Chapter 79: Not Tired at All
This speculation left Gu Qinghuan thoroughly shaken, but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense.
Yu Wenxiu had been searching for her child in this city for several years. If you divided wealthy families into three tiers—moderately wealthy, very wealthy, and extremely wealthy—Yu Wenxiu had probably already searched through the moderately wealthy ones.
Since there was still no news of the child, the search had to focus on the very wealthy and extremely wealthy families.
Such families would be likely to send a child to Mingde High, and among the people Gu Qinghuan knew at Mingde High, only one fit the criteria: Yu Yuan.
Of course, Gu Qinghuan didn’t know many people. If she investigated the eleven classes outside the third class, there might still be someone who fit the criteria.
But didn’t this just happen to coincide perfectly? So the first person she would consider had to be Yu Yuan!
More importantly, Gu Qinghuan had a very simple way to investigate without involving anyone else’s privacy.
She called out in her mind, full of energy: [System——]
System: […Stop yelling, I know what you’re thinking.]
Gu Qinghuan: So, the answer is?
System: It’s exactly as you think.
Although the System generally didn’t reveal the future, this information wasn’t about a “potentially impossible future” but a fact that had already occurred. Moreover, with Gu Qinghuan’s current connections, she had the means to investigate thoroughly.
Given this, the System aimed to minimize unnecessary effort for the host—its proper role as an assistant.
If she weren’t still peeling chestnuts, Gu Qinghuan would have patted her forehead: “What luck, just happened to run into Aunt Yu.”
Luck? Not really—after all, Yu Wenxiu had been found and arranged by Xia He to work as a nanny for the Gu family.
Even though Xia He only valued Yu Wenxiu’s work skills, thought she was suitable, and then didn’t intervene further, he was still “that Xia He.” He was destined to find and connect these people.
The System didn’t respond, and Gu Qinghuan didn’t notice. Her mind was entirely occupied with the thoughts: “Yu Wenxiu is Yu Yuan’s biological mother” and “Yu Yuan is Yu Wenxiu’s biological daughter.”
For a moment, she considered whether she should subtly tell Yu Wenxiu that she knew a child adopted by a wealthy family.
But she quickly dismissed the idea. The reason was simple: Yu Yuan wasn’t ready.
Right now, Yu Yuan already had a ton of things to worry about.
Whether it was the conflicts with Yu Xin or life in the Gu household, Yu Yuan had too much to think about. She wouldn’t have time to process all this information.
In such a situation, telling Yu Yuan about Yu Wenxiu—frankly—would more likely make her collapse under the “truth” rather than feel moved by a mother who had worked so hard to find her.
Yu Xin was a true heiress, with a wealthy family, friends who supported her, and gradually winning the affection of her family.
But Yu Yuan? She was a fake heiress, with no friends, no recognition or support. When her real mother finally appeared, it would completely shatter the mask she had been putting up.
Even after living in the Gu household for over a decade, she was still “fake.”
“Fake” could never surpass “real.”
“Aunt Yu,” Gu Qinghuan looked up at Yu Wenxiu, seemingly curious, “After searching for your daughter for so long, don’t you get tired?”
Yu Wenxiu thought for a moment and said calmly, “Of course I get tired. Over these years, there were often times I felt exhausted, especially when employers scolded me.”
Then she smiled: “But now, I know so many things. When my daughter comes to me, I can cook delicious food for her, style her hair beautifully, make little handbags and felt crafts… I even learned pet grooming! If she likes small animals, I can take care of them cleanly and cutely for her…”
“Thinking like this, I don’t feel tired at all.”
She wasn’t tired; she would continue searching until the day she found her daughter.
Gu Qinghuan thought she should have recorded this on her phone—Yu Yuan should know how much her biological mother loved her.
But for now, Yu Wenxiu would have to wait a little longer—until Yu Yuan was ready to fully embrace the love that belonged to her.
Perhaps because Yu Wenxiu had spoken her heart out, she was in a good mood, and her cooking at lunch was even better.
Gu Qinghuan ate her fill and lay motionless on the sofa.
Gu Min watched, feeling a pang of concern, and turned to Gu Haiyan: “You’ve been with Jia’an for over ten years. How come your cooking skills haven’t improved? Look at my granddaughter—starving!”
Wang Jia’an opened his mouth but held back the thought: “She eats plenty at home anyway.”
Gu Haiyan glanced at Gu Qinghuan, who obediently rolled over and clung to Gu Min’s arm, acting spoiled: “Grandma, I do eat a lot at home, but Aunt Yu’s food is just too delicious, that’s why I overate.”
Gu Min patted Gu Qinghuan’s head and reluctantly accepted this explanation: “Little Yu is better at cooking than your mom and dad.”
Yu Wenxiu covered her mouth nearby, laughing so hard her shoulders shook.
After lunch, Gu Haiyan and Gu Min wanted to chat longer, but seeing Gu Qinghuan and Wang Jia’an idling, they waved dismissively, letting the two head home first.
On the way, Wang Jia’an thought and asked: “Huan Huan, what if I enroll in an adult night school to learn cooking?”
“Yes! I want soup dumplings!” Gu Qinghuan raised both hands in support.
“Isn’t that a bit difficult?” Wang Jia’an bargained.
Gu Qinghuan immediately lost interest: “Then you learn by yourself, Dad.” No matter how poorly he learned, it couldn’t be worse than now.
Riding his electric bike, unable to see Gu Qinghuan’s expressions in the back seat, Wang Jia’an felt motivated.
He wanted to cook a full table of delicious food, just like Yu Wenxiu!
Meanwhile, Yu Xin didn’t know what earth-shattering secret Gu Qinghuan had discovered. She only knew she needed to prepare at least one cat treat for Sesame as a reward.
For the first time, Sesame stepped out of Yu Xin’s room, eyes wide, head spinning.
Yu Xin carried the cat to Yu Yuan’s door, holding Sesame in one hand while knocking with the other: “Yu Yuan.”
No response came from inside, so Yu Xin knocked again: “I left Sesame at your door.”
Sesame: Mom?!
Footsteps quickly approached, and the door swung open.
The moment Yu Yuan appeared, she immediately scolded Yu Xin: “How could you leave Sesame here! If Mom sees it, she might dislike Sesame and send it away too!”
She spoke quickly and anxiously, only realizing Yu Xin was still holding Sesame and hadn’t let go at all.
Yu Yuan: …I’ve been played.
Yu Xin held Sesame up in front of Yu Yuan and said seriously: “You really don’t want to play with him?”
Yu Yuan tried to keep a stern face, but as soon as Sesame meowed, she couldn’t help but melt.
“I just want to play with Sesame, not with you,” Yu Yuan mumbled, turning slightly: “I hate you, you’re the worst.”
“Yes, Sesame, go play in Auntie’s room,” Yu Xin lifted Sesame’s paws and waved at Yu Yuan.
Yu Yuan couldn’t maintain her composure, a smile blossoming on her face, then quickly retracted it.
Watching her expression, Yu Xin thought: Later, I’ll give Sesame a few freeze-dried treats when we get back.
