chapter 56 Mom, don't leave. Momo will be your good baby

. Shang Youqing looked at He Zhimo, who was lying behind the door crying, with unusual composure. Her eyes were calm and cold, without even a slight fluctuation.

After just a few seconds, Shang Youqing withdrew her gaze without another glance, and turned and left.

He Zhimo's face froze for a moment, as if he had finally realized something. He raised his little hand and wiped the tears from his face. He no longer cared about anything else, and ran over to hug Shang Youqing's beautiful wrist.

He looked up from her wrist, and although he tried hard to pout, he couldn't stop the tears from pouring down his face.

"But, but Shang Youqing, Momo is your baby. Storybooks say a mother wouldn't abandon her own baby..."

He Zhimo, newly recovered from a serious illness, his voice still hoarse and anxious, clutched Shang Youqing's wrist and shook it with a throbbing, babyish cry. "Did Daddy make you angry? Momo forgives you this time. You, you must never say such angry words again next time."

Shang Youqing lowered her beautifully curved, yet cold eyes, gazing at the weeping chick before her, her gaze as still as a rippled ice lake.

She easily pushed the chick's soft, trembling hand away, paused, and spoke again, her tone still flat and indifferent: "I'm sorry, Young Master He."

She didn't defend the child-rejecting remarks she had just made in front of He Cong, but calmly and coldly acknowledged them all.

He Zhimo's eyes were getting redder and redder, and his little face was flushed, but he still refused to give up. He stretched out his trembling little hand, wanting to hold her hand again.

The little guy tried to pretend that he didn't understand anything, and asked carefully with a pair of tearful eyes and a trembling baby voice.

"Then, then can I still go to see the cabbages I planted in the future? That is, the cabbages I planted for Shang Youqing, I..."

Shang Youqing avoided the little guy's outstretched hand, "No, the young master's cabbage plot was planted in a mess, I dug it up and replanted it a long time ago."

He Zhimo's little hand was empty, and he looked up at Shang Youqing blankly, tears falling, sobbing softly, "Shang Youqing, please don't talk like this anymore... Momo's heart hurts, it hurts so much..."

But Shang Youqing didn't even look at him, and it seemed that she could no longer bear to stay in the same space with the human father and son in front of her. She didn't want to stay here anymore, and passed by He Cong directly.

He Cong stood still and watched He Zhimo carefully beg Shang Youqing to stay. Finally, when Shang Youqing left indifferently, his dark eyes slowly froze.

The murderous and cold-blooded head of the He family lowered his proud head again in front of Shang Youqing.

His bony palm gently grasped her hand again, the warm fingertips trembling with extreme suppression, and every word was filled with a deliberately cold request.

"Momo is just a three-year-old child, do you have to be so cruel?"

Shang Youqing still had that cold and disgusted expression as if he didn't want to say another word: "Let go."

This time, He Cong stared at her and slowly let go of her hand.

Shang Youqing walked downstairs indifferently and resolutely.

After seeing Shang Youqing walk away, He Zhimo's nostrils twitched violently, and finally, he completely collapsed, and began to sob loudly and chase after him.

The young He Zhimo chased after Shang Youqing, begging her incoherently.

"No, no... Mom, please don't leave Momo. Momo misses you. Momo longs to see Mom every day..."

"Mom, please don't go. Momo will definitely be your good child. Bloodline... offspring... How can I become the offspring Mom wants me to be? Mom, tell Momo... Momo will try my best... Please... wuwuwu, please don't go..."

He Zhimo begged and sobbed, tears streaming down his face as he chased after Shang Youqing. But Shang Youqing never turned back, his back aloof and cold, frightening.

He Zhimo was truly terrified. He was afraid that if he couldn't catch up, he would never see her again. So he ran desperately, recklessly.

But he was only three years old, and he had just suffered a severe fever from tail molting. His calf bones couldn't bear it, and he collapsed to the ground with a thud.

The housekeeper and servants rushed to help him, but He Zhimo refused them all. He only wanted his mom.

With tears streaming down his face, He Zhimo pushed the adults aside. He didn't care that his knees and calves were bruised and bleeding, as if he didn't feel the pain at all, and struggled to get up again.

The little guy ran a few steps and fell, then stumbled and crawled all the way to the gate of Yanyuan, crying and shouting at Shang Youqing's back: "Mommy, don't go, Mommy, Mommy, don't leave Momo..."

But Shang Youqing resolutely got in the car outside the gate and drove away.

He Zhimo cried even harder, like a chick driven out of the nest, with broken wings, fluttering and falling all the way, falling and crawling, refusing to give up.

Until he could no longer stand, could no longer catch up to the car...

He Zhimo slumped to the cold ground, watching the car carrying his mother disappear completely from his tear-blurred vision...

His injured knee bled, and with swollen eyes, He Zhimo lowered his head, looking at the bloodstains on his calf. Suddenly, with a sudden, self-loathing feeling, he wiped away the blood with his small hands, bit by bit.

"Mom, Mom..."

He choked as he wiped

away the blood, aggrieved and painful. He tried to wipe away this impure blood that his mother hated, but the bleeding would not stop, and it only made the wound redder and swollen.

After an unknown amount of time, He Zhimo was tucked into a familiar, warm embrace.

He Zhimo finally stopped struggling.

His tear-soaked face slumped against He Cong's broad shoulders, as if drained of all strength. His beautiful dark eyes were dull, and he lay motionless, allowing He Cong to carry him back to Yanyuan.

When Doctor Lin came hurriedly with a medical kit to treat the wound on the young master He's calf, He Cong had just changed the little guy's clothes and wiped and cleaned the dirt around the wound. The

young master He, who was always optimistic when he was sick and would take the initiative to comfort the doctor like a little adult, was now sitting on the bed with his knees and calves hugged, his little head resting on his calves, his big eyes drooping, and tears falling quietly.

Doctor Lin thought that the young master was crying because he was hurt from the fall, so when he was treating and bandaging the young master's wound, he coaxed the young master and said, "It won't hurt after you apply the medicine, don't be afraid, young master."