Chapter 78

The vase lay shattered on the floor, fragments of ceramic scattered like a broken dream, and the small rental apartment fell into an oppressive silence.

Xiao Meihua stared blankly at the jagged pieces, her heart numb, unresponsive to the chaos around her. This vase had taken her considerable effort to bring back from Hong Kong Island, intended for her new home’s living room.

But the new home was still a work in progress, and now the vase was in ruins.

Earlier, her husband had seen her dozing on the couch and suggested she sleep in the bedroom. Frustration had boiled within her, and when she pushed his hand away, her arm swung too wide, knocking the vase off the side table.

Days of torment had driven her to despair over this marriage. She didn’t want to see him or speak to him.

What if he had answered her call three years ago when she went into labor? What if he had arrived at the hospital in time? Perhaps their child wouldn’t have been switched at birth.

It had been three long months since she learned of the mix-up, and still, there was no news about her biological child.

The hospital in Hong Kong, affiliated with the Yu family—one of the prominent families there—had been dragging its feet with excuses and legal procedures. Yet, hope felt increasingly distant.

As an ordinary person, what chance did she have against the Yu family?

The child she had nurtured for three years wasn’t hers. The hospital claimed it was likely a mix-up at their facility, but there was also the possibility that the child had been switched after discharge.

It felt like a preposterous accusation. How could there have been a mistake after discharge?

During her maternity leave, she had never left her child’s side. Even after returning to work, though she employed a nanny, her baby was already several months old; she wouldn’t be so foolish as to miss a swap right before her eyes.

She had exhausted every possible avenue to find her daughter but still remained lost.

What she wouldn’t give to know where her child was and whether she was well.

“Mama,” a soft, timid voice broke through her thoughts.

Xiao Meihua opened her eyes to find Xu Zhiyi holding out a handful of animal-shaped cookies.

At this moment, she felt irritated by anyone’s presence: “Can’t you see the broken vase all over the floor? Go sit over there!”

“Oh.”

Xu Zhiyi recoiled her small hand, carefully avoiding the sharp ceramic pieces, and obediently returned to the sofa.

Shang Tongxu emerged from the bathroom with a broom and dustpan, addressing his wife in a calm tone, “You can vent your frustrations at me, but don’t take it out on our child. She’s just over three years old; she doesn’t understand.”

Xiao Meihua felt both anger and injustice boiling within her: “What have I shouted? Do you know what I’ve been through these past months? I’m not even her mother! Is it too much to ask for me to feel upset about this?”

Taking a deep breath, Shang Tongxu could feel her pain as well. He turned to their daughter, “Zhiyi, why don’t you go play with your toys in your room for a while? Daddy…”

“Could you sweep and mop the living room floor, then come out once it’s clean?”

Xu Zhiyi quickly nodded, swallowing the last bite of her cookie. “Okay.”

She hugged the cookie box with one arm, clutching her stuffed toy under her other arm. After taking a few steps, she glanced back at Xiao Meihua, who was still fixated on her father, not even acknowledging her presence.

They rented a two-bedroom apartment, with both bedrooms side by side.

Xu Zhiyi returned to the second bedroom and shut the door behind her.

Shang Tongxu turned to his wife, his voice laced with desperation. “Can you please not say in front of our child that you’re not her mother? It’s not the kid’s fault she got switched.”

Xiao Meihua remained silent.

Every time she voiced her regret, she felt a wave of remorse wash over her, yet she couldn’t help herself. Each time Zhiyi called out “Mommy,” she was reminded of her own daughter, a constant source of conflict and pain. “Shang Tongxu, I can’t be as rational as you are. I’m not noble enough to raise someone else’s child.”

Her phone rang, and she glanced at the caller ID. It was the project manager from the renovation company, but she felt too drained to answer.

“You take it,” she said, squinting her eyes and sinking deeper into the sofa.

Earlier this year, they bought a spacious apartment, but she was dissatisfied with the previous renovations. The style didn’t reflect her taste, so they hired a renovation company to redo it.

The work was nearing completion, and all the furniture had been selected and the deposits paid. They planned to let it air out for half a year before moving in.

Her husband had successfully secured a position at a top-tier university, and her own career was thriving as well. Unlike a few years ago on Hong Kong Island, where they had no one to rely on but each other, they were now closer to her parents and brother, who were helping take care of the child.

It was a level of comfort and ease she had never experienced before.

Yet, just three months ago, they discovered that Zhiyi’s blood type didn’t match either of theirs. After a paternity test, it was confirmed: she wasn’t their child.

It was like a bolt from the blue.

In her frantic search for her biological daughter, she had used every connection available to her, but it felt like a drop in the bucket.

She even sought help from Qi Zhengchen’s parents, but the Qi family’s connections didn’t extend to Hong Kong Island, with virtually no ties to the Yu family, leaving their assistance limited.

She felt utterly lost.

After finishing his call with the project manager, Shang Tongxu turned to his wife. “We can do the final inspection the day after tomorrow.”

Xiao Meihua didn’t respond; she had lost interest in everything.

Shang Tongxu cleaned up the ceramic shards from the floor, vacuumed the area, and mopped it again.

Once everything was tidy, he sat down next to his wife, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”

He hadn’t anticipated the complications with her pregnancy and the premature birth. That night had been particularly unfortunate; a project issue had arisen, and his phone wasn’t on him, so he hadn’t received her call.

When he arrived at the hospital, his daughter had already been born, with only his mother-in-law by his wife’s side.

If only he had been there.

After soothing his wife, Shang Tongxu made his way to his daughter’s room. He pushed the door open to find her perched on the edge of her crib, staring blankly into space, a cookie in hand.

Over the past few months, it was clear she had become more withdrawn, her every action cautious.

At just three years and three months old, although she didn’t understand what it meant to be switched at birth or what a paternity test was, she could definitely sense that the atmosphere in the home had shifted dramatically.

His wife and he were arguing almost daily, and his patience was wearing thin.

Children are sensitive; they can perceive the coldness of adults, even when it’s unspoken.

“Zhiyi.”

Xu Zhiyi turned around sharply. “Daddy!”

She dashed toward him, and he scooped her up in his arms, asking gently, “Why are you still eating? Didn’t you finish your dinner?”

Holding the cookie box tightly, she blinked her long lashes. “I’m full.”

Realizing she might have misspoken but unsure where she had gone wrong, she stared at him, her voice careful. “Daddy, you won’t abandon me, will you?”

“Of course not. How could Daddy ever not want you?” Shang Tongxu’s voice cracked, and he pressed his daughter’s head against his chest, tears streaming down his face.

He was heartbroken over not being able to find his own child, and equally devastated that Zhiyi, so small, had to face such harsh realities.

Not long ago, his wife had been on the brink of collapse in her fruitless search for their daughter and had exchanged harsh words with her parents.

His mother-in-law had said, “The child isn’t an object you can just discard. If you don’t want her, I’ll raise her. With my and your father’s retirement income, we can manage to care for her.”

At the time, his wife had only been speaking out of anger. After three years of caring for Zhiyi, how could she not have developed feelings for her?

But the words, once spoken, had already caused harm to the child.

After a moment of composure, Shang Tongxu turned to Zhiyi. “How about we wash up and get ready for bed?”

Zhiyi nodded obediently. “Okay.”

She wriggled out of his arms. “Daddy, I can wash myself.”

Reluctantly, Shang Tongxu let her down. In just a few short months, his daughter had become fully capable of washing her own face, brushing her teeth, and even bathing her feet, carefully fetching water in her little basin.

She remembered exactly what each basin was for.

In her little mind, she believed that if she behaved well, the adults would like her.

Their rental apartment had a shabby bathroom with no temperature control; she had to mix hot and cold water herself, and she could get the temperature just right.

After washing up, Xu Zhiyi climbed up onto her bed, her small world still full of hope despite the storm brewing outside.

“Goodnight, Daddy,” Xu Zhiyi whispered from her small bed.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” Shang Tongxu leaned down to kiss her forehead gently.

Xu Zhiyi tightly shut her eyes, her lashes fluttering occasionally.

He dimmed the bedside lamp to its lowest setting. Each night, he waited until his daughter was completely asleep before sneaking back in to tuck her in and turn off the light.

Before the discovery that their daughter had been switched, Zhiyi had always slept with them.

At such a young age, she often kicked off her covers during the night, and Xiao Meihua couldn’t bear to make her sleep alone.

But in recent months, as their arguments grew more frequent, his wife lost the will to soothe their daughter to sleep. To protect Zhiyi from overhearing their disputes, he had moved her to the second bedroom.

With the bedroom door closed, Xu Zhiyi opened her eyes, staring at the dim light of the lamp, her fingers nervously tugging at the bedsheet.

For a child her age, the world is small—so small that her parents represented her entire universe. She didn’t even know what it meant to be sad.

Time passed, though she couldn’t tell how long it had been, when the door creaked open.

“Pop!” Startled, Xu Zhiyi quickly squeezed her eyes shut, pretending to be asleep.

Exhausted, Shang Tongxu softly called, “Zhiyi?”

No response came; she remained still.

He gently pulled the covers up and turned off the light as he left the room.

Once he was gone, Xu Zhiyi opened her eyes. It was pitch black; she could see nothing. Panic surged through her, and she squeezed her eyes shut again, clutching the blanket and burrowing under it, covering her head.

Fear gnawed at her, and beads of sweat formed on her forehead as she began to quietly cry.

Her shoulders trembled with each sob.

The more she cried, the less she could sleep.

Gathering her courage, Xu Zhiyi pushed the blanket aside, too scared to open her eyes. She crawled out of bed and felt around for the lamp on the bedside table, finally managing to locate it after what felt like an eternity.

When the light flickered on, she dared to open her eyes.

Climbing down from the bed, she adjusted her little slippers, slipped them on, and opened the door, determined to find her daddy.

The living room was dark, and her parents’ bedroom door was shut tight.

She wandered around the main bedroom door, hesitating several times, her hand brushing against the doorknob before pulling away again. Wiping her tears, she eventually returned to her own room.

On the nightstand lay the cookie box. She opened it, pinching a cookie between her fingers and popping it into her mouth.

Eventually, exhaustion overwhelmed her, her eyelids growing heavier. She cried until she was too tired to continue, finally collapsing onto her pillow and falling asleep.

The next morning, Shang Tongxu pushed open the door and called for his daughter to wake up. He noticed the lamp still lit and the cookie box lying on the bed.

Taking a deep breath, a wave of bittersweet emotion surged up in his throat.

Zhiyi’s kindergarten was already on winter break, but he still had to go to the lab, and his wife had to work overtime on the weekends. During the day, they could only send their daughter to her grandparents’ house.

Now, more than anything, Zhiyi longed for…

Xu Zhiyi was excited to visit her grandparents’ house because she could play with her older brother, Er Ge.

Her in-laws lived in the staff quarters of the research institute. With heavy snow falling and the roads slippery, Shang Tongxu drove carefully until they reached his in-laws’ home.

“Daddy, I’m going to find Er Ge to play,” Zhiyi chirped, her eyes sparkling.

Shang Tongxu wrapped her up warmly and lifted her out of the car. A seven or eight-year-old boy usually lacked the patience to play with a three-year-old, and he was worried about his daughter getting hurt. He smiled and said, “Er Ge is a big kid, and big kids play with big kids. Once I finish my work, I’ll take you to play with your friends from kindergarten, okay?”

Zhiyi insisted, “But Er Ge wants to play with me!”

“Alright, we can play for a bit, but let’s try not to bother him while he’s doing his own thing, okay?”

Zhiyi nodded eagerly. “Okay!”

Carrying his daughter, Shang Tongxu climbed the stairs. Since the old building didn’t have an elevator, it was quite a trek. As soon as he set her down, she eagerly knocked on the door across the hall, not caring if anyone inside could hear. “Er Ge? Are you awake?”

Qi Zhengchen was spending his winter vacation at his grandparents’ house.

His grandpa wouldn’t let him sleep in; he had already pulled him out of bed to practice his calligraphy. By the time Zhiyi arrived, he had completed three sheets.

Now that his little sister was here, he finally had an excuse to take a break from his writing practice.

After dropping off Zhiyi’s small bag at his in-laws’ house, Shang Tongxu went to check on his mother-in-law, who had been unwell due to the stress of finding the missing child.

The elderly lady was worried about Zhiyi but couldn’t stop thinking about the child they hadn’t found yet.

“Is there any news from the hospital?” she asked, a question she posed every day.

“Not yet,” Shang Tongxu replied.

It seemed unlikely they would receive good news anytime soon. The hospital had already claimed that some newborn files had been accidentally lost, and they wouldn’t admit to finding them without losing face.

“Zhiyi is over at Uncle Jin’s place,” he added.

His mother-in-law sighed, “Thank goodness Zhiyi gets to play with Zhengchen every day this winter break. It’s a relief to have him around.” Their family was so focused on finding the child that they barely had the energy for anything else.

Shang Tongxu gathered some fruit and snacks to bring next door. After smoking a cigarette downstairs, he finally drove away.

As noon approached, the snowfall began to ease.

Qi Zhengchen took Zhiyi downstairs to build a snowman and turned to remind her, “Make sure to keep your gloves on. Don’t take them off!”

“Oh!” She responded obediently.

Zhiyi was in charge of finding dry twigs for the snowman. When she looked up, she spotted Qi Zhengchen’s mother approaching. “Hello, Auntie!”

“Hello there!” Jin Xin smiled, bending down to pinch Zhiyi’s chubby cheeks.

Today, Zhiyi wore a white down jacket, its hood framing her small face as she beamed up at the woman.

Zhiyi put on her gloves, looking as cute as a little snowball. However, she had lost her cheerful smile; she used to greet everyone with a big grin that showcased her tiny white teeth.

Such a beautiful little girl—where could her real parents be?

Jin Xin couldn’t help but sigh inwardly at the thought.

“Go play with your brother!” she encouraged.

“Okay!” Zhiyi replied, eagerly continuing her search for twigs.

Meanwhile, Qi Zhengchen had managed to build two small snowmen. They weren’t exactly masterpieces, but he had given it his best effort.

“Zhiyi, hand me the twigs!” He turned around, reaching out, when he noticed someone lying in the snow. He froze for a few seconds. “Zhiyi, what are you doing?!”

He quickly got up and pulled her little body up from the ground.

Zhiyi didn’t want to get up, but she had no choice—her older brother was too strong.

With her head down, she stayed silent, rubbing her eyes.

“Why are you crying again?” Qi Zhengchen asked as he brushed the snow off her clothes.

Zhiyi didn’t reply, only continued rubbing her eyes until they were red and puffy.

Taking her hand, Qi Zhengchen said, “I’ll take you to find my mom.”

As soon as they stepped inside, he called out for her.

“Mom, come here!”

Jin Xin was in the kitchen helping her mother with dinner when she heard him call. She rushed out, concern written all over her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh dear, why is Zhiyi crying?”

“Mom, can we let her stay with us for a bit?” Qi Zhengchen pleaded.

Jin Xin quickly fetched a damp towel to wipe Zhiyi’s face. The adults in the house were stressed and struggling, so it was no surprise that the kids were affected too.

Turning to her mother, she said, “I’ll take Zhiyi to Jiang Yueru’s place after dinner. I’ve been thinking, she might be the only one who can help.”

If it weren’t absolutely necessary, she wouldn’t involve Jiang Yueru. After all, things had turned sour between them and Lu Jianbo, and no one wanted to rekindle ties with an ex-family.

But right now, it was about a child’s future.

Her mother sighed. “You might as well give it a try. It’s not easy for any of the children, including your Uncle Xiao’s family.” While she refrained from commenting on Xiaomei’s attitude toward the child, she couldn’t help but feel sympathy for such a small kid.

“Isn’t Jiang Yueru the one who changed her son’s surname to her own after having a fallout with her ex?”

“Yes, but she still has connections with the child’s grandfather,” Jin Xin explained.

Maybe if she reached out, there could still be hope.