"Too Far Gone"
"You're all grown-ups now, how could you still be so careless?" In the children's hospital, the doctor looked at the dejected family of three sitting in a row. The reprimand on the tip of her tongue softened when she saw their downcast expressions.
It was rare to see such a good-looking family—genes truly were powerful.
"It's nothing serious. You can go home after the IV drip." Noticing the collars around the children's necks, the doctor frowned. "Where's their father? Are you taking care of both alone?"
At the mention of "father," the two little ones receiving the IV flinched, their eyes dimming as they glanced uncertainly at their aunt.
Though still young, they had always known they were different from other kids—they didn’t have parents. That was why they never dared to act too spoiled around their aunt.
Once, they had asked about finding their parents, but their aunt had only snapped, "You don’t have parents. They’re dead! No crying, no tantrums. If you don’t behave, I won’t want you either."
From then on, the two little ones never brought it up again, and even now, the word "parents" sent a shiver down their spines.
Le Qing noticed their reaction. She leaned down to tuck them in and smiled. "Our family situation is a bit special."
Single mothers were common these days, so the doctor didn’t press further. "I’ll keep an eye on them. Go get their medicine first."
"Thank you."
Straightening up, Le Qing exhaled softly. Before leaving, she paused at the sight of the children’s pitiful expressions and reassured them in a gentle voice, "I’ll be back soon. Don’t be scared."
Sick children were already fragile, especially after the mention of parents. They were terrified their aunt might leave, yet her voice inexplicably calmed them.
They didn’t understand why they trusted her so much now.
Only after the children responded did Le Qing step out into the hallway. Pressing a hand to her stomach, she sighed.
Logically, her cooking skills should have been decent—where had she gone wrong?
The kids had been so eager to eat that they stuffed too much into their mouths, leading to severe vomiting. She’d rushed them to the hospital immediately.
She hadn’t eaten much herself, but her stomach was also unsettled. While she didn’t need an IV, she still needed to pick up some medicine.
Unbeknownst to her, after she left, the doctor sat down sternly in front of the children. "Can I ask you a few questions?"
Trusting the doctor, they nodded obediently.
"What’s this?" The doctor pointed at the collars around their necks.
"These are mini-cams," the older brother explained, taking on the role of spokesperson. "For recording videos."
Just as she suspected.
The doctor’s expression darkened. "Did your mom put these on you?"
Mom?
The children shook their heads in unison. "Auntie did."
Auntie?
These days, unscrupulous influencers would do anything for views. With how adorable these kids were, their so-called aunt might be exploiting them—forcing them to wear cameras even while sick.
What if she’d deliberately fed them spoiled cake to create some kind of persona? Kids wouldn’t understand video editing; only an adult could manipulate footage.
"What else does your aunt make you do?"
The two thought hard but couldn’t recall much. Little Le Jia, quicker on the uptake, piped up, "Drink milk."
"Milk?"
"Ads make money."
The doctor shot to her feet, furious.
"Your aunt, huh?" she seethed. "Where is she? Why hasn’t she informed your guardians about this?"
Just then, Le Qing returned with the medicine, bewildered. "You wanted to see me?"
The doctor: "..."
Le Qing: "?"
An awkward silence settled over the room.
"You’re their aunt?"
"Yes."
"You made the cake they ate, and you forced them to drink milk for ads." The doctor glared, convinced that the prettier the face, the crueler the heart. "They’re just children! How could you do this to them? Do you realize the psychological damage you’re causing? This is child abuse—you could be sued!"
"Wait… what?"
Le Qing was stunned.
Caught off guard by the accusation and still feeling queasy, she hadn’t even closed the door behind her.
Passersby, drawn by the commotion, lingered to gawk and whisper.
"Look at those poor kids—driven to the hospital by her cruelty!"
"She’s so young but already this wicked."
"Film her! Expose her!"
Le Qing felt the weight of their judgment but couldn’t refute it.
After all, she had caused this mess.
So this was the difference between worlds—in this novel’s setting, a failed cake could land her in court?
Still, she wasn’t one to shirk responsibility. After a pause, she frowned slightly. "If they only had two bites, how severe would the penalty be?"
Thinking she ought to plead for leniency, she added, "I ate some too. Does that reduce the sentence?"
"..." The doctor scoffed in disbelief. "You think this is a joke? And you’re still recording them now?"
The sharp reprimand cleared Le Qing’s foggy mind. She rubbed her stomach and smiled wryly.
[Being sick really dulls the brain.]
"There must be a misunderstanding." She stepped further into the room, noticing the onlookers filming her but choosing not to shut the door.
In the age of social media, a single edited clip could ruin her. Better to let everyone see the truth—it might serve as future protection.
"Could you explain what exactly you mean by 'abuse'?"
The doctor pointed at the cameras. "Aren’t you forcing these kids to eat your food for content and using them to score ad deals? Why else would they end up like this? They’re clearly underdeveloped for their age—signs of long-term malnutrition!"
Otherwise, their stomachs wouldn’t be so weak that a little bad food sent them straight to the IV.
Finally understanding, Le Qing set the medicine down by the beds and spoke calmly. "The cake was my mistake. I wanted to learn baking for them but messed up. It looked fine, so I carelessly let them eat it."
"As for ads, brands approached them first. I only agreed after they showed interest and consented. And their health—I cook balanced meals daily to help them recover. So I think you’ve misunderstood. I’d never abuse them."
She briefly glossed over why the two children were malnourished.
That wasn’t her doing, and she certainly wasn’t going to volunteer a confession.
Meanwhile, the two little ones, who had been completely out of the loop, finally understood why the doctor had suddenly scolded their aunt.
Little Le Jia anxiously tried to stand up. "Auntie didn’t bully us!"
"Then what’s with the video?" the doctor asked.
"Just a little hobby of theirs," Le Qing walked over and gently pressed her hand on her brother’s shoulder to keep him seated. "I didn’t want them glued to their phones, worried they’d pick up bad habits from random videos online, so I got them small cameras to film themselves instead. Today was just an accident—I’m still new at this and forgot to take them off."
The doctor turned to the children. "Is that true?"
Their little heads bobbed up and down like eager nodding dolls.
Though the explanation was a bit wordy, it made sense. One thing was clear: their aunt would never hurt them.
Only then did the doctor relax. Then, as if remembering something, she stepped closer to Le Qing and lowered her voice. "You’re their aunt… so where’s their mother?"
"I’ll take care of them in her place," Le Qing replied with a faint smile.
She didn’t spell it out, but the doctor understood—their parents were no longer around.
"No wonder you’re still figuring things out," the doctor sighed, waving a hand. "It’s tough raising two kids so young. Later, I’ll go over some basics to make it easier for you."
Thankfully, the children were well-behaved, sparing her a lot of trouble.
Compared to blindly following parenting guides, Le Qing was more than happy to take notes from a professional. She hunched over her phone, diligently jotting down every childcare tip in her memo app.
The doctor glanced over and noticed the long list of entries—things like "cultivating study habits," "dietary needs," "hobbies and interests," and even a highlighted note about snack preferences and learning to bake cakes.
She was really trying her best.
"I’m sorry about earlier," the doctor said. "I jumped to conclusions and caused you trouble."
"It’s fine, I understand," Le Qing replied, her eyes curving slightly. "You’ve helped me a lot, and honestly, this might not even count as trouble."
"Let’s exchange contacts. I’m Pei Yu," the doctor offered. "Raising kids is full of challenges, and you can’t keep running to the hospital. If you ever have questions, just message me."
Now that the misunderstanding was cleared, she found herself liking this woman.
There was something calming about her—a rare steadiness. Even in that earlier confrontation, she hadn’t reacted much, almost adorably detached. And when she did respond, it was methodical, without a trace of panic.
Pei Yu added, "And if you ever need anything, you can reach out too."
Le Qing paused almost imperceptibly before lowering her gaze and adding Pei Yu on WeChat.
The reaction didn’t escape Pei Yu’s notice. As a doctor, she’d studied enough psychology to recognize that Le Qing’s emotional stability bordered on unnatural.
Most people couldn’t suppress their emotions completely—micro-expressions, subtle gestures, they all gave it away. Even Pei Yu herself had gotten worked up hearing the kids’ story earlier.
But Le Qing was different. She seemed detached, as if she couldn’t fully immerse herself in others’ emotions—like her empathy was stunted.
Of course, this was just Pei Yu’s surface-level observation. The truth might be more complicated.
She’d added Le Qing partly because she seemed like good company, but also because… someone with her temperament might not be the best fit for raising children.
She couldn’t say that outright, but she trusted Le Qing would read between the lines. If she needed help, she’d ask.
Just as she was thinking this, Le Qing’s calm voice cut in. "There is something I’d like to ask."
"What is it?"
"Do you know why my cakes keep failing? I followed the recipes exactly."
Pei Yu blinked, then nearly laughed at the genuine frustration on Le Qing’s face. It was the same look she’d had earlier—part guilty, part sheepish—like a young girl forced to act mature before she was ready.
"You’ve come to the right person," Pei Yu said. "Plenty of tutorials online, but not many can replicate them perfectly. After my shift, I can teach you how to make healthy, tasty snacks for the kids."
Le Qing’s eyes brightened slightly.
She really needed this.
"Stay with the kids for now. When the IV’s done, just press the call button for the nurse."
"Thank you."
Once Pei Yu left, Le Qing sat down in the chair beside the hospital bed.
The children, small and frail, had grown clingy after falling ill. Little Le'an was especially shy outside the house, so her brother insisted on sharing the bed with her. Now they huddled together, watching their aunt intently.
Realizing she owed them an apology, Le Qing straightened up despite her discomfort. "I messed up today. I’ll be more careful about what I feed you from now on."
"It’s my fault," Little Le'an piped up from behind her brother. "An’an shouldn’t have asked for cake."
"Wanting cake isn’t wrong," Le Qing leaned back slightly, resting a hand on her stomach. "You should learn to express your feelings, not blame yourselves."
The kids just blinked, confused.
Luckily, Le Qing had started picking up on their cues. She rephrased: "If you’re unhappy, scared, or upset, say so. Want cake? Tell me. Afraid of needles? Tell me. Don’t just cling to each other like this."
She pointed at the tiny gap between them. "You’re both equal. Right now, you’re little—you need to protect each other, understand?"
They stared blankly, giving Le Qing a moment to rest—until Little Le'an suddenly asked, "What about Auntie?"
"Hm?"
The little girl tilted her head. "Auntie says An’an and Gege should ‘spress, but Auntie doesn’t."
"What doesn’t she do?"
"Auntie doesn’t ‘spress," Little Le'an’s memory only held onto the last word. "Auntie never says when she’s ouchie."
This time, her brother did bolt upright. "You’re hurt?!"
Le Qing’s eyes widened, and she quickly steadied his arm to keep the IV line safe.
How did they know?
"I’m fine," she said, genuinely baffled.
She was uncomfortable, but it wasn’t pain.
Over the years, Le Qing had grown accustomed to enduring pain and hardship on her own. Compared to her past struggles, this current discomfort was nothing.
She wasn’t the type to seek out suffering—she could tough it out, which was why she’d decided to take medicine once she got home.
But before she could finish speaking, two little faces suddenly leaned in, studying her intently.
Especially Little Le’an.
This was the first time Le Qing had looked into the children’s eyes so closely. She’d always known they’d inherited their parents’ exceptional genes, making them so adorable that even strangers online would instantly adore them.
Yet she hadn’t expected their gaze to be so overwhelming.
Their eyes were innocent and beautiful, but upon closer inspection, there was an almost startling liveliness to them—along with a wisdom and gentleness that seemed far beyond their years.
It made Le Qing instinctively want to look away, but there was no escape.
The two little ones had her firmly trapped.
She opened her mouth to speak, but Little Le Jia beat her to it: “Pretty.”
“…”
“?”
“Brother!” Little Le’an glared at him. “Auntie is sick right now. She looks just like I did that day—all pale.”
The siblings scrutinized their aunt’s face with the same intensity they applied to their studies, quickly spotting the differences from her usual self.
“The picture book says,” Little Le Jia declared, “this means you’re so sick you might die.”
Le Qing: “…Stop.”
If they kept this up, she really would die.
“I’m fine. I’ll take medicine when we get back.”
“No.” Little Le Jia shook his head sternly. “This is a hospital. You have to listen to the doctor. Be good.”
“I—”
“Auntie, let’s learn together,” Little Le’an said, snuggling up to her. “If it hurts, you have to say so. I’ll blow on it to make it better.”
She’d just done the same for her brother’s injection site.
Before Le Qing could refuse, Little Le Jia was already on his tiptoes, pressing the nurse call button.
The nurse who’d given them their shots had taught them—press this, and help would come!
In all her years, Le Qing had never been so thoroughly managed by two children who barely reached her waist.
The nurse arrived promptly. “What’s wrong?”
Two tiny fingers pointed at Le Qing. “Auntie hurts. Give her a shot, please.”
The nurse froze. If she recalled correctly, this was a children’s hospital, and this adult was here with kids, right?
“I’m sorry, but we—”
Le Qing didn’t even get a chance to explain. The normally shy children were now unstoppable. Little Le’an patted her aunt’s hand with grave concern. “Auntie taught us, but she’s not following the rules. That’s not good.”
Le Qing, who’d intended to set an example: “…Fine.”
“Then tell the nurse where it hurts.”
Their ability to mimic was terrifying—they guided her through the process exactly as they’d been taught earlier.
Under their “coercion,” Le Qing found herself back in the doctor’s office, this time for an even longer visit than the children’s.
When she returned, Pei Yu followed, watching with amusement as the nurse prepared Le Qing’s IV. “Your family’s mutual supervision system is quite innovative,” she teased.
Le Qing stayed silent, but her ears burned against her will.
She had no defense against this.
As the needle approached, two small hands—each a different temperature—covered her eyes.
The children, using their unbandaged hands, shielded her from the sight.
“No hurt, no hurt. Be brave, Auntie.”
They’d mastered every comforting phrase meant for scared little patients.
“Make a fist,” the nurse reminded.
Le Qing clenched her slightly trembling hand, forcing down the irrational panic.
She barely felt the sting—the children pampered her thoroughly, blowing on her bandaged hand afterward like it was their sacred duty.
They feared shots, so naturally, they’d protect their aunt from the same fear.
Not stopping there, they cleared space on the bed, insisting she lie down while they squeezed into the far corner, radiating pride.
Little Le’an puffed out her chest. “Auntie, we can protect you too.”
“Now I really believe you didn’t mistreat them,” Pei Yu said, ushering the kids away. “But you can’t share a bed—it’s too crowded. Go to the other one, okay?”
Only the doctor’s authority made them comply. “Auntie, say if it hurts! I’ll ring the bell!” Little Le’an promised.
Le Qing, dizzier now than from the pain, nodded blankly.
So the scene settled: one dazed adult sighing on the bed, two children huddled together sighing over their aunt’s stubbornness.
Pei Yu chuckled before sitting beside Le Qing, lowering her voice. “Did you have poor eating habits before too?”
After a pause, Le Qing shook her head.
The original owner wasn’t one to deny herself—with all that money spent on indulgence, how could her diet have been bad?
“An adult’s stomach should handle more than a child’s,” Pei Yu said seriously. “You ate less cake than them, shared their meals—I checked the menu you mentioned earlier. Nothing was off. These symptoms suggest long-term unhealthy eating.”
Le Qing stiffened.
Had the original owner really wrecked her stomach too?
That wasn’t in the story she’d read.
“Your family needs careful dietary management,” Pei Yu added. “Especially you—your case is worse than the kids’. All three of you are underweight. You can’t care for them if you neglect yourself.”
Once Pei Yu left, Le Qing stared blankly at the ceiling.
She knew her own stomach was weak—childhood hunger, sketchy school meals—by the time she could afford proper food, her body no longer absorbed nutrients well.
Ironically, it made her more photogenic.
Since crossing over, she’d kept her old habits without issue… so why would the original owner share this problem?
Meanwhile, in other rooms, visitors rewatched videos of the earlier spectacle.
“Gotta admit, that mom’s gorgeous,” a man mused, flipping through clips. “No wonder she’s an influencer.”
His wife, standing beside him, grew irritated at his expression. "So what if she's pretty? It's probably just a tactic to gain views. With self-media booming these days, everyone wants a piece of the pie. They clearly know how to ride the social media trends—this one’s a goldmine for them."
The man holding his phone seemed struck by an idea and suddenly looked up. "If it's a trend, why can't we post it too? If they can go viral, why can't we?"
His wife rolled her eyes. "Post what? Didn’t you see the later part where she was cleared of blame?"
"So what?" The man shrugged. "We’ll just say we left halfway and missed the rest. How’s that our fault? Besides, if we only post the first half with the conflict, it’ll get even more attention."
"The internet has no memory. Once we grab some followers, people will forget about it soon enough. By then, our account will have grown."
"But—"
"But what?" he snapped. "You just had a baby, and we’ve got no income right now. This is a golden opportunity—why waste it? Do you even know how much it costs to raise a kid?"
With that, they were fully aligned. The man quickly edited out the latter half of the video and uploaded only the clip showing the two children lying pitifully on hospital beds with IV drips, while the doctor scolded their parents.
Admittedly, videos tied to trending topics spread like wildfire.
He even added keywords like "high-value looks," and soon, viewers flooded in.
[Those two kids look familiar—aren’t they the storytelling siblings who went viral a while back?]
[So the parent who never showed their face before looks like this?]
[Suddenly it makes sense why the siblings are so good-looking. With genes like that, who wouldn’t be?]
[Wake up, the real issue here is child abuse. Were all those earlier videos forced by her?]
[If that’s true, it’s disgusting.]
[Oh, screw your baseless accusations! You people twisting half the story are the real disgusting ones. One clip and suddenly you’re all internet detectives? Are you their mom or dad? Think you’ve got it all figured out?]
[Who’s this hothead in the top comment? Do you know them?]
[Uh… that’s Lin Shengxi, the young master of the Lin family. Dude lives on the internet—how do you not know him?]
[Since when does Young Master Lin watch parenting content? Isn’t he only into hot influencers?]
[Maybe he’s here because the mom’s good-looking.]
Lin Shengxi was sitting in the chairman’s office of Jiang Corporation, furiously typing replies, his face red with rage as he stood up and kicked his chair. "You worthless trolls, you better have your next life planned out before spreading lies about me!"
"Lin Shengxi."
"Hold on a sec!"
Three seconds later, Lin Shengxi froze, slowly raising his head to meet a pair of indifferent eyes. Realizing he wasn’t at home, he immediately sat back down.
For some reason, Jiang Suizhi intimidated him. The heat in his face cooled as he muttered, "Sorry, Suizhi. Got carried away. Some idiots were bullying someone online."
He was always talkative, especially after being stifled around Jiang Suizhi for so long. "Remember those two kids I told you about—the ones that made me wanna be a better person? I used to dislike that woman, but—"
Jiang Suizhi had zero interest in his sudden paternal instincts and raised a hand to cut him off. "This isn’t the place for your phone battles."
He adjusted his glasses. "What about the investigation?"
Future arrogant Lin Shengxi: This damn pride of mine.
