When the female lead appeared, I was already pregnant with Arthur's child. Unable to fight against fate, he had once disregarded everything to break his engagement with the female lead for me, yet because of her, he came to hate me to the bone, finding even a single glance at me repulsive. Finally, I was exhausted. I threw away our tangled feelings, and even gave up the child. Until a twilight six years later. A tender-faced child knocked on my door. Looking like a stern little adult, he said: "My dad doesn't want me anymore. Can I stay with you?" 1 I froze for a moment, speechless. Arthur Jr. pursed his lips in displeasure. Looking up with his beautiful little face, he stated matter-of-factly: "My teacher said parents have a duty and responsibility to raise their children..." The half-open door interrupted his unfinished sentence. I stepped aside slightly and said calmly: "Come in." The dim light inside illuminated his slightly widened eyes. His eyes flashed inexplicably. He tilted his chin up, gave a "Hmph," and obediently walked in. Closing the door and turning around, I saw Arthur Jr. curiously looking around. Seeing me look at him, he immediately withdrew his gaze, nervously gripped his backpack straps, and said with a tense little face: "My name is Arthur Jr." It sounded like a self-introduction, yet also like a reminder that he was the child Arthur and I brought into the world. I know. From the first glance, I was sure of his identity. Because he looked almost exactly like Arthur. Seeming disappointed by my calm reaction, he turned his head away unhappily and stopped looking at me. I placed his tender yellow backpack in the entryway and led him to wash his hands. "Let's eat first." Arthur Jr. obediently replied with an "Oh." By the time I brought out the food, he had already climbed onto the chair. I asked him why he suddenly came looking for me. Arthur Jr. buried his head, poking at the small green vegetables in his bowl. His drooping little head was black and round, and his voice was muffled: "I got into a fight with him. He smashed things and told me to get out, saying I could never come back." So he ran away from home in a fit of pique. Then Arthur should be coming to pick him up soon. Makes sense. After all, six years ago, the Vance family fought tooth and nail for Arthur Jr.'s custody, and things got very ugly. It's even more impossible for them to not want him now. My chopsticks paused; I couldn't tell what I was feeling at this moment. I didn't know Arthur Jr. was coming tonight, so I only had a simple meal of two dishes and a soup. He was a very picky eater. He didn't eat onions or carrots, leaving him with almost nothing to eat. Arthur Jr. stared at the mashed cabbage leaves with deep resentment, sneaked a glance at me, and guiltily swallowed them. When we first met, he carried a bit of arrogant and spoiled entitlement. Now, seeing him being picky about vegetables, I imagined he was completely pampered and given everything he wanted at the Vance family. He shouldn't have suffered any grievances. I felt a bit relieved. After washing the dishes, I waited for Arthur to send someone to pick him up. I waited until 9:30 PM. Six-year-olds get sleepy early. He dug out his pajamas from his backpack, looked around, and pouted: "There's only one room." "Am I squeezing into one bed with you tonight?" I glanced at the clock on the wall. For some reason, the Vance family still hadn't sent anyone. I had to compromise. "Yeah, you're sleeping with me tonight." I originally thought Arthur Jr. would throw a tantrum. After all, a shabby one-bedroom apartment naturally wasn't as comfortable as the Vance family's luxurious mansion. But Arthur Jr. just pursed his lips, his eyes sparkling. After washing his face and huffing and puffing into his pajamas, he kicked his legs and climbed into bed himself. Just like during dinner—even though he looked disgusted, he still silently finished all the vegetables I put in his bowl. He wriggled under the covers, creating a little mound. He pulled out a fairy tale book from who knows where, peeked his eyes out to secretly look at me, and couldn't help but urge: "Aren't you going to coax me to sleep?" He looked quite happy. 2 After coaxing Arthur Jr. to sleep, I dug up Arthur's number. After hesitating for a long time, I still didn't dial it. Arthur and I had been separated for six years. At first, we thought we could fight fate. Back then, my family suddenly went bankrupt, and the Vance family backed out of our marriage, secretly arranging an engagement between Arthur and Mia. For me, he broke the engagement with Mia despite everything. He even gave up his status as the heir. He took a beating from Old Mr. Vance as a family punishment and couldn't get out of bed for half a month. Seeing my tears, he endured the pain, a lazy smile on his face as he coaxed me in a low voice. I thought things would get better. The bankruptcy would get better, Arthur would get better, the future would get better. But they didn't. Arthur and I got married secretly. Perhaps because of Arthur's unwavering commitment to me from start to finish, I never once thought about getting rid of the baby after I got pregnant. Until the eve of the birth. Enduring the pain, I called for a long time, but Arthur never answered. A neighbor rushed me to the hospital. When I woke up, I saw a cold and indifferent Arthur. I don't know why a person could change so drastically overnight. He looked at me with nothing but unfamiliarity and disgust. Mia came to see me once. From her, I learned the truth about this world. Due to a system timing error, when the late-arriving female lead appeared, the male lead had already developed feelings for someone else. As the price of correction, the male lead's misplaced feelings began to invert. As much as he loved me before, he hated me now. Mia looked at me with a mix of pity and sadness. Before leaving, she asked in a low voice, "Have you thought about what will happen to your child in the future?" I suddenly froze, feeling lost. I didn't know who to hate. Should I hate Arthur? But he couldn't even figure out his own feelings. Should I hate fate? But even if I did, it wouldn't change anything. Then, my parents got into a car accident on their way to visit me at the hospital. They fell into a coma and might remain in a vegetative state for the rest of their lives. I was on the verge of a breakdown. My mind kept replaying Mia's words, and I just felt this bastard world was so, so tiring. I pushed open the window. As I looked down, the baby beside the hospital bed suddenly started wailing loudly. In a daze, I thought, if I died, what would happen to him? Would this world tolerate his existence? Would Mia abuse him? Or would he, like me, be despised by Arthur, endure endless grievances alone, and finally die quietly under the watchful eyes of everyone? I started trembling all over. I went back to the bedside, my hands shaking as they reached for his neck. I wanted to take him with me. But then he stopped crying. His red, teary eyes stared at me pitifully, as if no matter where he went, he just wanted to be with his mother. It wasn't until nurses and bodyguards sensed something wrong and rushed in, pushing me away roughly. I looked down at my trembling hands, suddenly realizing what absurd thing I had done under Mia's suggestion. The news quickly reached the Vance family. Old Mr. Vance specifically asked to see me and started fighting for custody of the child. I didn't ask for anything. I abandoned Arthur, who despised me, gave up custody, and cleanly signed the divorce papers. I only asked for two million dollars. Youth doesn't know the taste of sorrow. The eldest daughter of the Smith family, who used to casually throw around millions, was now driven to a dead end over a few thousand dollars in hospital bills. From beginning to end, Arthur never showed up. He was disgusted by my very existence and didn't even want to look at me. So, I accepted my fate. I threw away our tangled feelings, and even gave up the child. I let him go, and I let myself go. It wasn't until a soft little dumpling buried himself headfirst into my arms that I snapped back to reality. Arthur Jr. hummed with his eyes closed, curling up softly in my arms, as if he had finally found a comfortable position, sleeping soundly. He uneasily clutched the hem of my shirt tightly, as if afraid I would disappear the moment he opened his eyes. Looking at that innocent, tender face, I couldn't help but sigh softly. If he knew his mother wanted to strangle him as soon as he was born, would he still have come looking for me? He'd probably be trying to hide from me. 3 When morning came, Arthur still hadn't shown up. I didn't know what he was trying to do. The Vance family fought so hard for custody back then, making a huge scene, but now they just leave him here. I woke Arthur Jr. up early and called a cab to take him to school. The kindergarten he attended wasn't in the same city as me, but thankfully it was only an hour's drive. Before getting out of the car, he made me promise over and over to pick him up after school, whining and clinging to me, refusing to let go. Until he saw a car parked in front of the kindergarten. His eyes lit up, and he hurriedly pulled me out of the car. As we got closer, he deliberately slowed down and casually stepped in front of a chubby kid who had just gotten out of a car. Seemingly doing it on purpose for him to see, Arthur Jr. swung my hand in front of him. Then very loudly, in a voice everyone could hear, he asked me: "Mom, you're going to pick me up after school, right?" This was the first time Arthur Jr. called me "Mom." Perhaps because of a full six-year absence, he had never proactively called me "Mom" even when he knocked on my door. The chubby kid stared straight at me and said in disbelief: "Since you have a mom, why hasn't she ever dropped you off before?" Arthur Jr. scoffed, his gaze filled with disdain: "My mom is busy with work. She specially took time off today just to drop me off." He emphasized the word "specially." He held my hand, walking toward the kindergarten's main gate in front of everyone, like he was showing off, making sure everyone saw. Before parting, he coyly asked one more time: "...You will come pick me up, right?" Seeing I didn't answer, he glared at me, then said very nervously and quietly: "You promised me in the car. Grown-ups can't lie!" I helplessly squatted down, flattened his flipped-up collar, and ruffled his hair. His hair was dark and soft, feeling nice to the touch. "Okay, I'll be here." He couldn't help but curl his lips into a smile, then tried hard to straighten them. Feigning maturity, he lifted his chin and said reservedly: "Mm, I'll remember to wait for you." I didn't withdraw my gaze until his figure completely disappeared from my sight. I found the teacher and asked about Arthur Jr.'s situation at kindergarten. The teacher hemmed and hawed, finally sighed, frowned, and complained a bit: "I know the Vance family is powerful, and my words might not carry any weight." "But Arthur Jr.'s mom, no matter how busy you are, you can't just ignore your child, right?" "Since he enrolled, no one has ever come to a parent-teacher conference!" "Now all the kids in the kindergarten are saying he doesn't have a mom. If this continues, it's going to be very bad for his physical and mental development." No one ever came to a parent-teacher conference? Even if Arthur was busy and disliked this child, couldn't he even bother having an assistant handle it? I frowned, feeling for the first time that I might have made the wrong decision. ...Maybe I shouldn't have given up custody back then. But I was penniless then, my parents in a coma at the hospital, I couldn't even feed myself. How could I possibly raise a fragile child? I pulled out Arthur's number, hesitated for a moment, but still dialed it. I decided to have a serious talk with him. If Arthur really didn't want to raise him anymore, I would take him with me. Although I couldn't provide him with the kind of excellent conditions the Vance family could, it was more than enough to raise a child. The call had just gone through when a ringtone sounded behind me. Seeming to realize something, my fingertips trembled as I turned around. I saw Arthur stepping out of a black Bentley. Six years had passed. He seemed to have changed, yet also seemed the same. He looked down at the lit-up screen with half-lidded eyes, his wrist bones sharply defined, his handsome, cold face hidden in the shadows. He unhurriedly raised an eyebrow and suddenly looked up. "You've hid from me for so many years." "Want to talk?" Unlike my disheveled state over the years, Arthur had always remained calm and composed. His features were exactly as I remembered, but the look in his eyes when he looked at me was inexplicably deep. Even the light filtering through the treetops seemed to favor him. I heard he had taken over all the Vance family businesses from Old Mr. Vance. I heard the brand he founded swept the globe. I heard he married secretly early on and had always kept a low profile. Memories of the past decade, which I had deliberately ignored, surged forward like a crushing force, bringing a dense pain to my chest. It wasn't until the moment I saw him that I suddenly realized. I thought I had let go. Turns out, I hadn't. Weaving me a grass ring in our youth, kicking the person who bullied me into the pool. No one could have thought we would end up in such an embarrassing state today. Actually, he hasn't changed. He just doesn't love me anymore, that's all. It really has been a long, long time, Arthur. 4 Silent all the way, we found a nearby cafe. Before the coffee arrived, to cover up my feelings, I got straight to the point: "Do you still want the child?" Over the past six years, I had fantasized about reuniting with Arthur in a way that was almost torturous. So much so that I was perfectly capable of feigning indifference now. Arthur glanced at me without hesitation: "Of course I do." I pursed my lips, staring at the street sign outside the floor-to-ceiling window, gave a low "Mm," and stood up. "Then remember to pick him up after school. If you don't have time for parent-teacher conferences, you can let me know. I won't bother you and—" I still couldn't bring myself to calmly say Mia's name. I couldn't help but dig my nails into my palm. The sharp pain brought me back to reality, forcing myself to say: "...won't bother your life together." I checked the time and got ready to leave. As we brushed past each other, I only heard Arthur suddenly ask coldly: "So now you only want to talk to me about Arthur Jr.?" My steps faltered, not quite understanding. Everything between us was settled six years ago. He loved someone else, I took the two million and left cleanly, it was that simple. Besides Arthur Jr., what else was there to talk about? Arthur let out a soft breath, his dark eyes fixed on me, and spoke again: "Alright then, I don't want Arthur Jr. anymore." So self-righteous, as if the one suddenly going back on his word wasn't him. I frowned and couldn't help asking: "What do you mean?" Arthur tilted his chin slightly, tapping the seat across from him, gesturing for me to sit back down. "Exactly what it sounds like." "You want to raise the child, fine. He's yours." "Considering the child's physical and mental health, every Friday night I will come to your current residence to spend the necessary time with Arthur Jr., and drive back to the company early Monday morning." Watching him calmly spewing nonsense, I just felt it was absurd. I couldn't bear it anymore and reminded him: "We are already divorced." "Are we?" Arthur let out an ambiguous sneer. "I didn't sign the papers." I realized the meaning of that sentence a moment too late. Back then, Old Mr. Vance made me sign the divorce agreement. I thought Arthur was so disgusted by me he didn't even want to see me one last time, so he didn't show up from beginning to end. He said he didn't sign it. But then why wait six years to come find me? I wouldn't be so narcissistic as to think he still had feelings for me. Maybe the original agreement got lost, or maybe there was a loophole and we needed a supplementary agreement. Anything was possible. I pursed my lips and cooperated smoothly: "Then we'll sign a new one." Arthur didn't even bat an eye: "Not signing." I reasoned with him patiently: "We sign it and we're even, isn't that great?" "No." "Do you have any concerns? I don't want the shares or the money. Consider it me leaving with nothing." "No." His three "no's" made me both angry and dazed. Perhaps Arthur himself didn't even remember, but this was how he was in his youth. At his birthday party that day, someone cornered me, their gaze frivolous and disrespectful, their words vulgar. Arthur kicked him right into the pool. It caused a huge scene. The guests were all prominent figures in Capitol City, and the elders from several families didn't look pleased. When asked why, Arthur remained silent and offered no explanation. To avoid rumors and protect my reputation, Arthur didn't even mention me from start to finish. He refused to admit he was wrong, and naturally took a beating from Old Mr. Vance. Probably no one would have imagined that the eighteenth birthday of this future business titan was spent in a confinement room. The door was completely locked, and even medicine couldn't be delivered. I huddled outside the door, saying very quietly and guiltily: "I'm sorry." Through the door, he paused, making some rustling sounds. It seemed he sat down by the door too. His voice was a bit muffled, he gave a soft "Oh," and then said: "Not listening." I buried my forehead in my knees and said numbly: "Actually, you didn't have to kick him. Just waiting for him to finish talking would have been fine, he wouldn't dare do anything to me." "No." I didn't say anything more. Maybe my voice was too muffled, and he misunderstood something. After a moment, he added: "No crying allowed." He knocked on the door and clicked his tongue lightly: "I did it willingly. It has nothing to do with you. No crying allowed." I suddenly snapped back to reality, trying my best to hide the sourness in my eyes, but it felt as if I heard his "no crying allowed" from many years ago all over again. Arthur sat in the light, smiling faintly. The fine dust caught in the fragmented light danced around him. The contours of his past had silently sharpened over the years. He looked up and raised an eyebrow at me. As if answering what I had said earlier. "Chloe, we can never be even." 5 I don't quite remember how it ended. I only remember I was so angry I didn't even say goodbye. Because things ended on a sour note with Arthur, I wasn't sure if he was just saying that or if he really planned to do it. I hesitated for a moment but decided not to take a cab back. Perhaps the round-trip fare would cost almost a day's salary. Instead of going back to work, I might as well ask for the day off. Or perhaps it was the maternal instinct, absent for six years, acting up. I didn't want to break my promise to Arthur Jr. Until 4:30 PM, when kindergarten ended. Most of the children in this kindergarten came from prominent families. Amidst the coming and going luxury cars, I saw that Bentley stop in front of Arthur Jr. So I didn't go forward. I turned around and walked slowly in the direction I came from. I suddenly felt my previous worries were ridiculous. What was I thinking? How could the Vance family really let the child go with me? That Bentley quickly drove away, kicking up a thick cloud of dust as it passed by. I inexplicably thought of that tender little face. We probably wouldn't see each other again. I just couldn't help but turn my head to take one look back. After the black car left, revealing the previously blocked road, Arthur Jr. stood alone at the kindergarten gate. He stared at me with his big, round eyes. His eyes lit up, and he was about to charge toward me, but was stopped by the teacher beside him. His little face scrunched up, and he seemed to say something angrily to the teacher. Afraid he'd run across the street recklessly, by the time I snapped back, I had subconsciously walked several steps toward him. The teacher saw me and then let Arthur Jr. come over. He ran, panting heavily, his dark pupils shining. It wasn't until he got close that he slowed down, feigning nonchalance, acting coy yet happy: "...You, you really came to pick me up?" His soft little hand tentatively held my fingertips. Seeing I didn't pull away, he pursed his lips, peeked up at me, and held on even tighter. I gave a soft "Mm," and asked him a bit uncertainly: "Aren't you leaving with him?" Mentioning Arthur, Arthur Jr.'s cheeks puffed up like a little gas tank ready to explode: "I don't want to go with him! And he wasn't here to pick me up!" "He said you work hard dropping me off and picking me up, and said I'd be annoying if I pestered you every day, telling me not to disturb your work." He looked like a child with a strong mind of his own, seemingly very disdainful of Arthur, and added very seriously and proudly: "I'm not as stupid as him!" "I talked to the teacher about transferring schools today! This way you won't have to spend so much time dropping me off and picking me up in the future!" He tilted his little face up, his gaze urging me, seemingly waiting for me to praise him. I couldn't help but pat his round, dark little head. Traffic was heavy on the way back. After buying groceries at the market, the sky grew dark. I held Arthur Jr.'s hand as we walked home. As if suddenly remembering something, he muttered casually: "Oh right, the driver will pick me up after school tomorrow. Dad said I have to go home tomorrow to get my change of clothes." "But I'm still coming back here to sleep! You can't forget me!" Tomorrow is Friday. I instinctively tightened my grip on the plastic bag holding the ingredients for braised pork. I paused for a moment and said warmly, "Okay." Children have short memories. Maybe he'd be coaxed back by his family over the weekend and then forget about me. Every time we met, I treated it as the last time. Because only then, amidst the endless waiting, wouldn't I feel disappointed. 6 By 10:30 PM on Friday, Arthur Jr. still hadn't returned. I calmly put away the pajamas Arthur Jr. had tossed on the edge of the bed earlier, and put the extra dishes I made on the table into the fridge. I turned off the lights, sat in the dark for a while, and closed my eyes. When I woke up again, I heard the pitter-patter of rain outside the window. The sky was barely light. I had nightmares all night and woke up with a splitting headache, throbbing in waves. There were a few unread messages on my phone. Before leaving yesterday, Arthur Jr. hugged my leg and pestered me for my phone number. The earliest voice message was from 12 AM. He sounded a bit guilty, acting tough, yet trying to explain. [I didn't mean to be late!] [I had my clothes ready at six! But Dad got sick again and didn't seem to have the energy to drop me off.] [He's so useless!] The second message was sent half an hour later. Cautious, with a hint of a cry. [Mom, are you angry?] [Do you not want me again?] [I didn't want to stay here either, but, but I had no choice, I didn't have the driver uncle's number—] ... The last message was from ten minutes ago. He took a picture of fever-reducing medicine instructions, asked me what it said, and asked if a child could take this medicine. I quickly called his number back. The phone was answered in a second, and a sobbing voice came from the other side. "Mom." My phone was on 'Do Not Disturb' automatically at night. I couldn't imagine how terrified and anxious Arthur Jr. must have been all night. Not wanting to scare the child, I took a deep breath, tried to steady my voice, gripped the phone tightly, and asked gently: "Do you have a fever? Can you tell Mom where you feel uncomfortable?" He sneezed on the other end. He didn't answer the question, but asked cautiously, his voice thick with congestion: "Mom, can you come pick me up?" I knew it. I couldn't refuse. 7 Following the location Arthur Jr. provided, I found a villa complex in Capitol City. It seemed they were notified in advance, as the security guards didn't make things difficult for me and easily let me in. Standing before the door, I couldn't help but feel that this villa looked a lot like my former home. Just as I was about to press the doorbell, a hand blocked me. I saw Mia's reflection on the doorbell screen. My pupils shrank. My mind went blank. Mia frowned, seeming unable to understand: "Why are you here?" I almost reflexively slapped her hand away. Under her shocked gaze, I pursed my lips: "I came to pick up Arthur Jr." Mia froze, seeming to realize something, and said pointedly: "Actually, you really shouldn't have given up custody back then." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing a hint of pity: "You know, Arthur doesn't like this child." "He's stubborn and hard-headed, not likable at all, and refuses to call me 'Mom'." "Oh right, you've experienced it too, haven't you? Anyone who goes against the protagonist never has a good ending." She smiled sweetly. That airy sentence instantly pulled me back to that freezing winter six years ago. But this time, I didn't back down. "He has a mother; he doesn't need a second one." "As for what you said about not having a good ending—" I took a step closer to her, stared into her eyes, and fired back: "Since you know clearly what happened back then, you should also know very well that I have nothing now. I have nothing left to lose." "All those things you mentioned, you can go ahead and try." I smiled and said: "Anyway, a rotten life is still a life. When that day really comes, before I go, I'll be sure to take you with me." Mia unconsciously took a step back, seemingly not expecting the broken and desperate person from six years ago to fight back now. She bit her lip and didn't speak. Ignoring her, I went ahead and pressed the doorbell. Not long after, the door was pushed open outward. A face looking sickly and languid appeared behind the door. Arthur didn't seem to expect me to be here, and instinctively asked: "Why are you—" The next instant, his eyes turned cold, and he said almost indifferently: "Get out." Because of Mia's appearance, is everything from six years ago going to happen all over again? I pulled my lips into a self-deprecating smile: "Don't worry, I'll leave as soon as I get Arthur Jr." But as if he couldn't bear it anymore, he suddenly grabbed my wrist. Then, without a word, he yanked me into the house. He blocked half his body in front of me, and with a cold face, slammed the door shut with a bang. Right before the door closed, I watched as Mia's freshly forming smile instantly stiffened. I looked up at Arthur blankly. ...Ah. Did he grab the wrong person?
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "394676", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel