Song Qiuya stared blankly at the darkened screen, motionless, as though her soul had been drained from her.
Only her tears moved, slipping silently down her cheeks like beads from a broken string.
She suddenly threw herself into Chen Lin's arms, clutching him with every ounce of strength she had.
As though he were the last piece of driftwood keeping her afloat in a world that was falling apart.
Twenty-seven years of understanding, faith, love, and hatred collapsed in that instant.
The woman she had hated for over a decade was the birth mother who had given her life.
The mother she had loved for more than twenty years had protected her throughout her youth with a well-intentioned lie.
That immense conflict and pain surged like two torrents, threatening to tear her apart.
Chen Lin held her tightly in return, letting her scalding tears soak his chest.
He offered no words of comfort.
He simply stroked her trembling back, over and over.
In the quietest yet most steadfast way, he told her: I'm here. I'll always be here.
Outside the door.
Song Guoan leaned against the wall. This man who commanded the business world now had bloodshot eyes and radiated helplessness.
Ye Qingqing was already sobbing too hard to speak. Her legs gave way, and she slid down the cold wall to the floor.
Listening to her daughter's sobs through the door, she felt as though a knife were twisting in her heart.
Late at night, in the villa's hallway.
The antique clock on the wall ticked away, as though mercilessly timing this family's storm.
Inside the room, Song Qiuya cried herself to exhaustion in Chen Lin's warm, solid embrace, finally falling into a deep, drained sleep amid uncontrollable sobs.
Even in sleep, her brow remained tightly furrowed. Tears