Chapter 24: Imprisoned

Xiao Lin got the call in the afternoon at the hospital—someone had escaped from the apartment where they’d been locked up.

She ran again?

The moment he heard it, his forehead twitched sharply.

But then, to his surprise, an unfamiliar number rang through.

“Hello?”

“Lin Assistant, it’s Wen Xuxu. Sorry about this—I just really wanted to see my aunt and uncle, so I slipped out. Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon after.”

It was Wen Xuxu. She’d actually called him personally to explain.

Xiao Lin couldn’t quite process his emotions. He glanced at the man lying unconscious in the hospital bed—the boss, still not awake—and muttered into the phone, “You better get back fast. Don’t let the CEO find out.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Don’t worry,” she said, her tone instantly lighter now that he wasn’t arguing. She hung up with a cheerful click.

Xiao Lin stared at the dead screen of his phone—headache building, frustration mounting.

He should’ve been flattered, really. That she remembered his number after five years. Most people wouldn’t even remember the name of someone from the Huo family. Not even the current patient in front of him.

So he knew—this was only the beginning of trouble.

Just as he turned to step back into the ward, the doctor arrived.

“Mr. Lin, the CT scan and lab results are in. Fortunately, there’s no sign of blood vessel rupture in his head. But we still need to take this seriously. Just because it didn’t happen this time doesn’t mean it won’t the next. With his condition, a cerebral hemorrhage is very possible.”

“What? So what do we do? Is there really no other option?”

Xiao Lin’s voice cracked with panic.

The doctor shook his head. “You know his situation. We’ve consulted every top specialist in China—nothing worked. You even flew overseas for treatment. I was going to ask—why did you come back so quickly? And now, right after returning, he collapsed and was rushed in here? What happened? Wasn’t the famous traditional Chinese medicine doctor you found at Clear Hospital supposed to help?”

The question hit Xiao Lin like a slap.

Not that she *didn’t* work—she hadn’t even been tried. Who could’ve guessed the so-called “famous” TCM doctor was actually the woman who’d supposedly died five years ago—his former boss’s wife?

“Western medicine failed. How could acupuncture possibly help? Are you overestimating this too much?”

“No, no, you don’t understand traditional Chinese medicine,” the doctor said firmly. “It’s been practiced in our country for thousands of years. It’s not inferior to Western medicine. And acupuncture? It’s incredibly powerful. By stimulating specific acupoints, it can regulate the body’s internal balance—sometimes more effectively than surgery.”

His eyes lit up when he mentioned acupuncture, a rare expression of reverence on his face.

Xiao Lin looked at the silent figure in the bed—still trapped in unconsciousness—and fell into silence.

Maybe… just maybe… it was worth letting the ex-wife try?

—

That same afternoon, Wen Xuxu returned home with her son.

As expected, she was met with a furious tirade from her grumpy uncle the moment she walked in. He berated her without mercy, nearly making her shrink into herself.

For five years, she’d told them she wasn’t dead—just gone abroad with her two children. But she’d never come back. No visit. No letter. Nothing.

So yes, she deserved the scolding.

“Wen Xuxu! Look at you—what a big shot! What’s the point of coming back? If you’re so strong, stay gone forever!”

“But… but this is my home. How could I not come back?”

“Bullshit! You’re a Wen—not a Du! This isn’t your home, goddamn it!”

Her uncle stormed around like a caged bull.

Upstairs, Ruoruo clutched her brother tightly, eyes wide with fear.

“Why is Grandpa yelling at Mama? Why is he so angry? Does he hate Mama?”

Her lower lip trembled, on the verge of tears.

Mobo, ever the little peacemaker, patted her back gently.

“It’s okay, Ruoruo. Mama’s just being disobedient. That’s why Grandpa’s mad. Just like when we don’t listen to Mama, she gets mad at us too.”

The kid had a surprisingly clear mind.

Ruoruo blinked her big, dark eyes—like glossy grapes—and slowly stopped crying.

After a while, her aunt finally stepped in, unable to bear the shouting anymore.

“That’s enough. You’ve yelled at her long enough. She can’t undo what she’s done. Save your breath. We don’t have money to buy tea for all that ranting.”

Silence.

Her uncle shut up.

Wen Xuxu stood frozen, heart aching, guilt swelling inside her. Tears welled up, but she held them back.

“Uncle… Aunt…”

“You don’t need to say anything. Tell me—what’s your plan? Are you really going to see that old man?”

Compared to her uncle’s rage, her aunt was calm—but cold. Her voice carried no warmth, no affection. Her face was blank, distant—as if she were speaking to a stranger.

Wen Xuxu lowered her gaze.

“I don’t want to go. If I do, he might find out I’m alive. Then he’ll restore my household registration. I’d still be under his control.”

“Not entirely stupid. But if he forces you, you won’t have a choice.”

“So I need to figure something out. And Aunt… I can’t keep living here with Mobo and Ruoruo. I’m afraid they’ll trace us. If they come looking… what if they take them?”

“Do whatever you want.”