Volume One, Chapter 31: The Swindler Who Stole My Wife

Ah...

Huo Xiaobei opened her mouth, looking toward Ye Sheng.

There was little expression on Ye Sheng's face, but her complexion visibly dimmed, as though a shadow had settled over her, swallowed up by storm clouds.

Qin Minshu’s eyes flashed. She stepped forward, draped her arm around Huo Cong’s shoulders, and said to Ye Sheng, “Children don’t mean what they say, don’t take it to heart.”

“But,” Qin Minshu’s tone shifted, “I didn’t know you’d be here with your husband and child today. Mingting went to the restroom. If you wanted to see him, you could’ve just told me. There’s no need to orchestrate some accidental encounter, is there? Ye Sheng, we’re not kids anymore. Why play these childish games?”

Ye Sheng glanced at the pair, her expression indifferent. “You’re imagining things.”

She had no desire to explain or vindicate herself; she merely forced down the piercing pain within her and looked at Huo Cong. “If you don’t want to see me, then if we happen to meet in the future, just pretend you don’t know me. There’s no need to come over and talk. If there’s anyone you dislike, just don’t speak to them. That’s your right.”

Huo Cong pressed his lips together, his gaze cold and heavy as it shot toward her.

Ye Sheng tried her best to ignore the way her son glared at her, though her heart had gone numb with pain.

Sometimes she reflected, wondering what unforgivable crime she had committed to make Huo Cong hate her so deeply, to loathe her so much.

They were mother and son, bound by blood. Shouldn’t they be closest of all?

Yet some relationships are impossible to mend. If the best moment is missed and both hearts are scarred beyond healing, perhaps the wisest course is simply to avoid each other.

Ye Sheng turned away and continued dressing Huo Xiaobei.

Huo Lintong walked over, sensing the tension in the air, his expression shifting. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Ye Sheng replied. “Let’s go.”

Huo Xiaobei looked at Huo Cong, whose face was scrunched up like a steamed bun once again, and shook his head with a sigh.

The little brat—his words really stung.

When Huo Mingting returned, he saw Huo Cong standing in the hallway, fists clenched, eyes red, while Qin Minshu was quietly coaxing him.

“What’s wrong?” Huo Mingting hurried over, crouched down, and gently pinched his son’s chin. “Don’t bite your mouth so tight, you’ll get a headache.”

He looked at Qin Minshu. “What happened?”

Qin Minshu glanced toward the door. “I think Ye Sheng overheard when I called you earlier this evening. She’s here with her husband and son for dinner, and we just happened to run into them.”

Huo Mingting’s face darkened at once. So it was deliberate!

She had remarried, had a new husband and child, and now came to sow discord between him and his son!

Furious, Huo Mingting rushed out, intent on confronting Ye Sheng.

But he was a step too late. The trio had already gotten into their car, and all he saw was the back of it—a Bentley with a capital city plate.

Unable to let it go, he called Chu Yue. “How’s the investigation going on that research institute I asked you about?”

Chu Yue was still working overtime, his tone irreverent. “Funny you should mention it. That institute is strange, all right. My buddy spent ages digging around, but couldn’t find anything useful. It’s shrouded in mystery. If nothing else, I’ll make a trip to Meishan myself, but I’ll need to free up some time.”

Huo Mingting frowned, more convinced than ever that the institute was a sham—possibly even a secret base for some criminal gang.

“Then help me check a license plate first, capital city plate...” Huo Mingting recited a string of numbers.

Chu Yue exhaled smoke. “Why are you checking license plates again? Who is this?”

“Who?” Huo Mingting’s laugh was cold, the redness at the corners of his eyes sharp as blood. He spat out, “A con artist who stole my wife!”