Chapter 218: The Honest Person Isn't Honest

The woman weakly waved her hand and said slowly, "Twenty-one years ago, I went to Beijing. I was a few months pregnant and trying to find the man who abandoned me. He knew I was pregnant but only left me some living expenses and then ignored me. I stayed in Beijing for a while and eventually learned he was the eldest son of a wealthy family, already married with a son over ten years old. I was heartbroken and angry, and I fell ill."

"Mother..." The girl took the woman's hands, her voice filled with worry.

The woman on the bed, her eyes melancholic, continued, "I lived in a temple. The head monk was kind and arranged for doctors to treat me. But I lost the baby."

The girl's anxiety grew. Her mother had lost her child—who was she, then?

The woman seemed to understand the girl's thoughts. "At that time, I would rather have died. Though my body recovered, I had no desire to live. The head monk saw my despair and tried to comfort me. After I recovered, I wanted to become a nun. But then, he brought a baby girl, barely a year old, who had been left at the temple door."

The girl's face paled. Could this woman be her mother?

"Beiwei, you're not my biological daughter. I don't know your parents. The head monk brought a jade bracelet, saying two babies had been left at the temple, but I don't know where he sent the other. I was distraught and didn't ask. I heard a young couple who came to burn incense took the child."

Tears streamed down the girl's face. She clutched her mother's hand. "Mother, no matter what, you are my mother, my only family."

The woman gently caressed the girl's hand. "Beiwei, I may not live much longer. Remember, the temple is called Luo Hong Temple. The head monk is Wu Shan... Go to Beijing and look for them…"

As the woman drifted off to sleep, the girl carefully repositioned her and then stood, her thoughts focused on getting money to treat her mother. Her birth was secondary.

A middle-aged man entered the room. "Are you Tan Beiwei?"

Tang Beiwei looked up, confused. "Yes. What is it?"

The man smiled. "I have some things to discuss with you privately. Do you have time?"

Tang Beiwei frowned; she didn't recognize him but agreed to speak privately as she had nothing else pressing.

…

It was 3:00 AM. Ye Mo's car arrived at a private mansion near Wuliang Mountain—Jing Xi's residence, unexpectedly.

Despite Jing Xi claiming it was a relative's home, Ye Mo was skeptical. He considered her foolish to think him an idiot. He'd been observing her constantly, even while she showered—gentlemanly behavior was not his priority. He knew she might suspect him. He couldn't relax.

He had to admit, despite her age, she maintained her youthful appearance. Her body was strikingly attractive, her skin milky white. Her breasts were firm and high, defying gravity.

Having carried her before, he knew the smoothness of her skin. He sometimes doubted she was truly older than twenty. Most of her wounds were scabbed over, a testament to her potent powder.

She showered meticulously, carefully examining herself in the mirror. He thought she was vain, but undeniably beautiful. Even knowing her ruthlessness, observing her naked through his spiritual sense was arousing.

Just as he was about to withdraw his spiritual sense, she touched her waist—where he'd applied the powder. He worried—was she that clever? Had she noticed?

She touched, felt, and smelled her finger. He saw her frown. His heart pounded. She was astute.

To his relief, she didn't act suspiciously. She put aside the powder, seeming to treasure it. Then, she became alert.

He immediately withdrew his spiritual sense, certain she'd sensed him.

"Da Hu, are you there?" He heard her call from the living room. She was clearly uneasy and checking his location. He answered readily. Relief washed over him; she hadn't detected his spiritual sense.

She finished showering and found him in the living room. "I was a little scared alone," she admitted sheepishly.

Ye Mo smiled innocently. "Don't worry, I'll go to sleep." But he remained cautious. She was too perceptive.

He worried she might try something tomorrow, so he planned to leave his mark tonight. The raw killing intent in her eyes when he applied the powder showed a disregard for human life.

He cultivated for half the night, woke early, prepared breakfast, and waited for Jing Xi.

Jing Xi woke to find exquisitely prepared congee and side dishes. She approved of his diligence. He wasn't bad; she almost didn't want to kill him. But those who saw her naked had to die. He'd have an easier death.

"Sister Zier, I made congee. You haven't fully recovered. Eat some." He offered her a bowl and chopsticks.

"Hmm, it's good. Thank you, Da Hu."

Ye Mo smiled innocently. "It's nothing. If you like it, I can make more."

Jing Xi felt a pang of recognition. Years ago, another man had said, "Sister Zier, if you like it, I can stay with you every day…" But after seeing her Shi Jie (presumably a sister), he'd distanced himself and slept with her. She felt a bitter resentment.

Ye Mo didn't expect his words to affect her so strongly. He thought she was unpredictable.

Fearing a sudden attack, he urged, "Sister Zier, eat quickly; it's getting cold."

"I don't want it. Da Hu, wait here. I'll tell my master. If he agrees, I'll come back for you."

Ye Mo's heart sank. She was unreliable. He needed to leave his mark. Worried, he said, "Sister Zier, but I… I want to see…"

She smiled sweetly, pointing to his head. "Da Hu, would I lie? Trust me. I'll come for you tonight and let my master meet you."

He knew further conversation was pointless. He had to make his mark and follow her. Hopeful, he blushed. "Sister Zier, you're beautiful. I want to hug you."

Jing Xi was shocked. The honest Da Hu dared to make such a request. She remembered feeling watched while showering. Was it him? But he lacked the skills of an ancient martial artist; she would have known. But what if it was?

She looked at Ye Mo, noting his handsome features and clear eyes. She felt a sense of familiarity. He had looked at her with that same hope, saying, "Sister Zier, you're beautiful. I want to hug you." Was it him? A fire ignited within her.

Seeing her dazed expression, Ye Mo feared rejection, making it impossible to hug and mark her. He decisively hugged her, her cheeks already flushed.

This revised passage improves grammar, punctuation, and flow, making it more readable and engaging. It also removes some of the more awkwardly translated phrasing and jarring descriptions.