My husband found an abandoned baby by the side of the road. I raised the child as my own, pouring my heart and soul into his upbringing. I supported him all the way through his Ph.D., and on the day he returned from his studies abroad, my husband finally laid his cards on the table. “How can you be so stupid?” he mocked. “I treat him better than a real son. Can’t you see why?” I smiled, a cryptic, knowing smile. He asked for a divorce, wanting to take our son and reunite with his lover to become a happy family of three. “I agree,” I said, without a flicker of concern. 1 When Nicholas brought the baby home, he was afraid I wouldn’t accept him. He told me he’d found the infant abandoned by the roadside. I cut him off. “You don’t have to say another word. I’ll treat him as if he were my own.” Nicholas was thrilled. He immediately sent me a ten-thousand-dollar bonus. I accepted it without a change in my expression. To refuse would have aroused his suspicion. After setting the baby down, Nicholas rushed off to a meeting at his company. I called my neighbor, Mrs. Gable, to come and watch the baby for a bit. Then I hurried to the supermarket to buy the best quality formula, stroller, and diapers. Once I had everything, I rushed back, breathless and exhausted. “Claire,” Mrs. Gable said, “you kept this a secret so well! I had no idea you were even pregnant.” “He’s not mine,” I replied. “Nicholas found him.” She laughed. “Look at you, all sweaty. Even a birth mother wouldn’t fuss this much. Found him? Don’t be silly.” I didn’t explain. I just thanked her and busied myself with the baby. I soon realized that formula alone wasn't enough, so I hired a wet nurse. When Mrs. Gable heard about it, she came over to scold me. “That’s not right, you know. A baby needs his mother’s milk, or he won’t bond with you when he’s older.” I didn’t want to explain, so I just said I wasn’t producing enough milk. Mrs. Gable patiently gave me tips on how to increase my supply, like eating more pig’s trotters for protein. I nodded along, my mind elsewhere. Finally, she left. The baby was asleep. I went to the window and stood there for a long time, watching the willow branches sway in the cold wind. A perfect plan began to form in my mind. 2 The next morning, before Nicholas left for work, his mother burst in, shouting, “Just because you picked up a random child, you’re going to give him the family name? How are we supposed to face our ancestors?” Her gaze fell on me, and her anger flared anew. “What’s the use of a barren hen? If you had married another woman, we would have had grandchildren by now.” Nicholas and I had been married for five years without children. My mother-in-law blamed me. The truth was, the problem wasn’t with me, it was with him. He was the one who didn’t want to have children with me, but he told everyone I was the one who couldn’t conceive. Only I knew the truth. But I never said a word. Whenever his mother started in on me, Nicholas would change the subject. This time was no different. “Mom, I bought you some imported ginseng from overseas. I’ll have Michael deliver it to you when it arrives.” But this time, she wasn’t so easily placated. “Son, I’m not against you raising a foundling, but you have to give me a child of your own blood! I want a blood-relative! Blood! Do you understand?” Stunned by her aggressive tone, Nicholas glanced at me and then pulled his mother into another room. I could just barely hear his hushed voice through the crack in the door. “Don’t worry, Mom. One day, I’ll give you a surprise.” I smiled silently. A surprise? I just hope it doesn't turn into a shock for you. After some time, the neighbors gradually learned the truth. None of them could understand my actions. “If you want a child so badly, why not have your own? Why raise a foundling like a treasure?” “Maybe she can’t have children?” “Modern medicine is so advanced. If you want a child, you can have one.” “I don’t know what that woman is thinking.” Mrs. Gable came over to talk to me. “So the baby really was found by your husband. Why are you being so foolish? No matter how good you are to him, he’s not your own.” “Sooner or later, his real parents will come looking for him and take him away.” “So, if you want a child, you have to have your own. People use IVF all the time now. The reproductive clinic in the city is very famous. A lot of people who couldn’t conceive went a few times and it worked out.” “I have a relative who works there. I can make a call, and you and your husband can go straight there.” I smiled and shook my head. “Mrs. Gable, thank you for your kindness. But I think this is fine.” She touched my forehead, her eyes looking at me as if I were insane. 3 Later, through Mrs. Gable, the story spread like wildfire. The rumors were ugly. Some said I had lost my mind. Others said I was mentally ill. Still others claimed I was trying to become an internet celebrity, desperate for fame. I didn’t care about any of it. When it came time to name the child, Nicholas was incredibly invested. He left his company in the hands of his assistant and spent three days at home, poring over dictionaries. In the end, he chose the nickname “Leo” and the full name “Leona.” A girl’s name for a baby boy. Every evening when he came home from work, Nicholas would hold the baby, whispering “Leo, Leo.” Sometimes, as he said the name, his gaze would drift to the window, as if he were lost in a trance. I saw it all. I pretended to know nothing, and the plan that had been brewing in my mind for so long became even more refined. Leo grew up day by day under my meticulous care. When it was time for him to start school, I dropped him off and picked him up every day, rain or shine. I had the highest attendance rate of all the parents. Over time, many of the other parents got to know me. When they found out Leo was a foundling, they were all surprised and confused. Especially when Leo turned out to be an excellent student, always at the top of his class. Many parents would say to my face, “It’s one thing if the child isn’t bright, but he’s so smart. His birth parents will definitely come back for him one day, and then all your efforts will have been for nothing.” I never said anything in response, just smiled. I became even more dedicated to the child, taking better and better care of him. One day, Nicholas, who never bought me gifts, surprised me with an expensive silk scarf. He said it was a reward for being so good to Leo. I said, “He’s our child. Why are you being so formal?” He was taken aback for a moment, then quickly nodded. “Right, right, you’re right. We shouldn’t be.” After he said that, he turned away, a smug, mysterious smile spreading across his face. I smiled too, a secret smile. Nicholas, you think I’ve been kept in the dark all this time. You think you’re so clever. But you have no idea that there’s someone even more clever than you. But that someone isn’t me.
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