A single call of "Madam Han" snapped everyone back to reality.

Han Yunxi’s lips parted slightly, her heart flooded with fear.

She suddenly felt as if everything from the past was slipping beyond her reach.

All eyes turned silently to Hu Ming, faces etched with varied expressions.

Hu Ming strode straight toward them. Glancing at the lavish dinner spread across the table, he arched a brow and smiled.

"Such a feast today. My luck’s truly holding up."

"Hu Ming, just sit down," Han Shuyi said, pulling out the chair beside him. He’d noticed his mother’s face turning ashen.

If this continued, her goodwill toward Hu Ming would erode into sheer tolerance.

To him, that was perfect.

He still couldn’t grasp why Hu Ming refused to curry favor with his parents, choosing sarcasm instead.

But by all means—let Hu Ming keep acting this way.

It’d make kicking him out effortless.

He looked up just as Hu Ming beamed at him, that smile utterly unreadable.

"You’re too kind, Young Master Han. Truly grateful."

"Enough!" Madam Han snapped. "Hu Ming, spit it out plainly—stop beating around the bush!"

In her memory, the old Hu Ming might’ve caused trouble outside, but at home, he’d always obeyed her.

Had raising him all these years meant so little that he’d change this easily?

Madam Han never blamed herself. To her, favoring her biological son Han Shuyi was only natural.

Now, a flicker of resentment toward Hu Ming lingered in her heart—unspoken, buried deep.

After all, he’d been her child for years.

But today, Hu Ming had dragged every hidden thing into the light. How could she accept that?

Hu Ming merely sat down, picked up his chopsticks, and began eating. His expression didn’t shift.

"I’m not being vague. The Khan Family raised me—I know gratitude. Young Master Han forgives past grudges and calls me brother? I’m moved. But Madam Han... when have I ever slandered you? Why assume I’m mocking you?"

He shrugged, genuine confusion on his face.

Han Yunxi kept her head down, torn. One was her brother of many years; the other, her birth mother. She wanted to shield them both.

Han Shuyi stayed silent in his seat, relishing the tension. *Good. Let Hu Ming flip the table. Ruin this family dinner.*

Han Litian watched them quietly, his eyes glinting with unspoken thoughts.

"You—!"

"Madam Han," Hu Ming cut in calmly, "if my presence ruins your appetite, I’ll leave. No need to force yourself to eat beside someone so distasteful."

His words were polite, yet his disregard for her was blatant.

The air crackled between them. Only Hu Ming’s chopsticks moved against the silent table.

Then Han Litian, seated at the head, exhaled softly.

Instantly, all eyes—except Hu Ming’s—locked onto him.

"I knew Hu Ming would be late. I said we’d wait until he returned, eat together, *then* settle our family matters." His gaze hardened as it settled on his wife.

Ever since Shuyi came back, her attention had fixated solely on him.

Hu Ming and Yunxi? Forgotten.

He understood her joy at finding her lost son. He knew she wanted to make up for lost time. But this blatant favoritism would only push the others away.

He’d planned to mend things tonight.

Instead, his wife and Hu Ming were already at each other’s throats.

And Hu Ming... he showed no intention of explaining his lateness.

He used to share everything so openly.

Had he stopped because he believed no explanation would matter?

Han Litian’s mind raced—a businessman’s precision dissecting a father’s failure.

He’d left child-rearing to his wife. Now, faced with this rift, he could only guess at its roots.

The irony tasted bitter.

"So you blame me for not waiting?" Madam Han’s voice trembled. "Do you know how exhausted Shuyi is after school? He prepared this whole dinner without a word, and we waited *three hours*! What if he starved?"

She couldn’t believe her husband was accusing her.

Wasn’t she fighting for this family? Was that a crime too?

Rage flared—then Han Shuyi’s obedient gaze poured oil on the fire.

"I don’t get it! What could possibly take you three hours after school? Speak! If you have a valid reason, I’ll apologize!"

"Foolishness!" Han Litian thundered, his glare sharp enough to cut.

Madam Han froze. Her eyes reddened. Tears slipped down her cheeks.

Seeing her cry, Han Yunxi and Han Shuyi rushed to comfort her.

Hu Ming watched the scene coldly.

He dabbed his mouth with a napkin, straightened his back, and spoke evenly.

"Since Madam Han is so curious—I’ll tell you. But don’t bother apologizing. Everyone knows no one dares demand that of you. Next time, pick a promise you can actually keep."

His sarcasm stung Han Yunxi’s ears. She’d almost scolded him—until his icy gaze silenced her.

Han Litian sighed, weary.

He felt the cracks spreading through his home.

"Madam Han," Hu Ming continued, "every month on the fifteenth, I’m late. Yet you never asked why. So today, I’ll tell you myself: On the fifteenth—today—I go to the orphanage on the outskirts. Because children there need someone to care."

He pushed his chair back and rose, leaning over the table toward her.

The weight of his presence pressed down on everyone.

Han Litian aside—who here had ever asked what Hu Ming did on these days?

This "sincerity" they praised? Just pretty lies woven from empty words.

"And is *this* what you call ‘running wild’?"