Aiden returned home that night to a small, cramped apartment. His foster family was indifferent, their words harsh and dismissive. Li Yueran observed from a distance through the lens of her private investigator, ensuring he was safe without revealing herself.
Every insult, every bruise, every ignored plea reminded her of the years she had lost. She wanted to rush in, to take him away, but she forced herself to wait. She had to tread carefully.
At her office, she poured over photos and reports of his life—every foster parent interaction, every hardship. She cataloged it meticulously, like a general planning a campaign. Each detail became a thread in her growing tapestry of obsession.
Meilin noticed her mother's intensity and felt both awe and fear. "Mother, you can't… you can't follow him everywhere," she whispered.
Li Yueran's gaze was sharp, almost predatory. "I must," she said. "He is mine. Only I can protect him from the world that has been cruel to him."
And so the game began. She would be invisible yet present, silent yet commanding, nurturing yet utterly obsessive.