Volume One, Chapter Twelve: Yes, He Is Stronger Than You

Huo Lindong held the child in his arms, his hat pulled low, concealing his features so thoroughly that Huo Mingting still couldn’t catch a glimpse of his face. He could only note the man’s tall stature, his broad back, and the inexplicable sense of familiarity that lingered in his silhouette—especially when he caught a fleeting glimpse of his profile. Yet, no matter how he tried, he couldn’t place who it was.

His gaze then fell upon the child, who looked to be about the same age as Cong’er. It was impossible for the child to have been born after Ye Sheng and he divorced. If she had truly dared to betray him like that…

At the thought, Huo Mingting’s expression turned icy, his eyes frosted with cold anger. His fingers dug into the wall with such force that he gouged out a chunk of plaster.

But something still didn’t add up. In those years, Ye Sheng had rarely left the house; her every movement had been under his watchful eye. How could she have had a child in secret? And the child bore the surname Huo as well…

A sudden realization struck Huo Mingting. When they’d first married, he had spent more than half a year abroad, developing new markets. Could it be that the enemy was within his own household?

He quickly dialed the butler at the Huo residence. “Uncle Mao, I need you to check something for me…”

He instructed the butler to investigate all the children born to the Huo family’s staff—particularly those who had been away for research for several years—and to focus on any who might be connected to Ye Sheng.

At this point, he found himself unable to trust any man.

—

Huo Lindong didn’t let Ye Sheng accompany them outside, worried she might catch a chill. She handed him the umbrella and took the elevator back upstairs, only to find Huo Mingting standing there as the doors slid open.

The heart Huo Mingting had just managed to calm jolted wildly at the sight of Ye Sheng. He seized her wrist and pulled her out.

“Huo Mingting, what are you doing? Let go of me!”

She flung him against the wall with such force that he winced, pain etched deep in his brow. This woman was growing more brazen with him by the day.

Gritting his teeth against the ache in his back, Huo Mingting crossed his arms, adopting a cold, imperious stance. “Talk.”

Ye Sheng frowned. “About what?”

“Three years ago, you insisted on divorcing me. Was it because of that man just now? Who is he? What does he do? Is he better than me?”

A barrage of questions tumbled from Huo Mingting, each one fueling his anger.

Ye Sheng understood his misunderstanding, but his interrogative posture was almost laughable. Ignoring his earlier nonsense, she simply replied, “Yes, he’s better than you.”

Huo Mingting froze.

She twisted the knife, “In every way.”

Such words were a barrage to any man’s pride—like an artillery shell to the heart.

Huo Mingting was so furious he felt dizzy.

He ground his molars, about to demand in what way the man surpassed him, when Qin Minshu suddenly appeared. “What’s going on here?”

She seemed ready for bed, dressed in a nightgown that did little to conceal her figure.

Ye Sheng’s pupils contracted as she instantly recognized the apricot nightdress as one she herself had worn before—torn once by Huo Cong, mended with her own stitches. Others might not notice, but she did, at a glance.

Even old clothing didn’t bother Qin Minshu in the least. Ye Sheng was well aware that some people had peculiar tastes; they relished using things others had used, sleeping with men others had slept with.

“Why are you coming out dressed so lightly?” Huo Mingting barely finished speaking before Qin Minshu sneezed. He immediately took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders, offering warmth.

Qin Minshu replied coquettishly, “You’re being overly dramatic.”

Ye Sheng watched her, thinking that coquettishness was a quality that depended entirely on the person.

She knew men liked gentle, compliant women. She had once tried to change herself for Huo Mingting’s sake, altering her appearance and her temperament to match his preferences.

In the process, she had lost all sense of herself.

She had clipped her own wings, bound herself with chains, confined herself to the narrow place behind Huo Mingting, pouring all her strength into loving and giving, yet had never earned even a second glance from him.

Love and indifference are so starkly contrasted—no amount of effort could force them to change.

Ye Sheng gave a bitter smile in her heart. Refusing to be a third wheel, she turned to leave.

Huo Mingting called after her, his voice cold. “We’re not finished here.”

“There’s nothing left to say between us,” Ye Sheng replied coolly. “Even if I remarry three more times, it has nothing to do with you.”

Unmoved by the darkening of Huo Mingting’s face, she spoke with finality, “Huo Mingting, you and I are over. You’re just a man from my past—don’t flatter yourself.”