Volume One, Chapter 63: Who Is Xiaobei’s Mother?

Ye Sheng darted out like the wind under the gaze of everyone, leaving Qin Minshu on stage bewildered: Was she out of her mind?

Gone.

Vanished.

Ye Sheng stared blankly at the corridor ahead—empty and desolate. She had clearly seen him, yet he had slipped away, as if that fleeting moment had been nothing more than an illusion. But she could not forget those eyes!

Those cold, blade-like eyes that could pierce straight into her heart, sharp as a hawk’s.

All color had drained from her face; standing there, Ye Sheng felt icy cold throughout.

“Ye Sheng.”

A familiar gentle voice called her soul back from wherever it had wandered. She trembled in Huo Lindong’s grasp, and he sensed the chill in her body, his gaze sharpening. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

Ye Sheng noticed a group of people not far away, glancing over—most likely the medical doctors who had come with Huo Lindong. She shook her head lightly and murmured that she was fine.

Huo Lindong instructed the others to go ahead, then guided Ye Sheng to a bench at the side of the corridor. She sat, and only after some time did warmth return to her limbs.

A cup of hot water was handed to her. Ye Sheng looked up, meeting Huo Lindong’s concerned gaze. She managed a faint smile and accepted it. “Thank you.”

Huo Lindong was at Haici Hospital for professional guidance today.

He was dressed with particular formality—a steel-gray suit, calm and understated. Perhaps it was his powerful aura that made people hesitant to meet his gaze and thus overlook his striking features. Yet whenever Ye Sheng saw that face, she could not bear to look away.

The three brothers were all handsome in their own ways. Ye Zhun possessed the cold allure of an iceberg; the third brother embodied rugged strength. As for Huo Lindong… Ye Sheng thought he resembled a cigarette she had once smoked by chance.

Classical, enchanting, sometimes intense, sometimes subtle, possessing a heady intoxication.

“Lindong,” Ye Sheng suddenly asked, “have you ever loved anyone, or hated anyone?”

Huo Lindong looked at her. “No.”

His unhesitating reply startled Ye Sheng.

“No one is worth loving, and no one is worth hating.” Huo Lindong spoke calmly, “You mean in terms of emotion. Unfortunately, I am a blank slate in that area—no experience to share.”

Ye Sheng had only asked on a whim, never expecting such an answer. Her eyelids twitched. “What about Xiaobei’s mother?”

The moment the words left her lips, she realized her impertinence and hastily apologized. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s nothing.”

Huo Lindong didn’t mind, merely replying, “To be honest, I’d very much like to meet her.”

Ye Sheng was taken aback.

She wasn’t sure what he meant, nor what had transpired between him and Xiaobei’s mother, but she didn’t pursue the matter. She had already asked too many questions today—perhaps it was the lingering chill in her body, craving some warmth.

—

Qin Minshu shamelessly retrieved her resignation letter from the director’s office.

No matter how others saw her or discussed her in private, Qin Minshu now had but one goal: to secure the position of Huo’s wife at all costs!

Her mother was right—only tangible benefits truly mattered. Her identity as a doctor was merely a stepping stone to becoming Huo’s wife, nothing more.

That evening, after work, Qin Minshu went to the old Huo residence, bringing gifts for Madam Huo and Huo Shuting, her sweet words delighting Madam Huo.

Madam Huo said, “Shuting, call your brother and ask him to bring Cong’er home for dinner tonight.”

Huo Mingtin had to work overtime, so the driver brought Huo Cong to the old house first.

Huo Cong was sleepy, having napped in the car; when he got out, he hadn’t fully woken and forgot to take off his hat.

He entered the main hall wearing a blue knitted cap. Huo Shuting frowned immediately.

“Where did you get that hat?”

As she spoke, Huo Shuting snatched the cap off his head.

His head suddenly felt cold, and Huo Cong glanced nervously at his aunt. “…A classmate gave it to me.”

He was terrible at lying; the truth slipped out as soon as he opened his mouth.

Huo Shuting exposed him coldly, “It was Ye Sheng, wasn’t it? I know she’s back. Cong’er, did she teach you to lie?”

Huo Cong’s face went pale, and he shook his head in denial.

Huo Shuting sneered, “I buy you hats worth thousands and you don’t wear them, but you’re fond of this cheap, ten-yuan street junk. The inferior genes are certainly strong. Your taste is nothing like the Huo family’s—all inherited from your mother, from her humble origins and low-class background.”

With that, she tossed the cap into the trash.

“You’re not allowed to wear that anymore—it’s utterly tacky. I’m a fashion blogger; I won’t let you embarrass me!”

Huo Cong watched as the little blue hat, now stained and dirty, landed in the garbage, his face ashen and his body engulfed in an icy chill.

“All right, all right, enough,” Qin Minshu approached, gently touching Huo Cong’s head. “Cong’er, it’s okay. If you like knitted hats, Auntie will buy you one.”

“What Auntie? Isn’t he supposed to call you Mom now?” Madam Huo remarked.

Qin Minshu smiled sweetly and clung to Madam Huo’s arm, acting coy. “Changing how he calls me depends on Mingtin’s approval. I need proper status before I can openly be Cong’er’s mother.”

Madam Huo laughed, about to speak, when she saw Huo Cong suddenly start to bleed from both nostrils. Alarmed, she cried, “Cong’er!”

Huo Mingtin entered the old house to find chaos inside.

Qin Minshu was frantically trying to stop Huo Cong’s bleeding. Huo Mingtin’s brow furrowed, “What happened?”

He stepped forward and took his son. Huo Cong’s face was deathly pale, his body trembling, his eyes locked onto the trash bin.

Dirty.

The hat she had knitted for him was dirty.