Lauren Shaw was taken aback. She couldn’t figure out what Mo Qinglin meant by saying all this.

"Is that all you wanted to say, Mr. Mo?"

Mo Qinglin still wore that polite smile, but his eyes lost their earlier inscrutable depth, replaced by a genuine sincerity. It was just like the first time she met him—clear, harmless eyes.

"Alright, then. If that’s all, please leave, Mr. Mo. I have something important to do."

"Don’t misunderstand, I have no ulterior motives. I just needed to get a few things off my chest today."

Mo Qinglin’s urgency made Lauren Shaw more confused about who he really was. What kind of person was this man, after all?

Just then, Yancy Shaw came upstairs. Seeing Mo Qinglin blocking the doorway to the guest room, his eyes darkened, as if a weight pressed on his chest. He quickened his pace.

"Sheng Sheng."

Hearing that familiar voice, Lauren Shaw’s face lit up with surprise and joy. When she saw Yancy Shaw, her expression softened. "What brings you here?"

He’d said he might be busy till late tonight; she hadn’t expected him to come. But now that he was here, she truly felt happy.

"I came as soon as I was done," Yancy Shaw answered, shooting a dark look at Mo Qinglin. His tone was low. "And what are you doing here?"

Mo Qinglin shrugged nonchalantly. "Just chatting with Miss Li."

"Chatting?" Yancy Shaw paused. "So blocking my wife’s door is how you make conversation?"

Was this really just a chat? It felt more like harassment.

Seeing Yancy Shaw’s demeanor, Mo Qinglin let out a light laugh. "No need to get so worked up, Mr. Shen. I’m just a cripple; there’s nothing I can do to Miss Li, right? Or do you have so little confidence in yourself?"

His face was full of mockery, as if he were dancing right at the edge of Yancy Shaw’s patience.

Yancy Shaw let out a cold snort. "If you weren't a cripple, do you really think you'd still be sitting here talking to me right now?"

His fists had already clenched tight. If not for the wheelchair, he would have made Mo Qinglin taste his fist by now—he’d been holding back for a long time.

Mo Qinglin chuckled. "You really have a way with words, Mr. Shen. Don’t worry, Miss Li and I are just ordinary friends, nothing more." He cast a meaningful glance at Lauren Shaw. "I’ll leave you two alone. Let’s have dinner together sometime."

He was about to leave when Lauren Shaw stopped him.

"I think there’s no need for us to be friends. I’m not your old acquaintance, Mr. Mo. If you really wanted to be friends, you wouldn’t be so rude. Disrespecting my husband is disrespecting me. Do you understand that, Mr. Mo?"

It was better to make things clear—Mo Qinglin was a dangerous man; she needed to keep her distance.

Just then, voices echoed from down the hallway—clearly more guests were arriving.

Mo Qinglin hesitated, as if he wanted to say more.

"How much longer are you planning to stick around here?" Yancy Shaw was clearly not happy to see him.

Realizing it wasn’t right to be blocking someone else’s door, Mo Qinglin wheeled himself away.

Lauren Shaw closed the door behind him.

Yancy Shaw’s expression softened. "Did your dress rip?"

Lauren Shaw had thought he’d ask about her conversation with Mo Qinglin, but instead, he was concerned about her dress.

She nodded and let go of the torn piece of fabric she’d been clutching. "Claire Xu went back to get me another gown—she should be on her way now."

Yancy Shaw chuckled. "I doubt she’ll get here that soon. I ran into her with Henry Mills in the lobby downstairs."

Lauren Shaw: "..."

Well, so much for sisters having your back—men always seemed to get in the way at critical moments.

She glanced at her phone, finally realizing it was turned off.

"It’s 9:20 now. There’s still an hour and a half before the banquet ends."

Yancy Shaw, always thoughtful, made sure she knew the time. This was her own thank-you banquet. If she was gone for too long, some people were bound to be dissatisfied.

With that in mind, Lauren Shaw called the front desk and asked someone to bring her a sewing kit and a pair of scissors.

The staff arrived with what she needed.

Lauren Shaw took the scissors and decisively cut the skirt up to her thigh, revealing her long, slender legs and adding a hint of alluring charm to her whole look.

She looked up to see Yancy Shaw crouching beside her with the sewing kit in hand. She was a little surprised. "You can sew?"

"Of course. Did you forget what your husband does for a living?"

Oh, right—surgical stitching was one of her husband’s specialties.

Yancy Shaw pulled out a chair for her and knelt down beside her, head lowered in deep concentration as he focused on the hem of her dress. His long, elegant fingers worked the needle in and out, every movement graceful and pleasing to the eye.

Lauren Shaw watched him, entranced by his practiced hands—as if he had done this countless times before. There was something about his seriousness that made it impossible to look away.

"Is this how you sew up your patients’ wounds too?"

"Pretty much," Yancy Shaw replied, his eyes flicking up with deep tenderness. Lauren Shaw felt as if she were falling into the endless stars reflected in his gaze.

He was kneeling there, and when he looked up, it was as if a whole galaxy shimmered in his eyes—it made Lauren Shaw’s heart skip a beat.

She had no idea how tempting she looked right now. Her dress was a v-neck, and sitting on the chair as she leaned forward slightly, her fair skin was right in his line of sight. The sight hit him so hard that for a moment, the needle nearly slipped from his grip.

Yancy Shaw’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he cleared his throat, voice suddenly hoarse: "Sheng Sheng, don’t look at me like that, or I’ll mess up your business."

He couldn’t take her looking at him with those wide, innocent, affectionate eyes—it made him want to hold her close and spoil her rotten.

Understanding the hint in his words, Lauren Shaw’s face reddened. She bit her lip and muttered, "What’s wrong with looking at my own husband? Isn’t that allowed?"

Yancy Shaw stayed silent, deftly tying off the thread and cutting away the excess.

Lauren Shaw stood up to check his work. Though the short dress wasn’t as formal as the original, it had its own unique style that showed off her charm.

She spun once in front of him. "How do I look?"

Yancy Shaw didn’t take his eyes off her. "Absolutely gorgeous." There was unmistakable affection in his smile.

She gave him a thumbs up. "You’re amazing!"

Yancy Shaw chuckled. "This kind of sewing isn’t exactly a challenge for me."

She couldn’t help but tease, "Husband, maybe you should become a fashion designer—I think you’d be great at it!"

With a meaningful smile, Yancy Shaw replied, "As much as I might suit being a designer, I think being your husband is my real talent."

Knowing he was intentionally teasing her again, Lauren Shaw smiled sweetly. "Being my husband is pretty impressive, too."

Hmm… that sounded a little ambiguous.

Yancy Shaw raised his eyebrows, glancing at the time. "Let’s head downstairs."

"Okay."

With a gentle smile, Lauren Shaw took his arm. Remembering Claire Xu was likely still on her way with the dress, she sent her a message telling her not to bother anymore.