After the snow, the sun shone brightly.
A black sedan sped across the G City cross-sea bridge, carrying a five-year-old boy and his excited anticipation of seeing his father.
So, he did have a father too.
No one will ever dare to call him a fatherless wild child again.
Five-year-old Fu Yanshen was full of anticipation.
At that time, his name was Qiao Che.
His mother, Qiao Wan, sat beside him.
She has fair skin and a beautiful face, especially her deep, bright, captivating, and story-filled European-style eyes.
A few days ago, during a blizzard, Qiao Wan slipped and fell, hitting her head.
She suddenly realized that Dai Xiufen had caused her to lose her memory and forget her fiancé, Sheng Minghui. She had been raising her son alone in a daze.
She came to Beijing to seek justice for herself and her son.
Just then, a strong push came from behind, accompanied by screams, sudden braking, and the sound of an impact. Qiao Wan instinctively used her slender body to shield her son in her arms.
The world spun and shook violently.
The world suddenly seemed to turn dark. Fu Yanshen lay in his mother's arms, not daring to move.
"President Sheng instructed that neither the mother nor the child should live!"
"This CEO Sheng is too ruthless. Don't people usually just take the mother and keep the child, even if they don't want the son?"
"Nonsense, if this son goes back, do you think his wife will let him? Quick, quick, light the fire!"
Although he was only five years old, Fu Yanshen could still tell that someone wanted to kill him and his mother. The person was "President Sheng," his father.
His father wanted to kill him.
The knocked-out Qiao Wan was awakened by the pungent smell, and the intense firelight reflected in her deep European-style eyes filled with terror.
With trembling hands, she mustered all her strength to push open the wrecked car door and carry her son out of her arms.
...
The little boy stood by the car door, his small hands gripping his mother's arm tightly, his teeth clenched, and he used all his strength to pull her out.
However, it was to no avail.
He couldn't pull his mother out of the fire no matter what he did.
Five-year-old Fu Yanshen experienced despair for the first time.
"Che'er, you're the child who listens to your mother the most, aren't you?"
The boy nodded heavily, tears streaming down his face.
"Che'er, listen to your mother, run..." In her final moments, Qiao Wan used her last bit of strength to urge her son outside the car.
She took one last, deep look at her son.
With jet-black hair, fair skin, and features reminiscent of mixed-race heritage, he is handsome and refined. Dressed in a British-style trench coat, he exudes an air of nobility, like a little prince.
...
The sky, which was originally clear, is now covered by dark clouds and a strong wind is blowing.
On the bridge, a car was engulfed in flames, and two men chased after a little boy, watching helplessly as the child climbed onto the bridge railing and jumped off.
At a height of twenty or thirty meters, in the deep sea, such a small child would be scared to death, let alone drown.
The two thugs left satisfied.
In the dead of winter, the seawater is icy cold, rushing into your mouth and nose, robbing you of your breath.
Fu Yanshen was rescued by fishermen.
That family happened to be unable to have children, and since the boy was handsome, the couple raised him as their own.
The wind was strong at sea, and the ultraviolet rays were intense, making people tanned and thin. But the little boy's naturally pale face never tanned.
The more you look at her, the more you like her.
The couple treated him like their own son. Every time they brought back the most expensive and best fish and shrimp from the sea, they would save them for him to eat, instead of selling them.
After getting ashore, they went to the mall and bought him very expensive children's clothes and shoes.
However, this child was too withdrawn and introverted, hardly ever talking to them. His little face was always cool, and he never showed any emotions such as joy, anger, sorrow, or happiness.
He was also very sensible; during the busy fishing season, he would always heat up meals and wait for them to come back.
“This child is no good. Last night, he secretly used scallop shells to hurt himself again. His little arm was cut and bleeding, but he didn’t seem to feel any pain.”
"I'm afraid he has mental problems. If he causes someone's death in our hands, then it'll be hard to explain!"
"Sigh... let's send them to an orphanage."
Inside the door, Xiao Fu Yanshen overheard his adoptive parents' conversation, his fingers tightly gripping the warm dish of food.
This dish was something he secretly learned to cook from his adoptive mother; it was his adoptive father's favorite appetizer: spicy stir-fried clams.
...
The day he was sent away, his adoptive mother was reluctant to part with him. She hugged him, wiped away her tears, and murmured, "If only you were a normal child."
Fu Yanshen broke free from her, his fair face as cold as ice.
...
Later, he was abandoned twice more.
No family was willing to adopt him anymore, and he refused to go.
If you don't possess it, you won't lose it.
*
Young Fu Yanshen was a loner in the orphanage, a troublemaker whom no one dared to mess with.
No matter how well others treat him, he sees it as someone with ulterior motives. He is unmoved by their kindness and watches coldly as they are bullied.
"Shen, please help Ren! He's being beaten to death!"
The young girl, Shi Jin, dressed in a flowing white dress, ran up to Fu Yanshen, her face filled with anxiety and her brows furrowed.
Under the gloomy sky, a young man dressed in black leaned against a red brick wall, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, his expression indifferent, a faint, cold smile playing on his lips, before turning his face away.
Ignoring it.
Shi Jin was so anxious she almost cried, "A Shen! A Ren will die!"
Fu Yanshen remained unmoved.
He even thought, what's wrong with dying?
Living is so fucking boring.
That day, Shi Jin was beaten until she was covered in blood while protecting Fu Ren, her white dress stained red. She didn't feel pain; on the contrary, she enjoyed it, enjoying the feeling of being praised for her kind heart.
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