"Are you wondering why you couldn't bring yourself to feel close to him?"
Qian Ye saw straight through her.
Ah Yin's face turned pale, and she nodded.
"Yes."
"Clearly, he is my child, but I—I can't feel that heart-stirring bond of blood between us."
"Sometimes, I even feel like he's acting."
A mocking smile curled at Qian Ye's lips.
"Your instincts are right."
"He is acting."
"Or rather, he has been acting his entire life."
Ah Yin trembled all over.
"What—what do you mean?"
Qian Ye turned around and looked directly into Ah Yin's eyes.
"Did you really think that the one called Tang San was the baby you gave birth to before you sacrificed yourself?"
Boom!
The words struck like a thunderbolt from a clear sky.
Ah Yin's mind went blank.
"No—isn't he?"
"Then where is my child?"
"Where did my child go?"
Qian Ye's voice remained calm, yet every word pierced her heart.
"Dead."
"After your sacrifice, that infant's soul was already extremely fragile due to the loss of its origin."
"Then, a lone wandering soul from another world took advantage of the opening."
"Possession."
"What you call returning a soul to a borrowed corpse."
"The Tang San you see now is nothing more than a thirty-something old monster wearing your son's body."
Ah Yin completely broke down.
Her mouth fell open as she tried to scream, but only a wheezing bellows-like rasp came from her throat.
Tears poured forth like a burst dam.
Possession!
It had actually been possession!
No wonder.
No wonder that child had been frighteningly mature from such a young age.
No wonder he had known so much about hidden weapons, poisons, and even possessed such strange cultivation techniques at such a young age.
So that was it!
So that was it!
"Tang Hao—"