Downstairs, Song Yinyin saw a middle-aged man holding her son, Song Dabai.
"Dabai!" she exclaimed eagerly.
Song Dabai turned his head, caught sight of her, and waved his chubby little hand while running over: "Mommy—"
Song Yinyin opened her arms and wrapped them around her son's small body.
She was terrified, her face ashen.
Her son was her lifeblood; if he went missing, she wouldn't survive.
She held her son tightly, kissing his chubby cheeks over and over. The little guy squirmed in her arms, as if asking for mercy.
Song Yinyin, both angry and anxious, said, "Where did you go just now? What have I told you before? After you use the bathroom, come back to find Mommy immediately."
Song Dabai pouted, aggrieved, and said, "After I used the bathroom, I thought I heard someone playing the piano, so I wanted to take a look and then... then I got lost."
The little guy pursed his lips and tried to defend himself earnestly. His bangs were wet with sweat, sticking softly to his forehead.
"That's just music played by the people at the cemetery; no one is actually playing the piano." She cast her son a stern glance and said helplessly.
Perhaps her son inherited her musical talent, as he had loved playing the piano since he was a child. This time they returned to the country for him to participate in an important domestic piano competition.
While mother and son were talking, they were suddenly interrupted by the surprised voice of a middle-aged man beside them: "Miss!"
Song Yinyin froze for a moment and looked up.
It turned out the speaker was the same middle-aged man who had found her son.
Feeling a sense of familiarity, Song Yinyin couldn't help but ask, "And you are...?"
The middle-aged man appeared to be in his fifties or sixties, yet he dressed properly, with an elegant aura, not looking old at all.
"Miss, I worked beside Mr. Song back in the day, do you still remember?" the middle-aged man said excitedly.
Song Yinyin racked her brains and suddenly realized: "You're Uncle Zhao!"
Zhao Huansheng was the most trusted lawyer beside her grandfather back then. Until her grandfather's death and her parents' divorce, her grandfather's company became her father's. To consolidate his power, her father laid off many old employees, Zhao Hengsheng being one of them.
Having not met for a long time, Zhao Huansheng was very excited and talked a lot with Song Yinyin, mostly asking about her recent situation.
After some small talk, Zhao Huansheng seemed hesitant to speak.
Seeing this, Song Yinyin said, "Uncle Zhao, is there something you want to tell me? Please feel free to speak."
Zhao Huansheng said, "Miss, did you know that when your grandfather passed away, he left you a substantial inheritance? But since you were a minor at the time, it was managed by your father on your behalf."
"According to the agreement back then, this inheritance should have been returned to you by your father when you turned eighteen. Now that you are of age, does Mr. Song...?"
Song Yinyin was taken aback.
The next second, she grasped Zhao Huansheng's arm: "Uncle Zhao, are you serious? My grandfather left an inheritance for me?"
"I swear on my life, what I say is absolutely true."
Zhao Huansheng said seriously, furrowing his brow, his expression filled with worry, "What, you haven't received this inheritance?" His heart sank, confirming what he feared.
Song Yinyin's face turned pale.
Let alone the inheritance itself; she hadn't even heard that her grandfather left her an inheritance!
Her delicate eyebrows furrowed, and her hands, hanging at her sides, clenched tightly.
It seems it's time to confront her cold-hearted and unfeeling father.