Chapter 1: Twins

The airport.

A mother and son’s fingers flew across their keyboards, moving so fast they were almost a blur, drawing frequent stares from those around them.

Amanda Vance acted as if she hadn’t seen a thing, the corners of her mouth slowly curving into a smile. A moment later, she stopped, looked up at the person across from her, and said, "Jean, your speed is getting faster and faster."

Across from her sat a little boy of about four or five, dressed in overalls. His fair little face still held the lingering roundness of baby fat, but his eyes showed a calm and composure far beyond his years. His lips were pressed into a serious line, only softening with warmth when he looked at Amanda Vance. He spoke in a gentle voice, "Mom, it wasn’t difficult at all. It was very simple."

Amanda Vance reached out and ruffled his hair. "Simple? It only seemed simple because my Jean is so smart."

"Mom." Jean Vance gave her a helpless look. He wanted to fix the hair she had just messed up, but without a mirror, he couldn’t tell if he’d succeeded. So, he stood up and said, "Mom, I’m going to the restroom."

Amanda Vance watched her son, a mischievous glint in her eye. "It looks better like that. When it’s too neat, you look like a little old man."

Jean Vance pressed his lips together. "It’s uncomfortable."

The thought of his hair being messy made him antsy.

He had no idea where this obsessive compulsion came from.

Amanda Vance clicked her tongue. Helpless, she nodded. "Alright, go on then. Do you need me to come with you?"

"No, I can go by myself."

"Okay."

Jean had always been very self-sufficient, so there was nothing to worry about.

After watching her son go into the restroom, she looked away. Just then, several men in black entered. The one in the lead had a thick beard, bulging muscles, and a fierce gaze. He looked like a trained fighter.

They scanned the area, seemingly looking for someone. Their search was meticulous; they even checked under the tables and chairs.

As they passed Amanda Vance, she heard the bearded man ask, "Have you found the young master?"

His companion shook his head, and the man’s face immediately fell, looking almost comical. Just then, his phone rang. Seeing the caller ID, his hand trembled as he shakily answered.

A deep, cold voice came from the other end, its chill palpable even through the phone. Amanda Vance glanced at the phone, idly tapping her chin. ’His voice is actually quite nice,’ she thought.

"Have you found him?"

The bearded man’s voice trembled when he said, "No."

There was a long silence from the other end. Sweat beaded on the man’s forehead before he finally heard the voice, thick with suppressed anger, say, "Keep searching."

"Yes, sir."

They quickly finished searching the area, looked at each other, and shook their heads, their expressions grim. "Let’s go check somewhere else."

"Right."

They came and went in a hurry. The people around them sized them up for a moment, exchanged a few words after they left, and then quickly moved on to other topics.

Amanda Vance looked away as well. She sipped her coffee leisurely while looking at the file on the Vance Family on her laptop. She sneered. ’And here I thought they’d get something big for selling out their own daughter. Turns out it’s just some rinky-dink little company that’ll never amount to anything.’

’Five years, and that father of mine still hasn’t improved one bit.’

In the restroom, Jean Vance was fixing his hair in the mirror when a little boy suddenly ran in, wearing the exact same outfit as him. He couldn’t help but stare. The outfit he was wearing had been designed by his mother. She had only made two sets. He was wearing one, and the other was supposed to be a display piece in her shop. But someone had insisted on buying it, offering a high price—enough money to buy a truckload of clothes. His mom had even told him she wondered what sucker had bought it.

’So it was him.’

The little boy shielded his face with his hands, looking furtive. His eyes darted around, as if he were hiding a bellyful of bad ideas. One look and you could tell he was trouble.

He was carrying a little yellow duck backpack. He must have eaten something, because he’d touched the bag without wiping his hands, leaving a small, greasy handprint on it.

Jean Vance glanced at it and took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to make the boy wash his backpack. ’Mom says being clean is a personal matter,’ he reminded himself. ’You can’t force it on others, especially not strangers.’

He looked down at his own hands. For some reason, they now felt greasy to him too. With a frown of barely suppressed disgust, he washed them again.

The little boy didn’t notice him. His eyes widened at something he saw, and he darted into a toilet stall—the one at the very end. The door snapped shut, and he locked it from the inside.

After washing his hands twice, the greasy feeling was finally gone. Jean Vance let out a sigh of relief. He was about to leave, but after just two steps, someone suddenly scooped him up. The person was panting heavily as he walked, his face full of the kind of relief one feels after a near-death experience. "Young Master, we finally found you."

Jean Vance struggled a bit, his voice turning cold. "Put me down. I’m not your young master."

The bearded man was unfazed, looking at him helplessly. "Young Master, you’ve said that many times already. Alright now, don’t throw a tantrum. The master is waiting for you."

As he spoke, he quickened his pace, not even giving Jean Vance a chance to reply, and carried him directly through the VIP channel and onto a private jet.

Once inside, Jean Vance’s feet were finally on solid ground again.

His little face was cold as he was about to speak, but he suddenly saw a man in a suit sitting in a chair. The man was noble and aloof, with refined features. His lips were pressed into a thin, cool line, and his deep eyes showed no ripple of emotion. He exuded the aura of a superior being who looked down on the world.

’He’s very powerful.’

Realizing this, Jean Vance immediately became guarded. He warily scanned his surroundings. ’Who is he? Where are they taking me?’

Seeing his son looking at him like a stranger, with a hint of hostility, Samuel Ford’s brow furrowed slightly. He spoke in a cold voice, "Haven’t you made enough of a scene?"

Jean Vance was taken aback and asked instinctively, "What?"

Impatient, Samuel Ford pinched the bridge of his nose and explained with forced patience, "I’ve told you many times, I’m not going to marry anyone else, and I’m not getting you a stepmother. Your grandmother arranged that last blind date. I didn’t know about it, and even if I had, I wouldn’t have gone. You can rest assured."

Jean Vance didn’t respond, analyzing the information he had just received.

’This man doesn’t seem like a kidnapper, so he was looking for his son? The bodyguards might have mistaken me for him, but no father would mistake his own son. If he did, there’s only one possibility.’

’I look exactly like his son.’

’If that’s the case...’

Jean Vance’s eyes narrowed as he studied the man before him. He was probably the most handsome man he had ever seen. He could vaguely see a trace of his own features in the man’s face. Most importantly, he was powerful.

’At least for now, I’m no match for him. The chance of escaping from his grasp is infinitesimal.’

With this thought, he gave up struggling, found a seat for himself, fastened his seatbelt, leaned back, and closed his eyes.

’If I’m not mistaken, this man is very likely my father, whom I’ve never met.’

’I’ll just have to see what kind of man he is... daring to abandon my mom like that.’

Seeing him act this way, Samuel Ford thought his son had finally relented. His expression softened slightly, and he loosened his tie.

Behind the door of the rearmost stall, Felix Ford was pinching his nose with toilet paper, his little face red from holding his breath. His legs were numb from squatting for so long. Hearing no sound from outside, he carefully opened the door a crack, peeked out, and only came out after confirming no one was there.

After taking a few steps, he turned back, went to the stall next to his, and knocked twice. Unable to hold it in any longer, he said, "Mister, you should really get your stomach checked!"

’How can anyone’s poop smell that bad?!’

The person inside cursed under their breath, and Felix immediately turned tail and ran.

Once outside, he peeked around. Not seeing his father, he finally walked out, relieved.

He had only taken a couple of steps when someone suddenly grabbed him by the collar. A voice came from above him. "Jean, where are you going?"

He turned around in a daze and came face-to-face with a beautiful woman. He murmured, "Mom?"