Volume One, Chapter 89: The Ex-Husband Declares War on Ninth Master (Huo Mingting, Have Some Shame)

After a moment’s hesitation, Huo Mingting finally voiced the thoughts he’d been holding back.

“None for me?”

Even as he asked, a flush crept up his cheeks.

Ye Sheng had already gathered his meaning from his tone earlier, but she hadn’t expected him to actually ask outright. Her estimation of President Huo’s shamelessness rose yet again.

“Huo Mingting, have you no shame?” Ye Sheng no longer bothered with niceties.

Huo Mingting, however, seemed to grow even more interested; perhaps the harder something is to obtain, the more one desires it.

“I’ll pay. Will you knit for me?”

“Not a word unless you’re offering a million.”

“Fine. One million, then.”

Ye Sheng’s hand paused mid-motion.

She looked up slowly to find Huo Mingting’s face alight with excitement, as though this were some amusing little game.

“You’re certainly generous with yourself, Mr. Huo,” she said with a faint smile. “You didn’t even offer that much as a breakup fee when we divorced.”

A flash of heat burned across Huo Mingting’s face, as though struck by lightning.

His smile vanished instantly.

After his bath, Huo Cong realized his father wasn’t here to take him home and felt relieved. He waved cheerfully at Huo Mingting and retreated into his own room.

This child… waving him off so nonchalantly, without even a token attempt to make him stay.

“You should go now,” Ye Sheng said, finally issuing her guest an ultimatum. “It’s late. I need to rest. I have work tomorrow.”

Huo Mingting left, disgruntled, only to run into Huo Lintong in the corridor, holding a black trash bag.

Ye Sheng was startled. “Lintong, you’re still up so late?”

“Mm.” Huo Lintong replied, “Just taking out the trash.”

Huo Mingting narrowed his eyes. The property management fees in this complex were far from cheap—every household had their garbage picked up and disposed of by cleaning staff; there was no need for the owner to do it themselves. Besides, they had a housekeeper.

Such a poor excuse, but Huo Mingting couldn’t exactly call him out on it. He could only grit his teeth in silence.

Huo Lintong escorted him downstairs and tossed the trash into an empty bin. The night was deep and the neighborhood silent; the sound wasn’t loud, but somehow it made Huo Mingting frown.

For some reason, he felt an odd sense of projection, as if the old man saw him as nothing more than a bag of garbage to be thrown away.

“Go on then,” Huo Lintong said, turning to leave.

“Ninth Grandpa,” Huo Mingting called after him.

He straightened his back, as if declaring war. “I intend to win Ye Sheng back. Cong’er deserves a complete family, and so do I.”

Huo Lintong half-turned, his face in the lamplight colder than the winter night itself. “A complete family? And what do you take Ye Sheng for?”

Huo Mingting’s expression grew solemn. “As my wife, of course. My future partner.”

Huo Lintong’s deep eyes studied him in the darkness.

“If you could do that, Ye Sheng would never have divorced you.”

A heaviness settled on Huo Mingting’s chest. He understood perfectly—the implication was clear: You failed before, and you’ll fail again.

“I neglected her before,” Huo Mingting said, each word earnest. “I was too young and had no idea what marriage truly meant. I blundered into it. But now I understand what I’ve lost, and I want to get back what I let slip away. Better late than never.”

At this, Huo Lintong’s lips quirked with the hint of a smile. Whether he was amused by Huo Mingting’s arrogance or his naivete was unclear. Just as Huo Mingting thought he’d be persuaded to give up, Huo Lintong merely replied, “Then good luck to you.”

Huo Mingting watched the man’s tall figure disappear into the darkness, feeling a crushing weight in his chest for reasons he couldn’t name.

He closed his eyes and opened them again, gaze now icy.

He could sense the scorn in the old man’s brief smile—a disdain that didn’t see him as a worthy rival.

His knuckles had turned white at some point, and he bit down on his back teeth. Very well—his competitive spirit was thoroughly roused.

He believed Ye Sheng still had feelings for him, however faint. And as long as there was even a spark left, he would fight to seize it.

Besides, there was Cong’er, the living bond between himself and Ye Sheng.

Blood ties conquer all.

Huo Mingting had never backed down from a challenge. Even if his opponent this time was his own grandfather, he was confident he would win. After all, he was still young, wasn’t he?

Turning away, his eyes burned red at the corners, filled with ambition, desire, and a resolve that brooked no defeat.

Once in his car, he called Huo Shuting, instructing her and her boyfriend to move to another villa and vacate the apartment at Lanting International for him. He needed to shorten the physical distance between himself and Ye Sheng as soon as possible.

Next, he called the flower shop and ordered 1,314 red roses.

“Deliver them to the Department of Hematology at Haici Hospital, for Dr. Ye Sheng. Sender: Restart.”