Lost daughter

The cemetery was quiet.

A stillness lingered in the air, thick with the scent of damp earth and freshly cut grass. The sky stretched endlessly above, pale gray clouds rolling across the horizon.

I exhaled slowly, tightening my grip on the bouquet of white lilies in my hands.

Today was my mother's death anniversary.

Another year.

Another reminder of what I had lost.

Another step closer to making the Zhen family pay.

> "Don't worry, Mum. I will avenge you soon."

The promise burned in my chest, an oath carved deep into my bones.As the car rolled to a stop, I barely waited for the driver to open the door before stepping out.

The cemetery was familiar—a place I had visited every year without fail.

But today, something felt… off.

Something wasn't right.

I paused.

Two figures stood near her grave.

A man. A woman.

Their postures hunched, their presence completely foreign to this space that had always belonged to me and my mother.

My heart stilled.

Then it began to race.

Who were they?

Why were they here?

What right did they have to stand at my mother's grave?

I stepped forward, my strides lengthening as irritation twisted inside me.

The closer I got, the clearer the scene became.

The woman was crying.

No—not crying.

Wailing.

Her frail shoulders shook violently, her hands clutching the tombstone like she was holding onto something that was already slipping away.

I clenched my jaw.

I had never seen anyone grieve my mother like this.

Not even me.

> "Excuse me, who are you people? What are you doing at my mother's grave?"

My voice came out sharper than intended, laced with an urgency I didn't understand.

The woman jerked at my words, as if my voice had physically struck her.

The man turned slowly, his tired, weathered face settling on mine.

And then—recognition hit me like a fist to the gut.

I knew them.

The Jiang couple.

Jiang Yuxi's adoptive parents.

**

I stood there, silent, processing.

The air felt heavier, the weight in my chest pressing harder with every second that passed.

Mr. Jiang straightened his posture, gripping his cane as if it were the only thing keeping him upright.

Mrs. Jiang, however, barely acknowledged my presence.

Her face was a wreck of emotion, her eyes red and swollen, her body trembling as she clung to the tombstone like she was trying to sink into the earth itself.

The sight made something in my stomach twist uncomfortably.

Then she whispered it.

Barely a sound.

But it rang in my ears like thunder.

> "My baby…"

A sharp, unrelenting ache shot through my ribs.

She was looking at the tombstone as she said it.

Not at me.

Not at her husband.

At my mother's name.

I couldn't move, couldn't speak could only stare as the pieces of a puzzle I never knew existed began clicking into place.

The missing Jiang daughter.

The child they had spent their whole lives mourning.

The girl lost in an earthquake decades ago.

Their baby.

My mother.

I swallowed, my throat dry, my mind trying to reject what my heart already knew.

What are the odds?

The Jiang name was common.There had been no reason to ever think we were connected.No reason to ever search.

No reason to believe my mother had a family beyond the two of us.And yet—here they were.

Crying.Mourning.

Screaming for a daughter they had just found, only to lose again.

My fingers dug into the bouquet, the stems bending under the force of my grip.

Mrs. Jiang collapsed onto the grave, her hands shaking as she traced the letters of my mother's name.

> "She was alive… She was alive all this time… and we didn't know."

Her sobs grew louder, raw and unrestrained.

Mr. Jiang didn't stop her.

He simply stood there, shoulders hunched, his face lined with grief too heavy for words.

My own breath shuddered.

I had no memories of my mother speaking about her family.

No stories. No mentions of parents, siblings, or a home she once belonged to.

She had died believing she was alone.

Died thinking she had no one.

And now, they had found her.

Only to lose her all over again.

**

A sharp sting built behind my eyes.

I wasn't someone who cried.

I had buried my grief years ago, locked it away beneath my ambitions, my hatred, my drive to destroy the Zhen family.

But now—now it clawed its way out.

Because my mother had been someone's daughter.

Because she had been wanted.

Because the family she had lost had been searching for her this whole time.

And she had died not knowing.

I let the tears fall.

For the years we lost.

For the time that would never be recovered.

For the cruel twist of fate that had played us all.

Mrs. Jiang's wailing grew quieter, but she didn't stop crying.

Neither did I.

---

Meanwhile, in the System Core…

> SYSTEM 404: [CHECKING PLOT INTEGRITY…]

SYSTEM 404: [PLOT STABLE. MAJOR FAMILY REVELATION HAS OCCURRED.]

SYSTEM 404: [THE MALE LEAD'S TRAGIC BACKSTORY HAS BEEN ENHANCED.]

SYSTEM 404: [PERFECT. ABSOLUTELY PERFECT.]

SYSTEM 404: [HOST'S LOCATION REMAINS UNKNOWN, BUT PLOT IS UNFOLDING FLAWLESSLY.]

SYSTEM 404: [ALL ACCORDING TO PLAN.]*