranging them in neat rows, she stood and went to the restroom.

During Yu Mo’s absence, Zhuang Zhizhi spoke to Mu Shaozhou, who was still massaging his legs.

"Azhou, do you like Yu Mo?"

Though phrased as a question, Mu Shaozhou could hear the certainty in his uncle’s tone.

"Yes," he replied without pausing, his mind drifting to recent interactions with Yu Mo, hesitating over whether to confess his feelings.

But it seemed Yu Mo was somewhat averse to his identity as the Prince.

Zhuang Zhizhi noticed his reaction and spoke softly, "If you like her, take her to visit your mother’s memorial. I think Yu Mo is a good girl. If you can marry her, your mother would surely be happy."

"I will," Mu Shaozhou promised.

After he had taken her to see his mother, he would find the right moment to reveal his true identity to her.

Yu Mo returned, carefully inspecting the silver needles, her expression focused.

Mu Shaozhou glanced at her a few times, his eyes flickering.

Yu Mo administered the acupuncture with practiced skill.

Zhuang Zhizhi soon felt a tingling in his legs—limbs that had been numb for so long now seemed to awaken under a gentle current, growing gradually sore and swollen.

Twenty minutes later, Yu Mo removed the needles.

Zhuang Zhizhi was elated. "Miss Yu, that massage technique Azhou just used felt very familiar. Did you invent it yourself?"

He didn’t mention that an old friend of his once used a similar technique, though with subtle differences.

Yu Mo smiled. "My master created that method. I’ve made a few minor adjustments myself."

"Then your master is—"

The trill of a phone interrupted them.

Yu Mo nodded to Zhuang Zhizhi and answered the call.

"Lin Xing, what is it?"

Lin Xing sounded in high spirits. "Yu Mo, guess who my colleagues and I ran into while on duty?"

"..."

"It’s Fu Yanting. He’s at the Third District police station now."

"I have nothing to do with him anymore."

"I’d suggest you come and take a look. There’s something interesting going on—you’ll regret missing it."