He ended the call and stared at a framed photo of Xiamen from years ago—before she'd run away, before she'd returned with a child she refused to explain.
His jaw hardened.
"She thinks she can lie to me," he murmured.
"She forgets I built this family on secrets—and I always find the truth."
---
Busan… the next morning
At the edge of Haeundae Beach, two dark-suited men stepped out of a car.
One lifted a tablet showing a photo of Haoyu—big eyes, soft smile, unmistakable.
"Find every medical record, birth entry, witness," the leader said.
The wind whipped his coat sharply behind him.
"Someone in this city knows who fathered this boy."
They split up, moving silently between the alleys and office buildings like shadows wearing suits.
Busan didn't know it yet.
But a hunt had begun.
---
Meanwhile… back at Hong Yi's company
Hong Yi stood in front of the wide glass window of his office, Haoyu's tiny laugh still echoing faintly in his mind.
He hated that it affected him.
He hated even more that Xiamen had looked… frightened.
Not of him.
Of losing the child.
And that fear wasn't normal.
He knew what secrets looked like—he lived among them.
But this one wrapped around Xiamen like barbed wire.
As her father's reaction confirmed.
Hong Yi slid his phone onto the desk and dialed a secure line.
"Yuan," he said quietly.
"I need you to run a silent investigation."
His right-hand man paused. "On what?"
"On Xiamen."
He inhaled slowly.
"And the boy."
"Haoyu?"
"Yes."
There was a beat of stunned silence.
Hong Yi almost heard the unspoken question:
Are you really doubting her?
Hong Yi's voice grew colder, steady.
"She's too protective. Too frightened. Her father is moving pieces in the dark.
I need to know why."
"And the… father of the child?"
"Find out."
His eyes darkened.
"Whether Xiamen wants me to or not."
"Understood."
Hong Yi ended the call and leaned back in his chair.
He didn't want to suspect her.
He didn't want to pry into a life she never willingly shared.
But protection required knowledge.
And something about Haoyu…
Something didn't fit.
The boy clung to him too easily.
Trusted him too fast.
As if—
As if he knew him.
Hong Yi shook off the thought.
Impossible.
Still…
the unease in his chest refused to loosen.
---
Back at the Xiamen estate
Xiamen's father stood with hands behind his back as his secretary approached.
"Sir, the team has landed in Busan. They should have initial information within twelve hours."
"Good," he said.
"By tomorrow morning, I want the name. The face. The bloodline."
He paused, his tone dropping into something darker.
"Because if my daughter believes she can bind herself—and this family—to a man beneath us…"
His eyes turned ice-cold.
"…she will learn how cruel I can be."
---
And in another corner of the city…
Yuan, Hong Yi's trusted man, closed a file with a troubled expression.
He stared at Haoyu's photo.
"I hope the boss knows what he's starting," he muttered.
Then he sent his first message:
Tracing: Haoyu, approx. age 4–5. Mother: Xiamen.
Father: UNKNOWN.
Starting with Busan.
The moment he pressed SEND, two separate investigations began moving toward the same truth—
A truth Xiamen fought desperately to bury.