She resented having to be so guarded against herself, Zhao Qingya clenched her fist tightly and nodded, saying, "Okay."
Together, they walked to the loquat tree that had just sprouted new buds, where Han Zheng said gently, "What’s the matter?"
Zhao Qingya intended to deceive Han Zheng immediately, telling him that Han Muchuan was their biological son.
But, before coming here, things unexpectedly went smoothly, and the ambitious Han Muchuan, who had designs on Meng Chuyue, pleaded with Zhao Qingya not to say so before he arrived.
If she really said that, he and Meng Chuyue would be half-siblings with the same father but different mothers, and what’s more, their mothers would be blood-related cousins. How could he pursue her then?
He persuaded Zhao Qingya, "This can easily be exposed, and if it does, it would be terrible. Don’t say it unless it’s absolutely necessary."
Zhao Qingya had always thought that Han Muchuan and Lee Mi had a stable relationship and hadn’t thought much about it. She also felt that lying was risky, so she came up with another story, "Actually, our child didn’t die back then; he was just stolen by someone. He is your biological son, can you try to find him?"
Han Zheng sneered inwardly, but his face showed great shock and guilt. He was silent for a long time before reproaching Zhao Qingya, "Why didn’t you tell me back then? If you had told me, I..."
Zhao Qingya knew the words Han Zheng left unsaid were "I would certainly have married you."
To be honest, she now regretted it a lot.
She regretted not being scheming enough when she was younger.
When Han Zheng regained his memory, she should have lied to him that she had given birth to their child but given the baby away or that the baby was stolen.
In that case, Han Zheng would surely have accepted her confession and allowed her to divorce.
But back then, she only knew resentment and resignation.
She smiled bitterly, "It’s useless to talk about this now. Our son is very handsome; I think he must have been bought by someone who couldn’t have children and raised as their own son. He is definitely still alive. Han Zheng, this is all I hope for, you’re more capable than I am, help me find him, okay?"
Han Zheng sighed deeply with sorrow, "I promise you, as you said, he is also my son. Besides, as long as he’s not living poorly, I would want to make it up to him."
Zhao Qingya’s eyes lit up, and she whispered, "Should we keep this from Chuyue? Otherwise, she might worry about a brother splitting the inheritance, right?"
She spoke as if the situation was real, giving Han Zheng a preemptive explanation.
"It won’t," Han Zheng shook his head with certainty, "Chuyue can earn her own money, and Ah Ci is even better at making money. The amount they to charity each year is more than my entire estate. When we find our son, she won’t fight over the inheritance but will probably even give him some, of course, that’s assuming his character is decent."
This ostentatiously wealthy...
Zhao Qingya couldn’t help but swallow her saliva.
Now, she suddenly didn’t want revenge on Han Zheng anymore.
She just wanted to conjure up a son out of thin air and enjoy wealth and happiness with Han Zheng and Meng Chuyue with her son.
However, although she had originally intended to give birth to that child... she had accidentally lost it...
Back then, she had actually wanted to give birth to the child and then wait for Han Zheng to come back.
Sadly, not only did Han Zheng never come back, but the child was lost as well.
And this event was unfortunately discovered by that damned scoundrel, otherwise, she would not have been forced to marry him...
Remembering the past, Zhao Qingya’s resentment surged anew.
However, different from the times she secretly cursed Han Zheng to the high heavens, she also began to defend him: Han Zheng had amnesia, it wasn’t like he intentionally failed her.
After he regained his memory, refusing her—a married woman—was only human nature, just like how that scoundrel forcefully married her, knowing she was pregnant with Han Zheng’s child, yet after marriage, he always scorned her as damaged goods, finding her dirty...
Damn it, even though she had killed that scoundrel, the hatred in her heart hadn’t subsided; she really wanted to drag him out of his coffin and dismember him a thousand times over.