Li Lingyi had initially scoffed, convinced the first hospital director was bluffing. As the wife of Vice Mayor Xia Guopeng, she'd seen it all. But after visiting six hospitals, each offering the same deferential treatment and outright refusal, she was utterly gobsmacked. No Vice Mayor, however powerful, could control every hospital in the country! So, the person pulling the strings… was someone even morepowerful than Xia Guopeng?
And then, astonishingly, news arrived that very day. Xia Guopeng, locked in a fierce battle for the mayoral seat he had little hope of winning, suddenly found himself miraculously promoted. Simultaneously, Xia Xingkong received direct admission into the elite international dance troupe she'd coveted for years – a troupe that never made exceptions, until now.
The unspoken condition for these windfalls was chillingly clear: Xia Xingchen's child must be born.
That Night.
Returning from the hospital, Xia Xingchen sank into her bathtub, her thoughts a turbulent whirlpool.
Who was this 'Bai'? What kind of man wielded such god-like power, effortlessly controlling every hospital in S Country? Manipulating her father's career, her sister's dreams… her own fate? Conceived against her will, and now denied the choice to end it? If he wanted this child so desperately… did that mean, eventually, he would appear?
The thought struck her like lightning. She surged out of the water, gasping, a new resolve hardening within her. Fine. She'd keep the child. She'd force this shadowy puppeteer into the light. And when she finally faced him… that undeserved slap would be repaid a hundredfold.
...Five Years Later...
Xingchen had clung to the belief that the man would appear the moment she gave birth.
She was wrong.
Five years passed. She'd graduated with honors in Foreign Languages, landed a prestigious job at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and moved out of the Xia family home. Xia Daba ("Big White") was now four years old. And the man? Vanished.
Not a single sign.
Gradually, Xingchen pushed the memory of him aside. Her life now revolved around her brilliant son – simple, peaceful, filled with quiet joy. She cherished their bond and thanked her past self for choosing to keep him. Though the years had brought judgmental stares and her grandparents' affection shifting entirely to Xingkong, she harbored no regrets.
Returning home from work, keys jingling, she found Daba sprawled on the sofa, glued to… the financial news channel. Again.
"Daba, sweetie, you're four. Can we watch something actually meant for four-year-olds? How about Pleasant Goat?"
"Nah, that's for babies," Daba dismissed instantly.
"…" Xingchen felt a phantom wound. She likedPleasant Goat! Being called a baby by a toddler stung.
"You are a baby. Watch baby shows. I'm changing it."
"Okay, okay, change it. I know Silly Mama can't understand stock tickers anyway." Daba handed her the remote with exaggerated patience.
"…" Xingchen's eye twitched. She swatted his head lightly. "Do you have to crush my ego every day? Brat!"
Xingchen knew she'd hit the jackpot with Xia Daba.
He was astonishingly bright, unfailingly kind, and never once complained about not having a dad like other kids. His interests baffled her: complex financial data, intricate aerospace models, high-level puzzle shows – all child's play to him. Initially, his intellectual superiority stung her pride, but constant exposure bred acceptance. Plus, showing off her ridiculously handsome, miniature genius son in public? Priceless. She'd even mentally lined up a few future daughter-in-law candidates.
"Alright, Daba, Mama's changing, then we go eat." She ruffled his hair.
He waved her off. "Go, go!"
…
Xingchen showered, shedding her professional suit for a vibrant sunshine-yellow sundress. At 23, mother to a four-year-old, she was still radiantly young. The yellow lit up her features, making her skin glow like porcelain. She emerged from her room, ready… only to find the living room eerily empty.
"Daba?"
Silence.
"Xia Daba! Come on, we're late!" Her voice tightened as she pushed open his bedroom door. Empty. A cold prickle of dread shot down her spine. She dashed to the bathroom. Empty.
"Daba! XIA DABA!" She forced calm, scanning every nook, every hiding spot. "Daba! Come out NOW! Hide-and-seek is over! Mama's getting angry!" Her voice cracked, the forced anger failing to mask rising panic.
He always came out. Always. But not today. He was gone. Frantic, she bolted into the hallway, searching desperately. Nothing. Hands trembling, she fumbled for her phone, about to call her powerful Mayor father.
"Xingchen! I just saw your Daba!"
The voice of her neighbor was a lifeline. Xingchen grabbed her arm. "Where? Where is he?!"
"Just went downstairs! Hurry! Men in black suits… they carried him down."
Xingchen's heart plummeted. No time for thanks. She flew down the stairs.
At the apartment complex entrance, a scene unfolded like a movie: A convoy of a dozen identical luxury cars, engines purring, lined the curb with intimidating precision. Curious onlookers gathered, buzzing with excitement, but were held at bay by stern men in black suits – a fifty-meter exclusion zone enforced.
"Xingchen! He's in that one! The third car!" Someone pointed urgently towards a gleaming black Bentley.