That night, Song Zhicheng and his wife lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.
Mrs. Jiang sat up from the bed in a huff, and soon her shoulders began to tremble, sobbing quietly.
Seeing this, Song Zhicheng cursed the brat a hundred times in his heart but quickly pulled the handkerchief from the bedside table and gently wiped her tears, saying, "Don't cry."
Mrs. Jiang grabbed his hand, sobbing, "Actually, mother was right. It's my failure as a mother. The child was missing for days before we noticed. If I had been more attentive to him, I wouldn't have realized only after he vanished without a trace."
Song Zhicheng said, "Isn't it because the mansion has been in a state of chaos? One thing after another, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to call it a troublesome summer. Besides, as mother said, those two brats planned it all along. This scheme relied on timing, location, and people. We who were caught off guard couldn't possibly outwit them."
