Chu Lingzhi pushed her car to its maximum speed, but she was still too late.
About fifty meters from the school gate, she saw her son being taken into a black Rolls-Royce by a tall man in black.
That man in black was Huo Luan!
Chu Lingzhi’s heart tightened. She slammed on the accelerator, chasing after the car.
Her worst fear had come true.
That bastard Nangong Yehen was finally going to take her son away—
No!
She absolutely couldn’t let Nangong Yehen take her son!
Chu Junyu was everything to her. Without him, she couldn’t go on living!
The car was already at full speed, but the other vehicle wasn’t slow either. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t catch up.
Chu Lingzhi’s eyes reddened with desperation. The thought of being separated from Chu Junyu nearly made her cry.
The car she was chasing drove straight into Nangong Manor.
The manor’s gate, sensing the approaching vehicle, automatically swung open when it was about twenty meters away.
The car drove right in, and the heavy gate immediately closed behind it.
By the time Chu Lingzhi reached the gate, it was already locked.
She scrambled out of the car, rushed forward, and pounded on the gate frantically.
“Open up! Open this door!”
“Nangong Yehen, get out here! You dogs of Nangong Yehen, open the door!”
“Bastard, what right do you have to take my son!”
…
Chu Lingzhi screamed and cursed, kicking and slamming the gate, but the people inside completely ignored her.
She refused to give up, hurling the foulest insults, calling Nangong Yehen worse than a dog.
Only when she was exhausted and her throat was dry did she slump to the ground.
She pulled out her phone and dialed Chu Junyu’s number.
It rang, but no one answered.
That bastard Nangong Yehen must have forbidden her son from picking up.
Chu Lingzhi turned her head and glared at the solid gate. She refused to believe that the people inside would never come out.
She would sit here and wait, until they finally emerged!
Inside the manor, in the villa where Nangong Yehen lived.
In the lavish, spacious living room, on the soft, genuine leather sofa.
Nangong Yehen, dressed entirely in black—black shirt, black pants, and a black trench coat—sat with his long, muscular legs crossed in a relaxed posture.
His face was cold and sinister, his gaze sharp. He looked like an ice god, sitting there, staring coldly at the elegant, handsome little boy on the opposite sofa.
Facing Nangong Yehen’s icy demeanor, Chu Junyu showed no fear at all.
His schoolbag sat beside him, his small arm resting on top.
He met Nangong Yehen’s gaze with calm, composed eyes. His delicate, handsome face had lost its usual innocence, replaced by a hint of arrogance.
They stared each other down, neither speaking first. The atmosphere was… strange.
A servant brought over the freshly brewed tea, holding her breath as she set it on the coffee table. She didn’t dare break the eerie silence and quickly retreated after placing it down.
Huo Luan, standing behind Nangong Yehen, watched Chu Junyu without blinking.
He could feel a powerful pressure emanating from the boy.
At such a young age, with such extraordinary presence, he would surely become a great figure when he grew up.
“What are you going to do next?” Chu Junyu’s childish voice carried a hint of coldness, breaking the strange silence.
Nangong Yehen seemed not to understand his words, answering with a question instead: “Do what?”
Chu Junyu raised an eyebrow slightly, staring straight into Nangong Yehen’s eyes. “You’re not stupid. You know what I mean.”
Nangong Yehen curled his lips. “I’m your father.”