But something had.
Because two sons now stood in a hall full of power and light, holding the weight of betrayal in their chests, and wondering…
If the blood that made them was ever truly their own.
Lu Ting Zhou stood frozen, the opulence of the ballroom fading into a muted blur. His fingers, once twitching from nerves, now curled into fists—not from fear, but from something far colder. Betrayal had a weight, and now it sat heavy in his chest, making it hard to breathe.
Lu Ting Cheng didn't move either. He stared at the floor where his mother had just stood, his jaw tight enough to crack. His entire life had been about discipline, control, and proving himself worthy. But now, a truth he had never imagined festered in his blood.
Stolen life. Borrowed womb. Manufactured legacy.
Yes, they had known she had stolen his sperm, but again, it was through surrogacy? What did she mean by saying they were a project? What kind of a project was it? Test tube babies? Aliens? Rare dainties?
Zi Zhen remained beside them, a calm presence in the storm. "You don't owe her a damn thing," he said quietly, only loud enough for the brothers to hear. "You were raised by Father. And when he couldn't—Ruyi did. You know who your real family is. Stop getting worked up with people who left you behind."
Lu Zhi Hao approached slowly. He had thought she would at least repent and try to justify why she had abandoned them, but no, she seemed to be after them, to embarrass them. Who does that to her kids? Where are the mother instincts?
He placed his arms across their shoulders. "We will never speak of her again," he said, voice firm but quiet, and this was like a closure for them. "Not because it's shameful. But because it doesn't matter anymore, she isn't worth your time."
Ting Zhou's voice cracked. "But she—she created us. Like an experiment. What kind of experiment is she talking of, Father? Where? How? And when?" This thing pained him heavily.
"No," Lu Zhi Hao interrupted, eyes dark with conviction. "She might have played god with your conception, but she never made you. I did. With every lesson, every sleepless night, every scar and success, we built you. Not her."
Lu Ting Cheng finally looked up, his composure beginning to return. "Why didn't you tell us before?"
"Because I thought she was dead to us. I never imagined she'd come back… flaunting her betrayal like a trophy. I didn't want to see you break down."
Wan Ruyi joined them then, calm and regal as always. She brushed an invisible thread off Ting Zhou's sleeve, a motherly gesture so subtle it almost went unnoticed.
"I knew what she did," she said simply. "And I chose to love you anyway. That's what makes us stronger than her. Love wasn't part of her plan. But it's what we built."
Lu Ting Zhou looked at her, emotion thick in his throat. "Do you regret… taking us in? Do you regret being our mommy?"
She tilted her head slightly, eyes gleaming with quiet steel. "Never. You boys were the best kind of chaos to enter my life. You don't know how much you mean to me, you are my world."
The tension began to ease. And with their mother's comforting love, they felt like that woman truly didn't deserve them.
But the air hadn't returned to normal, not quite.
Because across the hall, where the light dimmed and the whispers had just begun again, Nathan Reyes stood at the edge of the shadows, having seen—and heard—far more than anyone realized.