Chapter 38: Her Heart Slightly Soft 38

Yi Ruan scooped him up, sat him on her lap, and, surprised, said, "Why did you come?"

Mo Yan planted a kiss on her cheek, his jade arms opening, and said uncle, "Uncle, take me, um, go, go to grandpa's place."

Mo Yan's name was given by Mo Qu. He said Yi Ruan's fate was too thin, but her bones too hard, making it easy to clash with those around her, so he named the little thing Mo Yan to fool the heavens, but he didn't expect that he really was inarticulate.

And she heard that a humble name is easy to raise; little Mo Yan was frail from birth, so she gave him the infant nickname Fan Tuan.

She smiled warmly, pinched Fan Tuan's pink little face, and asked, "How long does Uncle say we should go?"

Fan Tuan stretched out his fingers, both tiny hands reaching, shook his little head, "Fan Tuan, you fool."

At that moment, Mo Ci walked in, looking at the mother and child, and laughed, "What, you don't want to go back with Uncle?"

Fan Tuan clung tightly to Yi Ruan, "Mom, I'm staying, not leaving."

His speech was halting, always brief and shocking.

Mo Ci, seeing this, covered his chest, a worried face, "Fan Tuan, Fan Tuan, you're really a treacherous brat. Have you forgotten the days when Uncle fed you with their own excrement and urine?"

Little Fan Tuan said nothing.

Yi Ruan held her obedient son, her beautiful eyes glared at Mo Ci, who straightened up and said, "Mo Zhi is in your office; you're about to return to the country. He said he has a few words to tell you."

Fan Tuan rubbed his eyes, a vague expression, "Mom, I'm sleepy."

Yi Ruan gave Mo Zhi a helpless smile; this son is so clever and sensible.

Mo Ci let out a chuckle, spread his arms, and said, "Come, Uncle will take you to sleep."

In the office

"This time you go back, you must protect yourself." Mo Zhi was very uneasy about her.

Yi Ruan stood with her back to the glass; behind her was an extraordinarily bustling city, and with a turn she could take in half the city's scenery.

"I will protect myself, not for anything else, but for my son's life." As she said this, a hint of murderous intent flashed in her eyes, her beautiful gaze sharp.

At first, she fled from the Fu family old residence to the Kunlun Mo family; Mo Zhi took her pulse and discovered she was poisoned. While she was pregnant with little Mo Yan, Mo Zhi dared not use medicine, only detoxifying her bit by bit. Because too much time had passed, after Little Mo Yan was born she could finally be treated, yet still could not be cured. Little Mo Yan had been poisoned since birth, frail, and she and Little Mo Yan lived at the foot of Kunlun Mountain for over two years before leaving.

Now Mo Zhi has found a cure, but it requires a single medicinal ingredient as a drug guide: the blood of someone sharing the same bloodline. Yi Ruan could have provided it, but her body is poisoned and cannot serve as the guide, and this body has no blood relation to Mo Zhi, so it must be abandoned.

The only hope lies with Fu Qiwei; for her son, she must act herself.

Over the years, she covertly sent many people to kill Fu Qiwei, but none obtained his blood; many mercenaries were hired, yet Fu Qiwei slew them one by one. The time left for her and Little Mo Yan is running short.

She can only go herself.

"A Ran, sometimes you worry too much," Mo Zhi said before she could answer, softly, "Just act boldly and confidently; if the sky falls, brother will bear it for you."

Yi Ruan gave a soft "Hmm," for if not Mo Zhi and Mo Ci, she probably would have died long ago.

She hesitated a moment, then said, "I want to take Fan Tuan back."

Mo Zhi sighed, pulled a talisman from his chest, "Give this to Fan Tuan; it will protect him from disaster."

He is different from you; his soul is too heavy, his bones too cold…

……

……

In mid‑August, during the Mid‑Autumn Festival, the Fu family patriarch held an 80th birthday banquet at the old Fu residence. The celebration was grand, yet few were invited; only long‑standing aristocratic families associated with the Fu clan could attend, and outsiders could not enter.

Yet she easily obtained an invitation—more precisely, she snatched one.

She knew the connection between the Fu family and Wei Jiangyu, so she cut in at Wei Jiangyu, having someone intercept his invitation midway, and with the invitation in hand, she led Fan Tuan inside smoothly.

Wearing sunglasses and a mask, she was stopped.

"Good afternoon, miss, please place the birthday gifts here," the young attendant said with a smile.

She lowered her head slightly to look at the little doll beside her; Fan Tuan was startled, thinking something was wrong—could mother be putting me among a pile of chaotic birthday gifts?!

Seeing Fan Tuan clutch her tighter, she calmly said, "My coming is the best birthday gift."

The attendant said no more and let her in.

The banquet was lavish, from fireworks to the piano orchestra in Yan Yun Hall, all of top‑tier level, yet she did not see the person she hoped to find.

"Mom, the fireworks are beautiful." He grew up in deep mountains, and only recently had he seen fireworks with her; now tucked in Yi Ruan's arms, he covered his eyes, watching the fireworks through the seam of his hands.

Yi Ruan laughed lightly, "No ambition, already bought."

"Not at all," he cooed, defending himself.

She patted his little head, "When we meet great‑grandfather later, what should we say?"

He giggled, his slightly hoarse baby voice teasing, "All ancestors will be delighted to see Fu Shu'ang."

Fan Tuan rarely could speak so many words; Yi Ruan taught him, twice.

And Fu Shu'ang is a false name she gave him.

Half Moon

A man lay on the bed, the sheets, clothes, and hair all in disarray.

The servant knocked lightly, entered, saw the mess, and with a throat‑choked voice said, "Sir, the banquet is almost over; if you don't appear, it may not be appropriate."

The silver‑haired man stared coldly at her, making the servant's scalp tingle; his thin, cool gaze, thin lips slightly parting, eyes bottomless, "None of your business."

The servant was about to kneel, "Sir, the patriarch will hold the family meeting at 8 o'clock in Kuo Ming Hall; you must attend."

Fu Qiwei impatiently slipped into the quilt.

After the servant left, his legs went weak and he collapsed; the incense in the young master's room was so strong he could barely breathe.

……

……

Kuo Ming Hall

"Qiwei, Miss Jin is gentle, kind, beautiful, dignified, a capable wife and mother who manages the household well," Fu Zhan said, flipping through the documents.

He, with wild silver hair, rested his feet on the conference table, leaning back, a cigarette between his fingers, lazily squinting, half‑smiling, "Since she's a capable wife and mother, why didn't grandpa marry her?"

Fu Zhan, angry, saw his vision darken, his trembling finger pointed at him, "Scoundrel!"

The Fu family's second uncle beside them couldn't help but advise, "Qīwēi, what do you have against this Miss Jin?"

"How could I be dissatisfied? I'm already married; marrying again would be bigamy, wouldn't it?" He laughed mockingly, but his eyes were sharp.

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