Chapter 33: She Bumped Into Him

Huo Sijue’s face was as pale and icy as a winter storm, his mood visibly freezing over in real time.

“Who the hell told you to come back here?” he snapped. “Wen Xuxu, your nerve is getting bolder by the day.”

“No, no, no—Mr. Huo,” she said with a cheerful shrug, “it’s not that I’ve grown bolder. It’s just that I’m doing my job. Look at you—after I gave you those acupuncture needles last night, you slept like a baby, right? But let me tell you, two needles aren’t enough. You need proper调理—see, I even brought the herbs myself.”

She waved the small herbal bundle under his nose like a victory flag.

Huo Sijue’s expression darkened instantly.

“Not needed.”

“What? Why not?” Wen Xuxu shot back, hands on her hips. “You’re the patient, I’m the doctor. You have to listen to me!”

She didn’t give him a chance to protest. Grabbing his wrist, she yanked it toward the front door and began feeling his pulse right there, in full view of the mansion’s grand entrance.

His temple throbbed with a vein pulsing like a trapped bird. For one split second, he nearly flung her off like a piece of trash. But then he looked down—and froze.

There she was, calm now, her eyes—deep, clear, like still mountain lakes—glistening softly in the golden morning light. Her focus was absolute, the quiet intensity of a healer diagnosing a patient. He stayed put.

That was the look only a true doctor gave a patient.

“Hmm… pretty much what I expected,” she murmured. “Still severely blocked. Don’t worry. If you take this prescription for a full week, you’ll feel a world better.”

She released his hand and delivered her verdict with all the seriousness of a surgeon announcing a prognosis.

Huo Sijue’s expression remained stone-cold. He pulled his arm back without a word, then swept a cold glance over the bundle of herbs in her hands.

“You can just hand them to the staff.”

“Wait—what?” Wen Xuxu blinked, stunned. “No way! I have to prepare the decoction myself. I don’t trust them to do it right.”

“The herbs will be ruined? Are you serious? Do you really think I’ve been running this household for fifteen years with a bunch of incompetent servants? Wen Xuxu, are you seriously treating me like a toddler? Do you think I don’t see through your little game?”

Silence.

Her face drained of color in an instant.

She knew it. She’d never fooled him. He was too sharp—no matter how cleverly she played her cards, he always saw through her.

“Yes,” she admitted quietly, voice trembling slightly. “I *do* want to see my son. Is that so wrong? I’m his mother. Isn’t it natural to want to see him? Even the law says divorced parents can visit their children. Why can’t I? And besides—I’m genuinely helping you heal. Just let me do this. Please.”

She lifted her head again, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Her delicate face, pale and soft as porcelain, wore nothing but sorrow and longing.

Huo Sijue froze.

For a heartbeat, the memory flashed—her slashing herself with glass on that boat, screaming at him to save their son.
Yes, she had flaws. Countless ones.
But she loved their child. That was undeniable.

He said nothing. Turned. Walked away.

From behind a cluster of trees nearby, a small figure watched silently. As Huo Sijue passed, the kid gave Wen Xuxu a quick, approving thumbs-up.

*Good job, Mrs. Huo.*

——And so, Wen Xuxu was allowed to stay.

Overwhelmed with emotion, she rushed to the kitchen, set up her herbs, and prepared the decoction with trembling hands. Then, heart pounding, she headed upstairs to find her son.

“Yin Yin? Yin Yin?”

“Shut up! The young master hasn’t even woken up yet. The master only asked you to stay to brew medicine—not to disturb him!”

The same snippy maid from before appeared, arms crossed, glaring at her like she’d committed a crime.

Wen Xuxu ignored her.

She had permission. She could walk into her son’s life now—legally, openly. Did she really need to pay attention to this buzzing fly?

She checked the room. No movement. No sound.

So she went to the kitchen, made a beautiful breakfast for a child—mashed potatoes pancakes, shrimp wontons, sunny-side-up eggs with tomato sauce—and carried it upstairs. Guided by memory from the night before, she found the right door.

*Knock knock knock.*

“Yin Yin? It’s Aunt Nanxi. Are you awake? I made something special—potato pancakes, shrimp dumplings, and sunny-side-up eggs with tomato sauce. Do you like them?”

She spoke softly, gently tapping the door.

But silence answered.

She called again. And again.

Still nothing.

What was going on? Was he still asleep?

She reached for the doorknob.

Then—out of nowhere—a tiny figure stepped out from the hallway to her right.

“Who are you? What are you doing here? Who let you come up?”