Shocking the Mother-in-Law! What kind of amazing housekeeping team is this?

Song Wan had already prepared herself mentally.

In her mind, her daughter was giving up the fine clothes and delicacies at home and insisted on hiding in this alley. No matter how high-class this restaurant was, it was still just a simple eatery full of everyday life.

But the moment the door was fully opened, her eyes, which were used to seeing big scenes, suddenly froze.

It was a slanting ray of autumn sunlight, shining through the courtyard and illuminating the center of the yard.

On the left side of the field of vision is Wang Cunzhuan, the head of the Department of Ancient Architecture, who should have been giving lectures at Tsinghua University and being admired by thousands.

At this moment, he was wearing a pair of extremely incongruous pink rubber gloves.

The cleaning gloves that are readily available in the vegetable market looked absurd and comical on his hands, which had designed countless landmark buildings.

Wang Cun held a piece of cotton cloth in his hand that looked to be of excellent quality.

He was half-squatting beside a mahogany pillar under the eaves, wiping it with utmost care and attention.

The expression on his face didn't look like he was doing work; it looked more like he was performing a baptism on a priceless treasure.

On the right side of the field of vision, behind the cashier.

Zhou Yang, the national treasure-level master of traditional Chinese painting whose works are extremely rare, is wearing reading glasses on the bridge of his nose.

He rested his chin on his hand, a steaming cup of broken tea in front of him, and dozed off intermittently while looking at the account book on the counter.

Song Wan stood there, feeling something in her mind crack open with a "crack".

She took a deep breath, the coolness spreading through her lungs.

The scene before her eyes was beyond her logical understanding as a professor at Peking University.

"Old Wang?"

Song Wan called out tentatively.

"Old Zhou?"

The moment those two names were uttered, the peaceful, almost stagnant atmosphere in the courtyard was instantly shattered.

Wang Cunzhen was wiping away with great enthusiasm when he was startled by the noise and his hand trembled.

The pink rubber glove made a screeching sound as it rubbed against the wooden post.

He turned around abruptly and saw Song Wan standing at the door. He froze like a statue.

"Professor Song...?"

Zhou Yang, who was at the cashier, was even more direct. When he woke up, his knee hit the counter, and he gasped in pain.

He quickly grabbed the ledger, covered his face, and coughed twice.

"Ahem! Professor Song, don't misunderstand! We're... conducting in-depth art research at the grassroots level!"

Song Wan slowly walked into the courtyard, her gaze lingering on the pair of pink gloves for a long time.

Finally, she looked at Wang Cunzhuan, her voice tinged with disbelief.

"Director Wang, has the Tsinghua Architecture Department's funding really gotten this tight?"

"You two...did you go bankrupt? What are you doing here doing cleaning and cashier work?"

Wang Cun's face instantly turned a deep liver color.

He instinctively tried to take off the pink gloves from his back, but the more he tried, the more haphazard he became, tearing them until his skin ached.

"Professor Song, the way you put it, what do you mean by bankruptcy... that's too harsh."

He pointed to the mahogany pillar, his tone revealing a hint of showing off.

"Look at the patina, look at the carving! This isn't just polishing a pillar; it's a dialogue with history!"

He lowered his voice and took a step closer, looking mysterious.

"To tell you the truth, it's only because Mr. Lin's business is closed today that I managed to snag a cleaning job!"

Song Wan ignored Wang Cunzhu's crazy talk.

As a top intellectual, she scanned the entire courtyard with sharp eyes.

As a professor in the Department of History at Kyoto University, her appreciation for ancient architecture is no less than that of Wang Zuncun.

She had been so focused on the people that when she looked at the courtyard, Song Wan's heart skipped a beat.

This courtyard... something's... off.

In her memory, she had seen and researched the information about this old house, which was originally dilapidated.

If I hadn't seen Lin Mo's restoration skills on a variety show before, I might not have rented this house to him.

After renting it to him, she also fantasized that Lin Mo might ruin it.

But now, everywhere you look, every blue brick laid out and every mortise and tenon joint connected exudes a natural and ancient charm.

That wasn't a deliberate attempt to imitate the antique style.

Rather, it is a new life given to it by the hands of someone who truly understands architecture and its soul.

Especially the brackets under the eaves, the repair marks are extremely hidden, yet so precise that they make one's scalp tingle.

Seeing Song Wan staring at the eaves, Wang Cun couldn't help but give a self-deprecating bitter laugh.

"Stop looking, Lao Song. I had to shamelessly beg Boss Lin for half a month for the renovation plan for this courtyard before he would allow me to take a look."

He pointed to a newly replaced piece of wood on the pillar.

"He honed that skill himself. His woodworking skills are something that even my doctoral students couldn't catch up to in a lifetime."

For the first time, genuine shock appeared in Song Wan's eyes.

This was actually repaired by that young man named Lin Mo himself?

This level of restoration is beyond what can be described as mere "craftsmanship"; it is clearly the aesthetic and skill of a master.

Just then, a series of hurried footsteps came from the backyard.

"mom……"

Jiang Ruoyun ran out when she heard the commotion.

She was wearing a light-colored apron and clutching a rag that hadn't been wrung out properly.

Her face, usually as cold and aloof in the business world, was now filled with guilt and nervousness.

Although she had already informed Lin Mo, and the two even carried out an emergency cleanup targeting the "Empress Dowager".

But when she actually met Song Wan's scrutinizing gaze, she instinctively shrank back.

"Mom... why did you arrive early? Weren't you supposed to arrive at noon...?"

Jiang Ruoyun's voice trembled slightly, a primal fear born from the knowledge that her "Empress Dowager" was traveling incognito.

Song Wan looked at her pampered young lady, who was now washing rags for a man.

Just as she was about to speak, she saw the curtain in the back kitchen being lifted.

Lin Mo came out.

He was wearing an extremely simple white shirt, with the cuffs rolled up to his elbows, revealing smooth and powerful lines in his arms.

He was holding a dry towel in his hand, slowly wiping his fingers.

That was Lin Mo's usual relaxed demeanor.

But only he knew that his heart was pounding like a drum at that moment.

Although he had seen many big scenes before, the pressure of facing his wife's mother, who had an imposing presence, was still immense.

He took several deep breaths in the kitchen before daring to step out of the door.

Lin Mo's gaze was indifferent, calmly falling on Song Wan, but the way he wiped his hands was noticeably a little faster than usual.

He nodded slightly, his voice magnetic and steady, with even a hint of barely perceptible stiffness.

"Hello, Auntie. I'm Lin Mo, the owner of this shop."

His tone sounded quite calm, but to Jiang Ruoyun, the man was even using honorifics, clearly indicating that he was flustered.

Jiang Ruoyun quickly moved to Lin Mo's side, like a kitten guarding its food, and quietly tugged at the corner of his clothes.

This action made Song Wan's eyes instantly deepen.

Song Wan did not immediately pay attention to Lin Mo.

She turned around and looked once more at the courtyard house, which had been restored to the point of being a work of art.

Especially the old locust tree that was preserved in the corner of the courtyard.

The soil under the tree roots was clearly freshly turned, and the drainage outlets were cleverly designed to avoid all blind spots.

"Did you really build this courtyard all by yourself?"

Song Wan turned around, her voice clear and cold, yet carrying a weighty scrutiny.

Lin Mo dried his hands and casually draped the towel over the stone bench beside him, trying his best to maintain the last bit of his "hermit" demeanor.

"I just did a quick fix, I hope you don't find it funny, Auntie."

Wang Cuncun rolled his eyes and muttered, "You mean 'casually'... Your 'casually' almost shattered my worldview."

Song Wan withdrew her gaze and looked at Lin Mo again.

Neither overbearing nor overbearing.

Even though there was a hint of obvious tension in his eyes, this young man's aura was able to steadily suppress all the top-level NPCs in the courtyard.

This kind of person cannot be simply described by the three words "good cooking skills".

Song Wan took a deep breath.

She originally came with the intention of "saving her lost daughter", but as soon as she entered the door, she had already lost half of her ground.

She slowly walked to the stone table in the center of the courtyard.

The stone table is an old object, polished by Lin Mo until it is as smooth and warm as jade.

Song Wan took something out of the handbag she was carrying with great seriousness.

It was a sandalwood box that was entirely purplish-black and had a thick, almost solidified patina.

The moment the wooden box appeared, Zhou Yang, who had been dozing off at the counter, was instantly jolted awake, nearly dropping his glasses.

"That's... that old item from the Song family?"

Wang Cunzun didn't even bother wiping the pillars anymore; he forgot to take off his pink gloves and came over, staring wide-eyed.

Jiang Ruoyun's face paled instantly.

She knew the weight of this thing.

This is the Song family's most treasured possession, and also a symbol of Song Wan's dignity as a top appraiser.

Song Wan gently placed the wooden box on the stone table, making a dull thud.

She looked up, her gaze fixed on Lin Mo, a smile that was both elegant and menacing.

"Mr. Lin, let's talk about family matters later."

Her fair finger gently tapped the lid of the wooden box.

"Old Wang and Old Zhou praised you as a genius unlike any other in the world."

"Perfect timing, I have a dish here."

"I wonder if Mr. Lin would be willing to take a look at this for me?"

After Song Wan finished speaking, she placed her palm on the box lid, her eyes blazing.

This is more than just a test.

It is also the ultimate test, where a wrong answer could result in Song Wan sentencing you to "death".

Lin Mo glanced down at the sandalwood box, then looked at Jiang Ruoyun, whose forehead was damp with sweat.

A helpless, bitter smile appeared on his lips, but that tension was quickly replaced by arrogance.

He slowly walked forward and stood on the other side of the stone table.

"Since Auntie is in such a good mood, then this junior... will respectfully comply."

Song Wan tightened her fingers slightly, and the sandalwood box made a crisp click. A dark, gray shadow, exuding a certain ancient charm, flashed by through the crack.