Volume One, Chapter 70: This Mother Truly Has a Ruthless Heart

When Ye Sheng left the Huo Residence, she never imagined she would one day return to this place.

Once, she had called it “home,” but it held too many tears and wounds. Now, as she stepped back inside, the familiar surroundings made her heart ache uncontrollably.

Scenes of painful memories flooded her mind.

In her previous life, it was in this very courtyard that Huo Mingting strode away holding Huo Cong in his arms, while she knelt on one knee, pleading desperately, unable to make father and son pause even for a moment.

Not a shred of affection from her former husband was exchanged for her humiliation.

That wretched Ye Sheng died in the winter of that year.

Three years had passed since she left. Much had changed. The child had grown; she and Huo Mingting, once husband and wife, were now strangers after the cycle of time.

Indeed, time changes many things.

“Let me,” Huo Mingting said, taking the suitcase from Ye Sheng’s hand. She did not object, lifting her gaze to see Huo Shuting standing above on the steps, wrapped in her cloak, staring coldly at her.

In her previous life, this sister-in-law had always looked down on her, never missing a chance to spar with her.

“I truly didn’t expect to see you again,” Huo Shuting’s words were sharp as ever. “Didn’t you climb the social ladder and marry some wealthy tycoon? Where’s your chauffeured car, then? Why did you come by taxi?”

“Shuting,” Huo Mingting reproached, and Huo Shuting snorted coldly.

Ye Sheng had no interest in exchanging words. She turned to Huo Mingting, saying, “I’m here today only for the child. It was your call that brought me here. If I’m not welcome, I won’t enter.”

She paused at the foot of the steps. “Bring Cong out. I’ll take him to the hospital.”

Huo Mingting frowned, about to speak, but Huo Shuting shouted, “Are you kidding? Cong is sick. It’s freezing outside, and you’d take him out? Brother, didn’t I tell you? She has no heart as a mother!”

“Enough, be quiet,” Huo Mingting interrupted impatiently, his face stern. “I invited her back. If you’re unhappy, leave the Huo Residence—go wherever you please.”

“Brother, you’re divorced and you still defend her…” Huo Shuting stamped her feet in anger.

“That’s enough. This squabbling is disgraceful.”

Huo Madam emerged with a stern face, pulling her daughter aside and addressing Ye Sheng without warmth, “Go see the child first.”

Three years apart, her former mother-in-law’s demeanor remained icy, devoid of any warmth.

Some people had changed in these three years; others hadn’t changed at all.

The familiar feeling returned, but Ye Sheng was no longer moved by these people. She stepped inside, as the servants looked toward her, wishing to address her as “Young Madam,” but, intimidated by the expressions of the lady and miss, dared not speak.

Ye Sheng barely curved her lips at these familiar faces, saying nothing more, and headed upstairs straight to see Huo Cong.

On the phone, Huo Mingting had said Huo Cong had been running a high fever for days, had already gone to the hospital, and received IV fluids.

“All the necessary tests have been done. Minshu said… there’s nothing wrong, all his vital signs are normal. But the low fever persists, and it just won’t break.”

By the bed, Ye Sheng, hands freshly washed, examined Huo Cong as Huo Mingting stood beside her, describing the situation with a furrowed brow. “If the fever continues, I’m afraid his body won’t hold up.”

Huo Cong lay flat on the bed, eyes tightly shut, damp eyelashes fluttering.

Clearly, he was not asleep—just unwilling to open his eyes.

Perhaps he simply did not want to see her.

It was impossible not to feel hurt. Ye Sheng forced herself to endure the sour ache in her heart, rubbed her palms warm, and reached under her child’s shirt to check his temperature. The moment she touched his little belly, Huo Cong grabbed her hand and opened his eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asked coldly.

In those clear, dark eyes, there was not the slightest warmth for his mother.

Ye Sheng was long accustomed to this from her son. Her heart, battered and bruised, could no longer feel pain.

“I’m checking you.”

She pulled her hand free, expressionless. “If you don’t want to see me, just close your eyes and treat me as any ordinary doctor.”

Huo Cong pressed his lips tightly together. He wanted to say:

I wish I could treat you as an ordinary doctor. But are you?