Recently, Qin Nianwan often thought of her daughter who had been away from her for many years. She knew it was because of Qiqi, but she felt conflicted. On one hand, she liked Qiqi for being so sensible and adorable; on the other hand, she saw the shadow of her own daughter in Qiqi.
If she were still alive...
Every ti this possibility crossed her mind, she couldn’t help but want to take out her frustration on Qiqi, to make this girl before her go through what her own daughter had endured. Yet, every ti after hurting her, she would feel a crushing sense of cruelty and remorse, recalling the sight of her trembling, terrified daughter.
At monts like this, she’d lose control and hold Qiqi tightly in her arms, just as she was doing now:
"Does it hurt? I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I won’t hit you again, never again. Please don’t bla ; I didn’t want this either..."
These words—Qiqi had heard them countless tis in the past month. From initially believing them to becoming numb, she couldn’t count how many instances she’d experienced. But this ti, the words felt distant, like they were coming from far away, fading more and more, until they seed to disappear completely.
When Han Lu walked in, she saw Qin Nianwan holding the unconscious Qiqi, apologizing incessantly. Han Lu frowned slightly, staring at the woman before her:
"Stop pretending to cry crocodile tears. You’re not sincerely apologizing—you’re just thinking about Xuanxuan, aren’t you."
At the ntion of Xuanxuan, Qin Nianwan’s gaze turned icy cold as she looked at Han Lu:
"What right do you have to speak of Xuanxuan? She’s dead because of you and Han Jie!"
"Is that so?" Han Lu smiled faintly, sitting in the spot Qin Nianwan had just vacated. "If you believe I’m the one who killed Xuanxuan, then why do you keep going to Su Mu and Fu Shinian? Why tornt this child so brutally? Why not just kill ?"
"You think I don’t want to?" Qin Nianwan carefully placed Qiqi on the wooden bed nearby. "Once things between Fu Shinian and are resolved, our feud will be settled as well."
Han Lu chuckled softly but ignored Qin Nianwan. Ever since Song Zhengxian had died in the underground parking lot three years ago, and Han Lu had escaped, she hadn’t expected to have any further entanglents with Qin Nianwan. After all, Qin Nianwan had been like the walking dead back then. So, when she returned to H Country, Han Lu had naturally sent Xuanxuan to an orphanage. She hadn’t foreseen Xuanxuan falling ill and dying from her condition, nor had she imagined Qin Nianwan could return.
Both won had their own motives, and they cooperated when their interests aligned. Despite any personal grievances between them, as long as the external enemy hadn’t been eradicated, they wouldn’t truly act against one another, no matter the depth of their hatred.
This was sothing Han Lu believed to be true, even if Qin Nianwan wasn’t ntally sound—because ultimately, she had no other allies.
Han Lu remained silent for a mont, her gaze falling on Qiqi. Seeing the child’s frail state, her breathing barely audible—on the brink of stopping—it stirred sothing unfamiliar in Han Lu, prompting her to speak:
"Are you trying to beat this child to death?"
Qin Nianwan had returned to the state of "making Qiqi endure the sa as her daughter." Hearing Han Lu’s words, she glanced at Qiqi and sat opposite her at the table:
"Dead or not, doesn’t she deserve it?"
"Then might as well just kill her outright."
Wen Han heard about Qiqi the next day. This ti, he didn’t call ahead; he brought Wen Shaoyuan and went straight there.
Previously, Wen Shaoyuan had wanted to visit Su Mu, but Su Mu had vanished that night, and he and Fu Shinian were both bedridden for a week. Though Wen Shaoyuan had co, he hadn’t had any opportunity to speak with Su Mu. Now, regardless of whether it was necessary to visit again, even if Su Mu didn’t want to see him, he was determined to co.
Qiqi had been found.
There was news of Qiqi.
This was what Wen Shaoyuan had prayed for in his dreams. Perhaps he had hoped too fervently, for now it felt like a dream co true—and even if it were a dream, he wished never to wake. He was willing to trade everything he had for this.
If ti could be reversed, he wouldn’t ask for his own life. He only wished to be at Qiqi’s side, even if it ant dying with her—anything but staring helplessly as she was left all alone.
When Wen Han and Wen Shaoyuan entered the house, Fu Shinian and the others were dining in the kitchen. Hearing footsteps, they looked up. Seeing Wen Han and Wen Shaoyuan didn’t surprise them. Wen Han hesitated to speak, but Wen Shaoyuan couldn’t hold back:
"Uncle Fu, there’s news about Qiqi, isn’t there?"
As soon as he spoke, Wen Shaoyuan’s eyes reddened. Fu Shinian could see the anticipation in Wen Shaoyuan’s eyes. He wanted to nod and say yes, that Qiqi was upstairs sleeping. But he couldn’t.
Su Mu, hearing Wen Shaoyuan’s voice, turned around and was montarily taken aback by how much thinner he looked. She quickly put down her bowl and chopsticks, stood up, and walked over. Wen Han spoke:
"Finish your al first."
Su Mu: "I’m done."
Wen Han didn’t say anything more, and Fu Shinian also put down his bowl to follow Su Mu. Only Jiang Bei remained seated at the table, watching the scene unfold and sighing inwardly.
The few of them sat down on the sofa. Su Mu pulled Wen Shaoyuan to sit beside her, gently stroking his hair:
"Why did you cut your hair?"
The once neat student haircut had transford into a buzz cut, making him look spirited. With his striking appearance, he suited any hairstyle. If Qiqi were here now, Su Mu could already imagine her eagerly wanting to touch Wen Shaoyuan’s head.
Wen Shaoyuan didn’t answer her question. Perhaps he sensed that Su Mu was in a bad mood, or perhaps he knew talking about Qiqi would sadden her. But he couldn’t hold back any longer—he was desperate to know about Qiqi, not even willing to wait another second.
"Aunt Su, is there news about Qiqi? Where is she? Why haven’t you brought her back ho? Is she okay?"
Su Mu saw Wen Shaoyuan’s urgency. She completely understood his emotions but found herself speechless.
Finally, it was Fu Shinian who spoke, recounting the events from two days ago, including the contents of the phone call from Qin Nianwan. After hearing this, Wen Han and Wen Shaoyuan sat in silence for a long ti. Wen Shaoyuan’s breathing beca subdued. His initial excitent had given way to desolation, leaving him sitting there as if disconnected from the entire world.
Wen Han spoke:
"So, there’s still nothing we can do? Just waiting?"
"Yes." Fu Shinian looked at the silent Wen Shaoyuan. "We’ve tried everything we could, but ultimately, there’s no news. Except for waiting for Qin Nianwan to call again, we can only keep searching as before. But the hope feels so slim."
It had been nearly a week since Qin Nianwan last called. In that ti, there had been no progress—no suspicious individuals on the surveillance footage around Central Plaza. Neither Fu Shinian nor Su Mu was surprised by this.
Outwardly, Su Mu still seed patient, but the way she frequently checked her phone suggested she was nearing her breaking point.
Two days later, Qin Nianwan’s call still hadn’t co through. But, at midnight, Su Mu’s phone received an anonymous email. She had just fallen asleep after drinking milk laced with sleeping pills and didn’t hear the notification. Fu Shinian, engrossed in his work in the study, didn’t hear it either.
So, when Su Mu woke up the next morning and saw the email on her phone, she froze completely. For ages, she didn’t react—her breathing had stopped entirely, not just becoming shallow but halting as if it might never resu. She felt like her heart was breaking as she looked at the photos before her.
When Fu Shinian awoke, he found Su Mu sitting motionless at the edge of the bed. He imdiately got up, not even stepping off the bed, and approached to gently place a hand on her shoulder:
"What’s wrong..."
Before he finished speaking, Su Mu seed to activate so switch, springing to her feet and bolting out of the room. Her speed startled Fu Shinian for a mont, but he quickly ca to his senses, flung the blanket aside, and chased after her. He’d never thought of Su Mu as an athletic person.
But in the short seconds of delay before he could follow her downstairs, Su Mu had vanished. Auntie Lin stood anxiously by the door, unsure what to say. Seeing Fu Shinian descending the stairs, she cried out:
"Mr. Fu, Madam didn’t say a word before running out the door. I saw she wasn’t even wearing shoes. What on earth happened?"
If Fu Shinian knew what was going on, he might not have been this panicked. But at that mont, he was forced to chase down a Su Mu who seed completely transford, without even a mont to gather his thoughts. Running out into the cold of winter in such an unhinged state was too dangerous, and without hesitation, he followed.
The bitter winter wind hit Fu Shinian’s face as he stepped outside. In the distance, he spotted Su Mu standing at a traffic light by the crossroads, panting heavily. Sprinting toward her, he slowed down a few steps behind, seeing her visibly struggle to suppress sothing. She kept hitting her chest over her heart with her right hand as she paced back and forth, seemingly using physical force to relieve her anguish. Her breathing was ragged, and tear streaks marked her face. Despite the icy ground under her bare feet, she appeared oblivious to the cold.
She was suffocating.
That was the only feeling Fu Shinian had at that mont.
He approached her without asking right away what had happened. Instead, he slipped off his shoes, crouched down to put them on her feet, and then looked into her eyes, imdiately noticing how tightly she clutched her phone—so tightly that her knuckles were white.
Standing back up, Fu Shinian reached out to take the phone from her, instinctively sensing it was at the heart of her abnormal reaction. But as soon as his hand brushed the phone, Su Mu instinctively pulled away.
"Susu, let see."
Su Mu looked at Fu Shinian, her breathing gradually steadying. But her emotional state remained chaotic—her expression a ss of complexity, with the most discernible emotion being rage.
Yes, she was furious.
"I..." Su Mu began, her voice trembling from exertion. "I want to kill her! I want to kill her! I have to kill her!"
Fu Shinian frowned as he forcibly snatched the phone from her hand. Unlocking the screen, he imdiately saw the still-open email. Inside were three photos—of Qiqi.
Just a week prior, Qiqi had spoken to him on the phone. Though her tone wasn’t as lively as it once had been, she still sounded healthy. But now, staring at the photos, Fu Shinian felt his gaze burn with fury—the veins in his eyes turning blood-red in an instant.
He understood Su Mu’s murderous intent. Yet he felt her words were too mild. He didn’t just want to kill; he wanted to unleash every barbaric punishnt upon Qin Nianwan imaginable! And even then, it might not satisfy the hatred boiling within him.
Because this was soone so precious to him and Su Mu.
She was a life they held at the very core of their hearts.
She was a part of Su Mu, flesh of her flesh.
She was the child Fu Shinian had desperately longed for, a love he owed so very much.
She was the embodint of their love, their shared bloodline, their deepest bond.
And now?
This person—so vital to them both—was brutally tornted to the point of being unrecognizable by Qin Nianwan. Beyond Qiqi’s emaciated fra, the raw, ghastly wounds covering her body were even harder to bear.
She was just a child—a re three-year-old.
Those whiplashes upon her tiny fra—she hadn’t even the ans to escape. Fu Shinian couldn’t imagine anything she could’ve done besides screaming, aside from crying endlessly to ease her physical agony.
The scars on her skin were both new and old; there wasn’t a single unmarred patch of flesh. Fu Shinian dared not imagine the ordeal Qiqi had suffered in that ti. And as her father, he despaired over his inability to find her, to protect her from this.
Su Mu’s phone buckled in Fu Shinian’s grip, contorting until it finally shattered, the shards cutting into his palm. Yet he felt no pain. Only when drops of blood began falling to the ground did Su Mu notice. She grabbed his hand, her tears spilling uncontrollably, though she was at a loss for words. She wanted to comfort him, wanted to tell him to let go—but she couldn’t.
She couldn’t even comfort herself.
Each ti she thought about those photos, each ti she envisioned what Qiqi was going through, it left her gasping for air.
She’d spent this entire ti loathing herself—for not taking better care of Qiqi, for not agreeing to Qiqi’s wish for her and Fu Shinian to be together sooner. If she had, even a little fleeting happiness might’ve been given to her child.
But now her self-loathing had peaked. She wanted to die. If, as a mother, she couldn’t guarantee her child’s safety, then perhaps she shouldn’t have brought her into this world to suffer such pain and injustice.
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