It was night.
“Wuu… wuu…”
“Mommy.”
“Mommy…”
Qin Baozhu felt her whole body turning cold one moment and hot the next.
Her temples throbbed in pain.
Something was crawling over her, pushing against her while crying and calling her “mom.”
She was only eighteen—how could she possibly be someone’s mother? Where did this stray kid come from, rolling all over her and even mistaking her for his mom?
“Mommy, wake up… Ruìruì will never eat candy again, wuuuu…”
Qin Baozhu felt sweat soaking her from head to toe, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t open her eyes. Her limbs were heavy as if they weighed a thousand jin—she couldn’t lift even a finger. She felt trapped in a nightmare, her consciousness drifting, on the verge of being swallowed by darkness.
Meanwhile, the kid by her ear only got louder, pushing her shoulder, crying and shouting for her to wake up.
Qin Baozhu absolutely couldn’t stand children crying. She forced her eyes open and rasped in irritation, “Shut up! Stop crying! And you’ve got the wrong person—I’m not your mom!”
The little carrot-head squatting by her pillow, with neat bangs and a face carved like jade—so pretty it was hard to tell if it was a boy or girl—looked about three or four years old. But his cotton jacket was clearly styled for boys. His delicate face was covered in glittering tears. He stared at her in a daze for a moment, then burst into loud sobs again, tears streaming:
“Daddy! Mommy doesn’t recognize me anymore—wuuuu!”
Downstairs, just as Zhou Fuguang was discussing Qin Baozhu’s condition with Jiang Canran, he heard Zhou Jingrui’s wailing. His expression changed instantly. He set down the little girl in his arms—Zhou Shēng, dressed in a bright red padded jacket—and hurried upstairs.
Jiang Canran followed right behind him, picking up Zhou Sheng along the way.
When Zhou Fuguang reached the second floor, he saw Zhou Jingrui running out of the bedroom in tears, clinging to his leg as he wailed, “Daddy, Mommy said she’s not my mom, she doesn’t know me anymore—wuuuu!”
Zhou Fuguang frowned.
Ever since the time Qin Baozhu had a toothache and the town dentist found cavities… the household sugar jar had been strictly monitored.
But Jingrui—good in every way—had unfortunately inherited Qin Baozhu’s sweet tooth.
Yesterday at noon, when he suddenly craved candy, he and Qin Baozhu schemed together to sneak to the small shop in town to buy some behind his back.
The road was slippery from the snow, and Qin Baozhu accidentally slipped and fell into the river on the way home.
Fortunately, a passerby quickly pulled her out.
But whether from shock or something else, she had never regained consciousness.
Just moments ago, Zhou Fuguang had been discussing with Jiang Canran whether they should take her to the county hospital.
“Zhou Jingrui,”—normally calm and patient, even he felt a spark of irritation seeing his son like this—“can you stop crying? Your mom can barely speak, how could she possibly—”
“She really said she didn’t know me!”
“You—”
“Who are you people?”
A soft, weak female voice drifted from the bedroom doorway.
Zhou Fuguang lifted his head.
There stood Qin Baozhu in the silk lace nightdress he personally bought for her from the city. She leaned against the doorframe, swaying, lifting her head to look in his direction.
Her gorgeous little face was filled with confusion as she surveyed the group of people. Her black-and-white eyes, though full of panic, still glowed with spirit and a hint of imperiousness.
Holding her forehead, she pointed at them and asked, “Where is this? Is this your house? Why am I here? Is that child yours? He must’ve mistaken me—I’m not his mother.”
Zhou Fuguang’s pupils shrank bit by bit.
Zhou Jingrui clung to his leg again, bawling, “Daddy, Mommy really doesn’t know me! No—she doesn’t recognize you either!”
“Quiet.”
Zhou Fuguang, head pounding from the noise, pried his son off and handed him to Jiang Canran, whose expression was a tangle of shock and disbelief.
“Canran,” Zhou Fuguang said, his voice steady as always, eyes fixed on Qin Baozhu, “take Jingrui downstairs. I’ll talk to her.”
“…Alright.”
Carrying Jingrui and Zhou Sheng, Jiang Canran glanced at Qin Baozhu again.
Over the years, Zhou Fuguang had treated Qin Baozhu like a priceless treasure—spoiling her to no end. People never understood why a man of his status would raise a “fool.”
Beautiful beyond any girl for miles, yes—but still a “simpleton.”
Eventually, everyone got used to it.
And when Zhou Fuguang was busy with work, the neighbors would all help watch over her.
But now…
Had she actually woken up?
Jiang Canran walked downstairs, watching as Zhou Fuguang’s tall figure entered the bedroom. The little fool who clung to him every day was now standing at the door, her face full of wariness—her eyes showing no dependence, only tension and hostility.
She felt a pang of sympathy for Zhou Fuguang.
A little sweetheart who used to cling to him every day… suddenly becoming like this? Who the hell could endure that?
“Let’s talk.”
Inside the bedroom, Zhou Fuguang sat on the sofa, loosening his collar.
Qin Baozhu lifted her head to look at him.
The man sitting there was tall, broad-shouldered, long-legged. He wore a white shirt, and his features were strikingly proper—the face of a gentleman.
The furnishings in the room would be considered extravagant for this era.
Qin Baozhu, born into a wealthy family, recognized immediately that the sofa he sat on was genuine leather.
The four-piece bedding on the large bed was real silk.
And the nightdress she was wearing…
Realization hit her like a lightning bolt.
“Y-you—you—” Her hand trembled as she pointed at the man’s face. “Where are my clothes?!”
Zhou Fuguang looked at her wide, incredulous eyes and actually chuckled. “What do you mean ‘where’? What you’re wearing is yours.”
Her clothes?
Impossible.
She remembered perfectly—she had a fight with her family, ran away from home, boarded a train. But on the train, somehow, she fell out of the window… and then nothing.
Did this man rescue her?
Judging by his appearance and background—wealthy, respectable—not like a bad person.
Suppressing the discomfort of realizing her clothes had been changed, she forced a smile. “Thank you for saving me. My home is in Hucheng. Could I trouble you to send a telegram to my parents? They’ll come get me. Don’t worry—we’ll compensate you generously.”
The man looked at her but didn’t answer.
He had the kind of face that naturally put people at ease—handsome and upright.
Yet for some reason, Qin Baozhu felt uneasy around him.
Even though she had never seen him before… he looked strangely familiar.
After a long moment, he smiled.
A gentleman’s face—but that smile carried something faintly predatory.
A chill ran down her spine.
She quickly looked away.
She eyed the closed door and hurried over to try opening it.
But no matter how she twisted the handle, she found it locked from the outside.
Behind her, the man rose from the sofa.
He walked toward her unhurriedly.
His tall figure cast a shadow over her, and her slender, fair nape was exposed before him.
Qin Baozhu swallowed, her legs going weak, fear creeping up her spine.
The man leaned closer, his rough, dry palm wrapping around her hand on the doorknob.
He lowered his voice beside her ear and said:
“Qin Baozhu, I picked you up at the train station six years ago. If not for me, you’d have been sold to an old bachelor for 150 yuan.”
“That child just now is your son. This place is your home. You’ve already given me three children. Where exactly do you think you can go?”