Chapter 42: Nothing Is More Heartbreaking Than the Death of Hope

“No way! I’m not teaching you anything. I’ll weave my son’s clothes myself—I don’t need to teach *you* how!”

Wen Xuxu was instantly incensed. A wave of white-hot fury surged through her chest, and without even thinking, she shot back with a sharp, cutting refusal.

That was just how she was—fine with everything else, but when it came to her child, she lost control completely.

The moment the words left her mouth, the entire dining room fell into stunned silence. Everyone’s expressions turned icy, especially Huo Sijue’s—he looked like he’d been slapped.

“Honestly, Miss Gu, all she asked was for help learning how to knit gloves. Why did you have to snap at her like that? Our little master isn’t your responsibility. Who gave you the right to act so superior? Have you forgotten your place?”

Chen Ma, the housekeeper, spoke first. Her tone was polite on the surface, but every syllable dripped with sarcasm—like daggers wrapped in silk.

Wen Xuxu’s fingers tightened around her baby, knuckles turning white.

“Chen Ma, what are you even saying? This isn’t your business. If Wen Miss wants to make something for little Yinxin, that’s her choice. Who gave *you* the authority to speak against her? Do you even understand basic manners?”

No one expected it—but right after Chen Ma’s comment, Gu Xia suddenly snapped back at her.

Kneeling on the floor, clutching Huo Sijue’s leg, her delicate face still glistening with tears, she now glared at the maid with fierce indignation.

It was as if she were defending Wen Xuxu—wholeheartedly, passionately.

Defending her?

Wen Xuxu let out a cold, bitter laugh. She stared at Gu Xia’s performative righteousness and felt nothing but disgust.

But the man—her *man*—was utterly charmed. Seeing Gu Xia act so noble, so selfless, his earlier rage melted away like snow under sunlight.

“You don’t need to beg her,” he said coolly. “If you want to do something good for my son, there are plenty of other ways.”

Gu Xia’s eyes lit up instantly. She lifted her head, trembling with joy. “Sijue… you mean it? You’re… forgiving me? Oh, Sijue—I’m so happy… so happy…”

Tears spilled again—but this time, they were real. She had won.

Wen Xuxu trembled from head to toe.

Not from anger alone—but from betrayal, from heartbreak, from a sorrow so vast it choked her. She never thought he could be so blind. Didn’t he see? Didn’t he realize this woman was faking it—playing the victim, manipulating everyone?

Or worse… did he simply not care?

She was his favorite. His queen. No matter what she did, no matter how many times she hurt him, he would always forgive her—pretend it never happened. Just like the time she was eight months pregnant, and he stepped over their bodies, crushing them both, just to preserve his so-called *great love*.

Wen Xuxu clutched her son tightly, burying her face in his small, soft hair. Her eyes burned red, wet with unshed tears.

“Auntie?”

Mobo, sensing her distress, reached up with tiny hands and hugged her back.

He finally understood. Mommy had been treated like this—by a father who couldn’t see. And he knew, deep down, that this man didn’t deserve pity. Mommy had been right to leave. He was glad he’d grown up beside her, not him.

“Auntie, don’t cry,” he whispered.

“I’m not sad, sweetheart,” Wen Xuxu murmured, brushing away the tears with a quick swipe. “I promise you—no harm will ever come to you. Not while I’m alive. Even if it costs me my life, I’ll protect you. Do you hear me?”

She looked into her son’s innocent face, wiped her eyes fast, and smiled through the pain.

Mobo didn’t say anything—but Huo Sijue, sensing something was wrong, finally turned his gaze toward them. His eyes narrowed, sharp as blades.

“Wen Xuxu,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “What are you planning?”

For the first time in years, she felt nothing—no fear, no hope, no rage. Only emptiness. The kind that comes when the heart is broken beyond repair.

“What do you think I’m doing, Mr. Huo?” she replied calmly. “You’ve already abandoned your son’s safety. So don’t blame me if I stop being gentle. From this moment on, my only mission in life is to take away your right to be a father.”

“Me?” he scoffed. “You?”

“Yes. Me. If I crawled out of a grave once, I can do something far worse. Remember—when a rabbit is cornered, it bites. Think carefully, Huo Sijue.”

The last words hung in the air like a threat.

Because as he looked at her now, he saw it—the bloodshot eyes, the twisted, seething hatred boiling beneath the surface. There was no doubt in his mind: if she had a knife right then, she’d use it—without hesitation—to slaughter anyone standing between her and her son.

She wasn’t just angry. She was insane.

Huo Sijue swallowed hard. “Are you seriously mentally ill?”

“I don’t know if I am,” she said softly. “But if I ever see so much as a scratch on my child again… I’ll make sure she never walks again.”

Before anyone could react, Wen Xuxu grabbed the nearby maid, Chen Ma, yanked her forward—and drove her hand straight into the woman’s neck with brutal force.

A scream tore through the room.

Then silence.

Chen Ma collapsed instantly, clutching her throat, eyes wide with shock—before going limp.

The entire dining room froze. Stunned. Shocked. Like lightning had struck them all at once.