Volume One Chapter 1: Abandoned by Her Husband and Child

"Mingting, I never wanted to refuse donating bone marrow to our son..."

Ye Sheng chased after Huo Mingting, trying to explain herself. The man strode towards the car with their child in his arms, but suddenly came to a halt.

"Donate?"

Huo Mingting fixed Ye Sheng with a sharp, cold stare, a mocking smile appearing on his handsome face. "Ye Sheng, I seriously doubt whether Cong’er is really your own child. You’re his biological mother, and yet you’re unwilling to even give him some bone marrow? Have you forgotten? If you hadn’t gotten pregnant back then, I would never have married you, and you’d never have set foot in the Huo family!"

His words made Ye Sheng tremble. Her heart turned numb and sour, her face pale as she tried to step forward and explain, "I really didn’t—"

Her words were cut off by the ringtone of her phone. The man climbed into the car with their child and answered the call, his tone gentle.

"Yes, I’m taking Cong’er to the hospital now. It’s all thanks to you, Minshu."

At the mention of "Minshu," Ye Sheng’s head snapped up.

"Was it Qin Minshu who told you that Cong’er and I were a bone marrow match?"

Ye Sheng’s voice trembled with suspicion. Just yesterday, she had gone to the hospital for the test results, which clearly stated there was no match.

Huo Mingting’s gaze remained icy, tinged with disgust. "Cong’er will have Minshu’s bone marrow transplant. We don’t need you anymore."

It was as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over Ye Sheng’s head, catching her completely off guard.

"What?"

The child in Huo Mingting’s arms turned to look at her, his eyes cold and full of grievance.

"Grandma was right. No mother would hesitate to give her own bone to save her child. You don’t love me. You won’t save me. You don’t deserve to be my mother."

Huo Cong’s small face was calm and indifferent. "Dad, let’s go find Aunt Minshu at the hospital. Let her be my mom from now on."

Ye Sheng felt as if a knife were slicing through her heart, leaving her breathless. "Cong’er, you misunderstand. How could I be unwilling to give you my bone marrow? But your current condition doesn’t yet require a transplant—"

"Enough!"

Huo Mingting knocked her hand aside, preventing her from touching their son. His tone was frigid. "Minshu is Cong’er’s attending physician. Should we listen to you instead of her? Ye Sheng, you studied medicine for years, and yet you disappoint me so much."

The car sped away. Ye Sheng couldn’t catch up, stumbling over her cotton slippers and collapsing to her knees.

The gravel dug into her knees, drawing blood.

She braced herself with trembling hands, her face ghostly pale, her head spinning. It wasn’t just Cong’er who was unwell; she herself was burning with fever. After a sleepless night tending to her son, she hadn’t spared a moment for herself.

As soon as Huo Mingting returned, he insisted on taking her to the hospital for Cong’er’s bone marrow transplant. When she asked a couple of questions, he lost his temper.

Still worried, Ye Sheng followed them to the hospital.

She didn’t see Huo Mingting or Cong’er at first—she ran into Qin Minshu instead.

Qin Minshu wore a spotless, well-fitted white coat, her makeup immaculate, pearl earrings lending her an air of elegance and nobility.

Ye Sheng’s eyes stung when she recognized the pearl earrings—Huo Mingting had brought them back as a gift from his recent business trip abroad. She had thought they were for her, never imagining they’d end up on Qin Minshu’s ears so soon.

"Minshu, what’s going on? Didn’t you say my bone marrow wasn’t a match for Cong’er’s?"

"Mingting said you wanted to donate your bone marrow?"

Qin Minshu produced two reports. "Mingting must have misunderstood. My bone marrow isn’t a match for Cong’er’s—yours is. Mingting’s anxious. Cong’er is already in the operating room. Go prepare yourself."

"But Cong’er’s condition isn’t critical enough to need a transplant yet."

"So what? It won’t hurt to do it anyway," she replied with complete indifference.

"Qin Minshu, you’re being reckless!"

Ye Sheng had barely finished reprimanding her when Qin Minshu turned with a pitiful look to the man behind her. "Mingting, Ye Sheng won’t let me donate bone marrow to Cong’er."

She changed her expression so quickly that Ye Sheng spun around, only to meet Huo Mingting’s icy, merciless face.

"Ye Sheng, from now on, you have nothing to do with Cong’er. Once the operation is over, we’ll divorce, and I’ll have custody of the child."

Ye Sheng’s world spun.

Divorce?

Huo Mingting turned and left, while Ye Sheng was forced onto the operating table.

She wanted to argue with Qin Minshu, but soon the anesthetic took effect. As she glanced at Cong’er’s innocent, lovely face, she gave up resisting.

Cong’er was the child she had carried for ten long months—no one could care for him more deeply than she. Since his leukemia diagnosis, she had spent her days making him laugh and her nights weeping with him in her arms, her heart shattered into countless pieces. If giving bone marrow could save him, she would give it without hesitation—her very life, if need be!

Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier.

When Ye Sheng drifted back to consciousness, she was still on the cold operating table. Through a door, she heard Cong’er calling, "Mom."

She wanted to answer, but someone beat her to it.

It was Qin Minshu!

Her voice sounded so weak.

Then she heard Huo Mingting’s voice—gentle, magnetic, and more tender than she’d ever heard it before. "Thank you, Minshu. Thank you for donating bone marrow to Cong’er."

A chill surged up from the depths of Ye Sheng’s heart, flooding her limbs.

She was the one who had donated bone marrow to her son—how had it become Qin Minshu’s achievement?

A conspiracy! This was all a plot!

"Mingting—" Ye Sheng tried to call out, but a cold figure suddenly appeared behind her and clamped a hand over her mouth. "Mmm!"

She looked up into a pair of eyes as sharp and cold as an eagle’s. Then, she felt a scalpel slash deep across the artery in her left wrist.

Blood sprayed everywhere.

The pain made her feel as if her eyeballs would burst.

Outside the door, Huo Mingting’s gentle voice continued: "I’ll divorce Ye Sheng and give you the place that should have always belonged to you. Minshu, I still love you."

Blood dripped from her wrist, pooling into a lake of crimson.

She was so cold—her whole body was shaking.

She had been married to Huo Mingting for three years, cared for Huo Cong for three years. For them, she’d given up her education, stayed home to raise the child, and put their needs above all else. Her world had revolved around them...

And this was how it ended.

She died on the icy operating table while they tended to another woman with all their care and affection.

Her sacrifices and devotion had only served to pave the way for someone else. They could not win her husband’s conscience or her child’s love.

If life could begin again, she swore she would love only herself.

She would never give her heart away so easily again.

—

"You want a divorce?"

Huo Mingting sat on the sofa, clutching the divorce papers in disbelief.

The woman, dressed in a light apricot loungewear, sat at the edge of the bed, the very picture of a gentle, dutiful housewife—still so meek and well-behaved. Yet her words were colder than ice. "My bone marrow doesn’t match Cong’er’s. I can’t do the transplant. I’m not fit to be Cong’er’s mother."

"What kind of talk is that?" Huo Mingting slapped the papers onto the coffee table, the veins pulsing at his temple. "You want a divorce just for this?"

Ye Sheng’s long lashes fluttered: Wasn’t this the very reason you wanted to divorce me before?

"Yes." Ye Sheng was as dignified as one could be. "What happened all those years ago was an accident. You married me because I was pregnant—with twins, no less. It wasn’t just you who couldn’t let go. I couldn’t either. But in the end, only one survived..."

At the memory of the child who died at birth, a sharp pain twisted in Ye Sheng’s heart.

"All these years, you’ve been fighting out in the world while I stayed home with the child. We’ve called ourselves husband and wife, but we’ve always lived apart. Apart from that one night, you never touched me again. Qin Minshu says she can donate bone marrow to Cong’er. Let’s get divorced—you can marry her."

She smiled gently, as if none of this troubled her in the least. "I know you still love her."

Huo Mingting’s face darkened. "Who told you I still love Qin Minshu!"

Ye Sheng raised an eyebrow: You did.

You said it yourself.

Annoyed, Huo Mingting yanked off his tie, tossed the divorce papers into the trash, and stormed out, trying to rid her of the thought.

Ye Sheng merely gave a careless smile, changed out of her loungewear and into her old clothes, and began packing her things.

She owned so little, one suitcase couldn’t even hold it all.

Downstairs, Cong’er blocked her path, his little face stern. "Why are you divorcing Dad?"

"Is it because I’m sick? Do you not want me anymore?"

"Dad’s the one who’s been supporting us all these years. Without him, how will you survive? I think you’d best stop being so stubborn."

Ye Sheng listened to his barrage of accusations. She had thought her heart would no longer ache, but it still hurt just as much.

Ever since he learned to speak, Huo Cong had been raised in the arms of his grandmother and aunt, believing whatever adults told him.

Ye Sheng had wanted to say goodbye to her child, but the tightness of his little face and the contempt in his eyes left her words stuck in her throat.

This was the child she’d risked her life to bring into the world after ten months of pregnancy... Ye Sheng tried to stroke Huo Cong’s head, but he dodged away.

"If you’re leaving, don’t touch me," Huo Cong said coldly. "It’s better if you go. Aunt Minshu can be with Dad."

Ye Sheng’s hand froze in midair.

No knife from a man could ever cut as deep as the one wielded by her own son.

She said nothing more, only smiled with resignation, picked up her suitcase, and left the "home" she’d lived in for three years.

Once out of the villa district, she climbed into a black Cayenne.

The driver had a close-cropped head, a rugged, masculine face, and an air of rough confidence. "So, have you decided where to go?"

Ye Sheng leaned wearily into the leather seat, tapped a menthol cigarette out of its pack and lit it.

"I’ll go to Y country first and get my doctorate. I’ve been on leave for three years—if I don’t return soon, my brother will really disown me."

"Glad you know it."

The rugged man gave her a roguish grin and ruffled her hair. "Welcome home, little fairy Ye."