Chapter 12: My Son Nearly Made Me Burst a Blood Vessel

Wen Xuxu had no idea her son had just pulled off a world-shaking stunt online.

The moment she got home, she was already busy scrambling to get the two kids out of town.
She couldn’t go back—not even if she wanted to. She *did* feel guilty toward those she’d wronged. But going back? That was impossible.

If she stepped foot in that house again, those two children would never be hers anymore. The Huo family—whether it was that bastard husband or the old man himself—would never allow their bloodline to be scattered like this.

And Wen Xuxu? These kids were her life. Her everything.

She packed up their bags in a rush, tossed them into the car, then went inside to call the kids.

“Ruoruo, what are you doing? Where’s your brother?”

“He’s in the study, Mommy! Are we going on another trip? Where are we going this time?”

Ruoruo was still so innocent. Seeing her mom dragging the suitcases down again, she dropped her doll instantly and wiggled off the couch with her little butt sticking up in the air.

Wen Xuxu waved a hand absently. “Yeah, yeah. Go get your brother. We’re leaving right now.”

“Yay! I’ll go get him!”

Ruoruo bounced off like a spring-loaded toy, racing toward the study.

Meanwhile, Mo Bao was still glued to his tablet, watching the internet like a hawk—waiting for the big bad guy to finally be exposed.

And then… it happened.

Someone *had* blown it wide open. A post claimed the man who’d choked her mom in the principal’s office was none other than the CEO of a multinational conglomerate—Huo Sijue.

Huo Sijue?

Mo Bao tapped the photo that had been posted online.

“Whoa, Brother… why does this guy look *so* much like you? Is he also Mommy’s kid?”

Just then, Ruoruo popped in, eyes wide as saucers when she saw the photo. It was uncanny—identical features, same sharp jawline, same intense stare. She clapped her tiny hands over her mouth, whispering, “Eeeeeek!”

Mo Bao froze.

This guy really *did* look like him—eyes, nose, even the way his brows arched. But how could he possibly be Mommy’s child? He wasn’t a baby. He looked older than Mommy herself. So who *was* this guy?

And then there was Huo Yin—the one who’d shown up earlier. He looked just as similar. And if this man was Huo Yin’s father… then what did that make him to Mo Bao and Ruoruo?

A storm of confusion swirled in the little boy’s head.

“Mo Mo, Ruoruo—come on, we’re leaving! Hurry up!”

Wen Xuxu stood outside, tapping her foot impatiently. When she saw the two still hadn’t come out, she called again, voice tight with stress.

Mo Bao snapped out of it and led Ruoruo out by the hand.

“Where are we going, Mommy?”

“Well… how about staying with Aunt Karina for a couple of days? She called. The grapes in her vineyard are ripe. We’re going to pick them and eat them fresh.”

Wen Xuxu smiled, trying to sound cheerful, hiding the tremble in her voice.

Ruoruo was too sweet to notice. But Mo Bao? Sharp-eyed, street-smart for his age—he knew something was off. He didn’t press her. Just nodded quietly, grabbed his iPad, and followed along.

“Don’t worry, Mommy. We’ll have the best time ever these next two days.”

“Of course we will,” she said, forcing a smile.

She started the car, exhaled deeply—finally, the weight lifted from her chest. Then she stomped on the gas. The car shot forward like a wild stallion, tearing down the highway toward the countryside.

What she didn’t know was that behind her, in the back seat, Mo Bao—sitting calmly in the passenger child seat—had already opened an app on his iPad. With practiced ease, he activated signal jamming across the entire vehicle. No GPS. No Wi-Fi. No tracking. Not a single trace left behind.

*Perfect.*
*Too perfect.*

…

By the time Huo Sijue woke up and returned to the hotel, the online firestorm had mostly died down.

But the person who’d slipped away with Wen Xuxu—leaving only a note behind—remained untraceable. They’d searched every corner of the building. Cameras had been mysteriously disabled at critical moments. No fingerprints. No faces. Nothing.

Huo Sijue’s head throbbed again—like someone was driving nails into his temples.

“Useless idiots! What the hell am I paying you for?!”

“Yes, yes, sir! It’s my fault—I didn’t keep close enough watch. Please don’t be angry. I’ll lead another search right now. Even if I have to tear this whole city apart, I *will* find them.”

Xiao Lin flinched at the rage, terrified the man might collapse from stress. He didn’t care about being yelled at anymore—just needed to calm him down.

But this wasn’t panic. This was calculated. Whoever had taken Wen Xuxu had dared to break into *his* hotel, leave a taunting note, and vanish without a trace. That meant they weren’t just bold—they were prepared.

Huo Sijue pressed his fingers to his temples, feeling the headache return like a tide.

“Where’s Huo Yin?”

“In his room resting. Honestly, that little brat actually helped—fought through the network crash in under five seconds. That bought us the time we needed to scrub the videos and spin the news.”

“…”

*Useless.*
*All of them.*