CHAPTER 127: THE DNA TEST I

After being around the Xiā family several times, Sīān no longer felt the same strangeness as before. Even though this woman—this body’s mother—looked so uncannily like his real mother and cared for him in nearly the same way, she was, at the same time, very different.

Madam Xiā was a wealthy and refined woman—gentle yet strong, dignified, with an elegance befitting her status.

His real mother, by contrast, had been an ordinary person. Yes, she too was beautiful and graceful, but she had not grown up in a rich household. Their life had been comfortable, but simpler. Of course, she had no understanding of the more complicated aspects of upper-class life.

For instance, although Madam Xiā was a housewife now, in her husband’s and sons’ absence she could still competently run the family business. That alone showed her remarkable capability. She was far from being a shallow, pampered lady.

Sīān admired the strength and sharpness of this family. Even though they doubted whether he was truly their son, they never tried to force him to take a DNA test—or attempt one behind his back.

He didn’t really mind either way. As long as they didn’t push him, he simply wouldn’t bother. To be honest, he was far too lazy to take that step himself.

At this moment, the family was still sitting together after dinner, gathered once again in the living room.

Madam Xiā held Sīān’s hand, but unlike before, she was unusually silent.

When Sīān noticed her hesitation, he couldn’t ignore it. He squeezed her hand in return, met her gaze—those almost identical eyes—and said gently, in a tone softer than his usual:

"Mother, if there’s something you want to say, you can tell me. Don’t hesitate. Am I not like your son?"

Madam Xiā stared at the young man before her, with his long, silky white hair falling across his shoulders and those amber eyes—beautiful, unforgettable.

Her child had always possessed such eyes, breathtaking to behold, brimming with life and strength. Ever since he had been small enough to fit beneath her arm, she had loved gazing into them. Every detail of those eyes, seen or unseen, had been etched into her memory forever. Back then, she had never imagined she would one day lose him.

For a long time, she had blamed her husband, his work, and his loyalty to the country—for it was because of his choices that her beloved child had been sacrificed.

A mother could always distinguish her child, even if he bore an ordinary resemblance to others. And how much more so when he had such unique features?

All she wanted was for Sīān to know he was truly her son. She wanted him to return with her to their home. She had preserved his room all these years, even updating the décor to match the age he should have been.

But she was terrified of his response. Afraid of his rejection, his blame for their failure to protect him, for the years he had been lost.

She couldn’t bear the thought of seeing hatred in the very eyes she loved so deeply, the eyes that had once smiled so sweetly at her. Yet, she also couldn’t stand for him to keep calling her "Mother" without realizing she really was his biological mother.

That was why, once she had been assured of his safety, confusion and fear began warring inside her, leaving her anxious and depressed. It was written all over her face.

Sīān’s words eased her heart somewhat, and she resolved to face him directly.

Though her behavior these past few meetings surely had made Sīān suspicious whenever they spoke of her lost child, he might have assumed he was merely a stand-in for the boy she had lost. That was another reason why she needed to tell him the truth now.

"Sīān, my son, there’s something I must tell you."

She drew a long breath. Conversations around them ceased immediately.

Everyone present clearly understood what was about to unfold. Seeing Madam Xiā’s tension, they realized she had finally decided to confront Sīān with the truth they had all been carrying in their hearts.

It wasn’t that they hadn’t wanted confirmation before, but the last time Sīān had collapsed from a seizure, then countless events had followed, leaving them no chance to speak. His departure for filming on the island had delayed matters further.

Now was truly the right moment—to hear Sīān’s decision, and perhaps finally proceed with a DNA test and settle everything once and for all.

With quiet wisdom, none of them interfered in the exchange between the woman who might be a mother and the boy who might be her son.

Even Zìmíng remained silent, lost in his own thoughts.

Sīān studied Madam Xiā. Perhaps he already guessed what she was about to say. He simply patted her hand reassuringly, his eyes encouraging her to continue.

"Sīān... could you believe... I mean, would you accept—that I’m your mother?"

Her voice trembled. Then, afraid she wasn’t clear enough, she rushed on, nervous and panicked:

"Not the way you call me ’Mother’ now—I know you might not believe me—but you are my son. No, not ’might.’ I’m certain. You are my real son. My lost, beloved child—"

Madam Xiā could no longer hold back her tears. They streamed down her face as she choked out broken words. Yet Sīān still understood fragments:

"I... couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry... My precious boy... You were taken from your mother... I couldn’t find you all this time... I was unworthy..."

Her heart ached even more when she thought of how he had lived. While her twins had studied at elite private schools, dressed in the finest brands, and basked in love, her youngest had grown up abandoned in an orphanage. He had relied on his bicycle just to study, even becoming an actor at an early age just to survive.

Not yet twenty, and already he had tasted the bitterness of life—crawling forward on his own, tending his own wounds, enduring sickness and hardship...

"Mother, it’s all right."

Madam Xiā felt warm arms wrap around her.

Sīān was embracing her. She was deeply moved. Rationally, he knew she wasn’t the same as his real mother, but when he saw her suffering, saw her tears, he couldn’t help but feel she was indeed his mother. He didn’t want her to be sad, not even a little.

He forced back his own tears—the glassy amber eyes now rimmed red with pain—and spoke hoarsely, yet with steady tenderness:

"Mother, it’s all right. Your son is fine, living well. I know my mother never abandoned me. I know she loves me too much to bear my suffering. And I... I can’t bear to see your tears. Please, Mother—don’t cry."

His voice dripped with affection. Every word came from the depths of his heart.

And that was the problem.

When Madam Xiā heard his words—when she realized he did not hate her but instead cherished her—her fears dissolved. Joy filled her heart. She was about to ask him to take the DNA test.

But then she heard his heavy breathing, felt his heart pounding violently against her. It didn’t sound normal—it sounded as though it might burst.

Fear jolted through her. She lifted her head from his chest and froze.

"Sīān!" she cried in terror.

A seizure.

He was on the verge of another seizure.

Because his pajamas were black, his trembling wasn’t obvious, but sweat drenched his face. His jaw clenched tight, his expression twisted in agony.

And indeed, he was suffering.

Sīān had always known his mental state was unstable.

Who could remain sound after years of surviving in an apocalypse? With everything he had endured, the fact that he still had sanity left was a miracle in itself.

"Sīān, don’t scare me—breathe, breathe."

"I’ll call the doctor immediately!"

Both Lán Qíshēng and Wéilián sprang up at once, while Father Xiā and Zìmíng rushed over as well.

Sīān forced out weakly, "It’s fine... I’m fine. Don’t call anyone."

He wasn’t lying.

Unlike last time, this time he was able to control his emotions. He had only been overwhelmed by Madam Xiā’s tears, reminded too much of his true mother. That was why he nearly collapsed again, but he managed to rein himself in.

"How can you say you’re fine? You’re clearly not!" Lán Qíshēng snapped.

Madam Xiā, still holding him tightly, agreed, "Call the doctor—no, we’ll take you to the hospital right now!"

"Mother, really—I’m fine. I just... I only want you to be happy. I don’t want to see tears on your face. I lost control for a moment. There’s no need to make such a fuss."

Then Sīān met Madam Xiā’s eyes and said quietly:

"Mother... let’s do the DNA test."

---

Sīān did not care about the matter itself, nor about the results of the DNA test.

Even if his deduction turned out to be wrong and he was not truly a child of this family, it did not concern him.

What mattered was that he could not bear to see this woman—whom he had come to regard as his second mother—sinking into turmoil, anxiety, and tangled worries.

That was why he made his request: not for his own sake, but to bring her peace of mind.

Whatever the outcome, at the very least, Madam Xiā would no longer remain troubled and sorrowful over it.