That evening, Mrs. Nangong and her husband were busy packing their belongings, leaving Yingzi alone in her room reading. In the midst of this, Mr. Nangong brought in a glass of juice for his daughter. Yingzi thought that her father had never once helped her with such small tasks as fetching tea or water; this first gesture of pouring her juice moved her perhaps five parts, so she gulped it down in one go. When she returned to her book, her eyelids felt as heavy as if they were filled with lead, almost requiring a matchstick to prop them open. Reluctantly, she laid aside the book and promptly drifted off to sleep.

Five minutes later, Mr. Nangong quietly pushed the door open a crack. Seeing his daughter fast asleep, he stepped inside with relief and joined his wife in sorting through the remaining items in the room, packing what needed boxing and tying up what needed bundling.

During this time, Mrs. Nangong kept pressing her husband for an explanation. Leaving was one thing, but whisking them away without a word, and the necessity of drugging their daughter—what was going on? Mr. Nangong offered no explanation, giving only one reply: "We'll discuss it once we're away from this place." When his wife pressed further, he put on a stern face, chiding her for having the limited perspective of a woman who never ventures beyond the parlor. Mrs. Nangong then asked no more questions.

In the early hours of the morning, the couple finished packing everything in the house. Mr. Nangong took out three backpacks and carefully placed the valuable jewelry and cash into them separately. He instructed his wife that each of them must carry one bag, ensuring that even if they became separated, each person would have a safeguard.

This suggestion startled Mrs. Nangong. She sank to her knees on the floor, tears welling in her eyes, and addressed her husband: "Since you returned this morning, you've been completely unlike yourself, demanding we move without explanation or allowing me to ask why. Let's not discuss the move now, nor the reason for drugging our daughter. But we are husband and wife, sharing hardship and fortune alike. If you’ve accrued debts to loan sharks, angered the triad, or brought some mortal danger upon yourself, I will not blame you. For all these years, this family has relied solely on you. I only beg you to tell me the truth; even if we end up begging for food, I will never leave your side."

Her words deeply affected Mr. Nangong, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. He glanced at his watch—it was exactly two in the morning, with three hours until the moving truck arrived. Sleep was out of the question for the rest of the night, so he could only sigh and begin to meticulously recount the entire sequence of events:

"Do you remember how Li Xiaoshu came to us fourteen years ago?" Mr. Nangong took a deep breath, pressing a hand to his chest, forcing himself to remain calm.

"I remember," Mrs. Nangong nodded. "It was New Year's Eve. Your seventh and eighth aunts were visiting. After dinner, you went out to see the guests off. Li Tai Zheng appeared at our doorstep, carrying Xiaoshu, who was only a few hours old. He was dusty and covered in snow. At first, I didn't understand why he was there, but when Xiaoshu started crying relentlessly from hunger as he prepared to leave, I suddenly realized: he had brought the child to ask me to nurse her."

"Yes," Mr. Nangong confirmed with a nod. "That night, he truly was there to help Xiaoshu find a wet nurse, though he didn't say it outright. Do you recall that from that day forward, we never saw Mrs. Li again?"

"Yes, the Public Security Bureau came several times. Li Tai Zheng claimed he didn't know where his wife had gone," Mrs. Nangong replied.

"And then, he told everyone that he found Li Xiaoshu by the roadside, correct?" Mr. Nangong continued to prompt.

His wife concurred: "That’s right. I even scolded the child's parents for being so heartless back then. His face turned red and pale, and for a long time, I assumed Xiaoshu was the result of an affair he had with some other woman. For a man of his wealth, having a child or two on the side wouldn't be surprising, especially since Mrs. Li hadn't managed to bear him a son or daughter all those years."

"He lied!" Mr. Nangong suddenly grew agitated, his face contorted in anger. "Xiaoshu is his biological child, and Mrs. Li never disappeared; he hid her away. When I saw her this morning at the funeral home, she had been tortured beyond recognition!"

"How could this be?" Mrs. Nangong exclaimed in shock, slumping back onto the floor. She could not possibly fathom what motive the usually generous, kind, and amiable Mr. Li could have for such an atrocity.