Xie Yufan half-carried the despondent Fang Zhiyuan as they stumbled through the front door, startling a still-furious Yan Xuemei. Her son—normally composed, capable, and someone she had always held in such high regard—now appeared utterly shattered, his face ashen, eyes hollow, and exuding a sense of utter hopelessness. The sight sent a shiver of fear down her spine, and she immediately turned to Xie Yufan, demanding to know what had happened.
What could he say? Xie Yufan glanced helplessly at Fang Zhiyuan's blank stare and simply shook his head in resignation.
Fang Zhiyuan brushed Xie Yufan's hand away and struggled to stand upright. He staggered towards Yan Xuemei, his eyes filled with contempt—a look that made her pulse race with fear.
"Do you enjoy it when I call you 'Mother'?"
Yan Xuemei blinked, bewildered. She couldn't grasp what he was getting at and could only respond nervously.
"Of… of course."
"What about 'Grandma'?"
"Grandma?" Yan Xuemei stood rooted to the spot, a sinking feeling growing in her chest.
"Do you know? You and I… we robbed Yi of the chance to be a mother. My mother!" he snarled, his words dripping with venom.
Yan Xuemei's face turned pale, as if an invisible hand had gripped her heart, each breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. Fang Zhiyuan's words cut through her like a knife, sharp and unrelenting. She instinctively stepped back, her voice trembling.
"Zhiyuan… what are you talking about?"
He let out a bitter, mirthless laugh, dripping with contempt.
"The irony is, we've already wiped it all from our minds."
Yan Xuemei felt as if the ground had given way beneath her. She had long regretted the choices of the past, especially in recent years whenever she saw children the same age as what would have been her grandchild. She often imagined a lively little one running around, calling out, 'Granny, Granny.' It wasn't that she'd forgotten—she was simply too afraid to face the memory.
But… she'd been with Cheng Yi on the day of the operation. She'd watched her enter the operating theatre before hurrying off to catch her flight. But now… God, could it be…?
"Zhiyuan… Yi… the child… is the child still…" Yan Xuemei's voice cracked, trembling with the faintest sliver of hope.
Tears finally spilled from Fang Zhiyuan's eyes as his voice erupted in a thunderous roar, shattering the last fragile thread of her hope.
"Stop dreaming!"
Yan Xuemei collapsed onto the floor, her body shaking as tears poured down her cheeks. The long-suppressed guilt and regret surged up, washing over her like an unstoppable tide. Fang Zhiyuan turned and stumbled back to his room, the door slamming shut with a thunderous bang that shattered the silence of the night.
Inside his room, Fang Zhiyuan slumped against the door, his hands covering his face as silent tears slipped down his cheeks.
How laughable he was! He'd had the gall to paint himself as the victim, clinging to some self-righteous moral high ground, demanding to know why Cheng Yi had disappeared, why she had shut him out. Not once did he stop to consider his own part in it all. In the end, it was he who had been the true culprit all along. Every bitter consequence was a seed he had sown himself; every wound, a result of his own making. He was the one truly at fault.
What right did he have to question his mother's choices? He'd chosen silence, silently condoning everything without so much as a word of defiance.
Such cowardice was a sin in itself.
And his punishment? A lifetime of regret—a burden he'd bear for the rest of his life.