Transmigration; Married to My Ex-Fiancé's Uncle-Chapter 386; Lin Yueling

She couldn’t understand humans sometimes. Couldn’t fathom the mindset that prioritized control over contentment, that chose cruelty when kindness was equally available. Her mermaid nature perhaps made such calculations even more foreign, merfolk understood territorial disputes and resource conflicts, but the elaborate social warfare humans engaged in seemed unnecessarily complicated and self-defeating.

Lin Feng had everything a person could reasonably want. Wealth, status, a healthy daughter, a home, and business success. And yet he’d chosen to imprison her mother, steal her inheritance, and build his life on cruelty and theft. For what? Slightly more wealth than he already possessed? Control for the sake of control itself?

The logic escaped her. But the consequences didn’t. Lin Feng was currently learning exactly what powerlessness felt like, and Shuyin felt no guilt about orchestrating that education.

She finished drying her hair and was considering whether to go down or stay in the bedroom with her exhausted body.

She sat down on the bed lazily watching the curtains sway.

---

At the hospital, in a private recovery room on the third floor, Lin Yueling had finally emerged from the fog of anesthesia and exhaustion that had claimed her after the emergency cesarean section. Her awareness returned slowly, consciousness building in layers, first just sensation, then discomfort, then the gradual recognition of where she was and what had happened.

The surgery. The baby. Her son was being pulled from her body while she’d been barely conscious, aware enough to hear him cry but not coherent enough to hold him or see him clearly.

Her eyes opened fully, adjusting to the dim light of the room. She was alone except for two nurses who’d been monitoring her vitals. No family members present. No father or mother hovering anxiously. No Lu family members but then, Lu Zeyan couldn’t be here, could he? Lu Zeyan was brain-damaged, reduced to childlike capacity, unable to understand that he’d become a father.

But what about his parents? The little baby’s grandparents? Shouldn’t they be here?

"My baby," she said, her voice hoarse and rough from intubation and hours of unconsciousness. "I want to see my baby."

The words came out barely above a whisper, but both nurses heard them clearly. They exchanged a glance that Lin Yueling was too disoriented to interpret properly.

"You’re awake," the senior nurse said, approaching the bed with professional warmth. "That’s good. How are you feeling? Any pain? Discomfort?"

"My baby," Lin Yueling repeated, ignoring the question about her own condition. She tried to sit up, but her body refused to cooperate fully. Weakness pervaded every muscle, the aftermath of major surgery and blood loss, and the trauma her body had endured. "Where is my baby? I want to see him. I want to hold him."

The nurses exchanged another glance, this one heavier with uncertainty and something that looked like dread.

"Miss Lin," the junior nurse began carefully, "you need to rest. You’ve been through a very difficult surgery. Your body needs time to recover before...."

"I don’t care about my body," Lin Yueling interrupted, desperation creeping into her hoarse voice. "I want my son. Where is he? Why isn’t he here? Babies are supposed to stay near their mothers. Why haven’t you brought him to me?"

She managed to push herself up slightly despite the weakness, her movements making various monitors beep in alarm. Pain lanced through her abdomen where the surgical incision was still fresh, but she ignored it. Nothing mattered except seeing her child, confirming with her own eyes that he was real, that he was safe, that the heir she’d suffered to bring into the world actually existed.

The senior nurse gently but firmly pressed Lin Yueling’s shoulders back against the pillows. "Please, Miss Lin, you’ll tear your stitches. You need to stay still."

"Then bring me my baby," Lin Yueling said, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "Please. I’ve been unconscious for... how long? Hours? A day? I don’t even know. But I need to see him. I need to know he’s all right. Is he in the nursery? Is something wrong with him? Tell me what’s happening."

The nurses looked at each other again, a silent conversation happening in glances and micro-expressions. Should they tell her now? Should they wait until she was more stable, until family members could be present to provide support? Whose responsibility was it to break the news of this devastating? Who would take the blame when the truth destroyed whatever fragile stability she’d managed to achieve?

"Miss Lin," the senior nurse said slowly, choosing her words with obvious care, "there have been some... complications. Regarding your son."

Lin Yueling went very still, all color draining from her already pale face. "Complications? What kind of complications? Is he sick? Was there something wrong that the doctors didn’t detect before birth? Is he in intensive care? Tell me what’s happening to my baby."

"He’s not in intensive care," the junior nurse said quietly.

"Then where is he?" Lin Yueling’s voice rose despite her weakness, desperation turning to panic. "Where is my son? Why won’t anyone tell me where my baby is?"

The senior nurse drew in a deep breath, clearly steeling herself for what came next. There was no good way to say this. No gentle phrasing that would soften the blow. She’d been a nurse for twenty years, had delivered terrible news to countless patients, but this situation defied every protocol she’d ever learned.

"Miss Lin, I’m very sorry, but your son is... missing."

The word hung in the air like poison, incomprehensible in its implications.

"Missing?" Lin Yueling repeated the word as if it belonged to a foreign language she didn’t speak. "What do you mean by missing? Babies don’t go missing from hospitals. They have security. Identification bands. Locked nurseries. How can he be missing?"

"We don’t know," the nurse admitted, her professional composure cracking slightly under the weight of having to explain the unexplainable. "After your surgery, your son was placed in the nursery as standard procedure. He was alive, breathing normally, showing all healthy vital signs. But when staff checked on him several hours later, he was... gone. The security footage shows something that doesn’t make sense, that we can’t explain rationally."