Thousands Of People Thought Of Him - Chapter 20

Kidnapping

“‘Just being alive isn’t enough!’ he said. ‘There must be sunshine, freedom, and a little flower too.’”

The little girl held the storybook she was awarded by her teacher, reading it aloud with animated expression and dramatic flair. As she read this part, she sneakily glanced sideways to check the expression of the person beside her—only to find he was spacing out.

“Hey!”

Qin Yiyao jumped to her feet, a spark of anger practically igniting above her head. “You’re not listening to me again!”

The two bodyguards nearby instantly stepped forward into a defensive stance.

Caught red-handed slacking off, Ying Fusang remained completely calm—face unflushed, heartbeat steady—as he denied it, “I was listening.”

“Really?” Qin Yiyao narrowed one eye, visibly suspicious.

Ying Fusang nodded. “Mm.”

“Then, then tell me—what did I just read?”

“No idea.”

“—?!” Qin Yiyao widened her eyes, baffled by the contradiction. “And you still say you were listening?!”

The two bodyguards stepped forward again.

Ying Fusang, expressionless and deadpan, added, “I heard it. But forgot.”

The bodyguards broke into a cold sweat: “…Who’d believe that?”

“Oh wow, you’ve got such a bad memory. Then I’ll read it again for you.”

Qin Yiyao instantly believed him, nodded, and sat back down on the bench with a cheerful grin, happily resuming her reading.

Crisis successfully defused, Ying Fusang returned to spacing out.

Qin Yiyao’s elementary school was located in the city center. Even though it wasn’t rush hour, the road outside the school gates was still bustling with traffic. It was 4:30 p.m. now, and soon, Ying Fusang would have to return to school.

He’d only taken a nap, yet his mind felt empty—as if something important had gone missing.

Watching the ever-changing stream of people passing by, the persistent sense of emptiness and helplessness within him grew heavier.

What exactly had changed since yesterday?

After Qin Muci said that line, Ying Fusang had quietly digested the weight of the information.

“I know you’re shocked,” she sighed softly, then eased into her story with a gentle tone.

“I was born in Country Y and raised there. Under my family’s guidance, I studied fashion design.”

So far, this was all information that could be found on Baidu. Ying Fusang mentally noted how accurate the records were.

“Because of a certain opportunity, I came here on my own as an exchange student to further my studies. Later, at a design exhibition, I happened to meet someone about my age—a sponsor. Your father.”

This was something the public didn’t know.

She glanced at Ying Fusang with a faint smile and continued, “Back then, I hadn’t interacted with many people from Huaguo. After several invitations from him, I came to see him as a refined and charming man.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her smile tinged with self-mockery. “What followed was a cliché. We met, fell in love, and were preparing for marriage—only to find out he already had a wife and child.”

“Even though communication wasn’t as fast back then, I didn’t even read the newspaper. I just let myself be misled by his sweet talk. Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?”

Ying Fusang didn’t believe suffering should be ridiculed. He shook his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Qin Muci paused, her smile fading. “After cutting ties with him, I went to the hospital without hesitation—but was talked out of it by a friend. In the end, I gave birth to you.”

“But even so, I didn’t want to see you, didn’t want to raise you, even grew to deeply resent your existence.”

Even the dumbest robot has some level of comprehension, but it doesn’t feel. Yet when Ying Fusang heard those words from his biological mother, he experienced an indescribable, dull ache.

Was it because he didn’t have a mechanical heart?

Ignoring the feeling, Ying Fusang calmly picked up the thread. “So you left me at the orphanage.”

“Yes.” She seemed slightly surprised by his calm reaction, then continued, “So, can you understand me?”

Ying Fusang’s fingernails were neatly trimmed, not long. But in just this short time, he had dug his fingernail into his knuckle so hard that it bled—without even realizing it.

Wrong answers can be erased with correction tape. Mistyped code can be deleted. But what do you do with something that was a mistake from the moment it existed?

Rational analysis told him: Qin Muci was the victim. Her experience was unfortunate. And he just happened to be the evidence of her misfortune.

“…I understand you.”

Hearing this, Qin Muci smiled again. The look in her eyes grew more pitying.

Ying Fusang really wanted to ask: If that’s how you felt, why seek me out again? Why insist on taking me in? Isn’t that contradictory?

There were many things he couldn’t figure out. But he could tell she didn’t want to talk about it further, so he didn’t press—just redirected the conversation back to her initial proposal, which he rejected.

She didn’t push. She simply nodded and smiled, “Alright. I plan to stay in the country for a while anyway. Maybe one day you’ll change your mind.”

Ying Fusang gave no response.

Then she suddenly mentioned her daughter, Qin Yiyao. “Funny, you and your little sister have already met.”

“I’ve been really busy lately, and she won’t go home unless I pick her up personally. Now that her father’s not in the country, could you help keep her company if you have time? I think she really likes you.”

Whenever she talked about Qin Yiyao, her face softened into a smile full of warmth and affection.

Taking human dynamics and social norms into account, Ying Fusang agreed.

Which was how he ended up sitting at the school gate with this little girl now.

…

“Why isn’t Mommy here yet…”

Getting bored, Qin Yiyao closed her book and rested her chin in her hands.

No one to talk to either.

She was convinced Ying Fusang wasn’t talking to her because of the two big, hulking bodyguards.

She thought for a moment, then had a flash of inspiration. Tilting her head back, she commanded, “I’m thirsty! You—go get me something to drink. And you—go buy me a little cake.”

The two bodyguards declined seriously. “Apologies, Miss. We must ensure your safety. We can’t leave.”

Ying Fusang glanced at her, then stood up and offered, “I’ll go.”

“No, no, I want them to go! The shop’s right over there, what’s there to worry about!” Qin Yiyao squirmed on the bench, almost on the verge of throwing a tantrum. “If you don’t go, I—I’ll tell Mommy you were mean to me!”

The shop was barely ten meters away—really not far. More importantly…

Kids don’t lie, but they sure say nonsense.

The bodyguards knew her personality well. They exchanged hesitant looks.

“…Alright. Miss, stay right here. Don’t move. We’ll be back quickly.”

Qin Yiyao nodded vigorously, finally getting her way.

“Hey, hey, hey, why did you come pick me up from school?” She scooted up next to Ying Fusang, finally voicing the question she’d been holding in for a long time.

The sidewalk was growing less crowded.

Qin Muci likely hadn’t told her daughter about his identity, so Ying Fusang didn’t bring it up either. He searched his mind for a suitable excuse.

“Because…”

Just then, Qin Yiyao’s eyes went wide in horror, staring at something behind him like she’d seen a ghost.

What—?

Instinct kicked in. Ying Fusang quickly turned, ready to dodge!

But the attacker had come prepared. With lightning speed, they pinned his limbs.

In the next second, a foul-smelling cloth was pressed hard against his nose and mouth—

His eyelids grew heavy. Consciousness slipped away fast.

…

Unconscious.

No idea how much time passed. Ying Fusang’s first coherent thought was: dizzy. Deeply, violently dizzy—like someone had thrown him into a washing machine and hit spin cycle fifty times. The vertigo even triggered heart palpitations.

He didn’t open his eyes immediately. Instead, he calmly listened, trying to gather information about his surroundings.

His hands and feet were bound—but his eyes weren’t covered, nor was his mouth gagged.

The floor beneath him jolted and bumped, the sound of tires grinding against pavement loud in his ears. Metal clanged and rattled. He was likely in a moving vehicle.

He focused, and finally picked up faint voices. But they weren’t speaking Chinese or English. The garbled foreign language made his head spin and ache.

Human trafficking? Organ harvesting? Kidnapping?

After a moment’s thought, Ying Fusang slowly opened his eyes.

Pitch black.

Probably a truck. He could feel wind seeping in through gaps. All around him seemed to be covered in heavy black fabric—very effective at blocking light. Unfortunately, Ying Fusang had terrible night vision, especially in near-total darkness like this.

Just then, a faint rustle came from his right.

“…Mmph…”

It was Qin Yiyao’s voice.

Ying Fusang made a “shhh” sound to quiet her. Thankfully, she had better night vision than him and recognized his outline.

She crawled closer, sniffling softly. “I-Is it… Y-Ying…”

“It’s me.”

The kidnappers were likely all in the front of the vehicle and hadn’t noticed anything yet—this was the best chance to escape.

Ying Fusang suddenly asked, “Are your hands and feet free?”

Qin Yiyao nodded, then said a soft “mm” just in case he couldn’t see.

Apparently the kidnappers hadn’t restrained her, thinking she posed no threat or escape risk.

“Can you help untie me?” Ying Fusang extended his wrists.

Qin Yiyao understood immediately, but the rope wasn’t ordinary—it was made of a tough material. She couldn’t see well and was scared, fumbling with it unsuccessfully. She was on the verge of tears. “I—I can’t…”

Time was tight. Ying Fusang calmly said, “It’s alright. Leave it.”

Just then, his wrist brushed against something hard and cold.

“Do you have anything on your wrist?” he asked quietly.

“It’s my watch…” Qin Yiyao whispered, surprised.

Despite everything, she was unusually smart and calm for her age. Realizing her kids’ phone-watch hadn’t been taken, she quickly bent over and tried to turn it on.

Just before she pressed the button, Ying Fusang suddenly thought of something and said:

“Wait—!”

Too late.

The cheerful startup jingle of a children’s smartwatch echoed through the entire truck.

The muffled chatter in the front instantly stopped.

With a screeching halt, the truck came to a sharp stop.