"What… what did you just say?"
Old Master Zhang's voice thundered through the small courtyard, startling even the chickens pecking at the dust outside.
He stared at the elegant woman sitting across from him — hair perfectly pinned, lipstick flawless, the kind of grace that didn't belong in a humble village like theirs.
Her eyes shimmered with tears as she turned toward the young man beside him.
"I said," she repeated, her voice trembling, "Zhang Rui is my son. My long-lost son. I've come to bring him home."
The words hung in the air, thick and impossible.
For a moment, no one spoke. Even the cicadas seemed to forget to hum.
Then—
"What did she say?!"
"Old Zhang's Rui? Her son?"
"She's joking, right?"
"Look outside! Did you see those cars? Mercedes! BMW! I counted eight!"
Half the village had gathered outside the Zhang family courtyard, faces pressed against the wooden gate, ears practically glued to the cracks in the wall.
"Ai-yo, she must be crazy!" one woman whispered loudly. "Old Zhang's Rui? That boy can't even afford to buy slippers without holes!"
"Didn't Old Zhang pick him up from the forest?" another hissed back. "Everyone knows that story!"
The murmurs grew louder, a sea of disbelief. People were tiptoeing, climbing onto stools, even shoving each other to catch a glimpse inside.
Inside the courtyard, Old Master Zhang's face had gone pale.
He tried to speak, but his mouth went dry. "Madam, I think… I think you've made a mistake. My Rui—he's just an ordinary boy. He can't be—"
Madam Gong suddenly stood, emotion breaking through her elegant mask. "No! I'm not mistaken." Her voice trembled as tears spilled freely down her cheeks. "I lost my son twenty-two years ago. Someone stole him from me. We searched everywhere—every corner of this country—but he was gone. Until now. Until I saw him."
Her hand reached toward Zhang Rui, fingers shaking.
"When I came to this village for a retreat last month, I saw him on the street. The moment my eyes met his… I knew. I just knew."
Zhang Rui blinked, stunned. "You… saw me?"
Madam Gong nodded, smiling through tears. "It was a mother's instinct. I couldn't ignore it. So we… we ran a DNA test."
The entire courtyard froze.
And then—
Bang!
Old Master Zhang slammed his palm onto the table, sending teacups rattling. "You what?!"
His voice cracked with fury. "How could you do a DNA test on my son without telling me? Who gave you that right?!"
Outside, the gossipers went wild.
"DNA test?! Did you hear that?!"
"She tested him secretly?!"
"Eh, this is better than television!"
Madam Gong bowed her head, sobbing quietly. "I'm sorry. I truly am. I was desperate. I didn't want to raise false hope unless I was sure."
Her assistant stepped forward, holding a sleek black folder. "The results, sir. 99.9% match."
Old Master Zhang's hands shook. "Impossible… impossible…"
He stumbled back, collapsing onto his stool, his chest heaving. "Rui, tell them! Tell them it's nonsense!"
Zhang Rui looked between them — the man who raised him, and the woman who now claimed to be his mother. His lips moved, but no words came out.
"Son," Madam Gong whispered, reaching out again, "please… come home. Your real name is Gong Rui. You belong with us."
Outside, the villagers gasped again.
"Gong family?! The Gong family from the city?"
"The richest one? The one that owns half of Hancheng?!"
"Old Zhang's going to faint!"
And he nearly did.
His world tilted. The crowd outside was now murmuring like a marketplace, recording videos, whispering prayers.
Madam Gong dabbed her tears and turned to Old Master Zhang, bowing low. "Thank you for raising my son all these years. The Gong family owes you a debt we can never repay."
Her voice softened. "But now, it's time he came home."
The silence stretched until it hurt.
Madam Gong sighed softly and rose to her feet. Her voice was gentle, but every word carried authority.
"I know this is hard for you to accept," she said. "You've raised him for twenty-two years, and I don't wish to take that bond away. But he is my son. I can't allow him to remain here any longer."
Old Master Zhang's lips trembled. "You… you mean to take him—now?"
Madam Gong shook her head. "No. I'll give you a week. One week to think about it. After that, the Gong family will come for him."
The words hit like stones.
Old Master Zhang felt as if the air had been sucked out of his lungs. Twenty-two years of laughter, of scraped knees and shared rice bowls—was all of that supposed to vanish in a single week?
He looked at Zhang Rui, whose face was pale as chalk. The boy—his boy—would be gone.
Madam Gong, sensing his resistance, softened her tone. "You will be compensated for what you've done. Generously. And if you wish, I can arrange a stable job for you in the city. You've been his father all these years; I won't separate you completely. But my son must stay close to me. I hope you understand."
No one spoke.
Then she turned, straightened her blazer, and walked out. The bodyguards followed, their polished shoes thudding against the ground like a drumbeat.
The villagers scrambled to clear the path, whispering furiously as the fleet of black cars rolled away in a cloud of dust.
By the time the exhaust settled, half the village already knew: the Gong family had come and gone like a storm—leaving behind a story no one would ever forget.
---
Later that afternoon
Down by the river, the world felt calmer.
Sunlight glittered on the water. A young woman knelt at the bank, her sleeves rolled up, the hem of her simple dress brushing the grass.
Her name was Lin Che.
She was nineteen, with skin as soft as porcelain and hair so dark it gleamed blue under the sun. When she looked up, the wind lifted a few strands across her cheek, and even the river seemed to pause.
She filled her bucket, humming under her breath, thinking only of lunch for her grandparents—until the sound of running footsteps shattered the quiet.
"Che Che! Che Che! Did you hear?!"