A heretical cultivator in Bureau 749, I'm the fiercest at pulling out tendons and skinning peop

Zhao Ya waved her hand wildly in the air a few times, as if trying to grab something, but her fingers were empty, and she didn't grab anything.

Her chest heaved violently a few times, and then, as if suddenly remembering something, Zhao Ya abruptly lowered her head and turned her gaze back to her husband, whom she had knocked into the ground.

She reached out, grabbed Wang Gang by the collar, and pulled him out of the crater like a radish.

Wang Gang was lifted into the air by her, her collar choking him so tightly that his eyes rolled back.

Dust and dirt fell from his body like snowflakes, covering his hair, face, and shoulders, making him look quite disheveled.

Zhao Ya pulled his face close to hers, staring intently at Wang Gang with an almost frantic urgency and eagerness.

"That rascal from Bureau 749, that young man, is he him?"

"Is he my son?"

Her voice trembled, a tremor that carried both a cautious anticipation and a fear of hearing a negative answer.

Wang Gang was grabbed by the collar and suspended in mid-air with his feet off the ground; the position was extremely uncomfortable.

Wang Gang shook his head.

"I don't know either."

"Logically speaking, with a child destined to be sick and whose life force was almost completely drained, that child shouldn't have survived. It's already a miracle he lived past his first month. Perhaps, it's just because he looks like him."

Wang Gang was telling the truth.

When they extracted the child's innate essence, the child was barely clinging to life.

His breath was as faint as a silkworm's thread, as if it would break with a gust of wind. His skin was so pale it was almost transparent, and you could clearly see the bluish-purple veins underneath.

In that situation, the child wouldn't survive more than three days.

Later, they sent someone to abandon the child, to a great distance, because they feared that the calamity within the sick child would erupt after his death.

How could a child like that have survived? How could he have grown up to be such a powerful cultivator?

This is illogical.

But how do you explain that identical face?

Wang Gang wasn't really sure himself.

Zhao Ya did not answer.

She simply and silently released her grip on Wang Gang's collar.

Wang Gang's body plummeted downwards. As soon as his feet touched the ground, before he could even regain his footing, he saw Zhao Ya casually slap him across the chest.

Wang Gang felt a tightness in his chest, followed by a tremendous force. He was thrown backward as if he had been hit by a speeding train.

"Clang—Boom—!"

His body crashed through a living room wall, shattering bricks, sending dust flying and smoke billowing everywhere.

Wang Gang was embedded in the rubble, covered in dust and dirt, and it took him a long time to recover.

Zhao Ya didn't even glance at him.

She stood there, head down, hands trembling slightly at her sides.

He kept muttering something to himself, his voice very soft, as if he were talking to himself, or as if he was trying to convince himself.

"No, no, no..."

"That's my son, that must be my son."

Her voice grew firmer and more resolute, as if she were encouraging herself.

"I'm going to find him! I'm going to find him!"

As Zhao Ya spoke, she turned to walk out.

His steps were hurried and unsteady, almost tripping over the broken bricks on the ground.

But after taking only two steps, he stopped.

Zhao Ya suddenly realized a problem: even if she found it, what should she say?

"Hello, I am your mother, the mother who abandoned you nineteen years ago?"

Or is it, "I'm sorry, we drained your life force back then to feed your younger brother, and then we abandoned you. Now I'm here to acknowledge you"?

Or perhaps it's something like, "Son, come home with Mom, Mom will make it up to you"?

Compensation? How will it be compensated? What will be used to compensate?

Can nineteen years make up for it? Can the innate essence that was taken away be compensated for?

She was absent from his life for a full nineteen years.

She didn't know what he liked to eat, what color clothes he liked to wear, what his personality was like, what he had been through, or how he grew up.

How can a child who has been abandoned and stripped of their essence grow up to be this big?

That would require so much suffering.

Zhao Ya dared not think about it anymore.

She was afraid that if she thought about it, she would completely break down.

While they were enjoying a life of luxury and extravagance in their grand villa, her child might have been rummaging through a garbage dump for leftovers.

While they cheered and celebrated Bing'er's breakthrough, her child was probably trembling in some dark corner, resisting the endless misfortune brought by the fate of a sick child.

While they were planning the grand future of the famous Wang family, her children might not even have a place to shelter from the wind and rain.

Zhao Ya's eyes reddened again.

Wang Gang crawled out of the ruins, shook off the dust, and limped over.

He cautiously reached out, wanting to pat her shoulder as a gesture of comfort.

"Don't rush."

"He's in the 749th Bureau of Jinghai, he can't escape. Let's investigate first, find out what kind of person he is, what he likes and dislikes, what his habits are, and what his taboos are. Take it slow, no rush."

"Not in a hurry?"

Zhao Ya suddenly turned her head and looked at him. Her gaze was like two knives, piercing straight into his eyes.

"How can you expect me not to be in a hurry?"

Her voice suddenly rose, sharp and piercing, carrying a hysterical excitement.

"Nineteen years! I was absent from his life for a full nineteen years!"

She pointed her finger at her chest and poked it hard, as if she wanted to pierce a hole in it.

"I don't know how he's managed all these years! Whether he's had a good time or not! How could an abandoned child, stripped of his very essence, grow up like this? How much suffering must he have endured!"

Her voice choked, and the rest of her words stuck in her throat; she couldn't say them no matter what.

Wang Gang felt bad seeing her like this.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but the words caught in his throat.

At this point, nothing you say will make a difference.

He could only step forward, reach out again, and try to pat her shoulder to offer her some comfort.

"They will compensate you."

The next second, he was slammed hard to the ground.

The fall was incredibly hard; the back of his head hit the floor with a dull thud, making him see stars and his head buzz as if a swarm of bees were having a meeting inside.

Zhao Ya looked down at him, her gaze icy and filled with an undeniable resolve.

"You bastard."

"You are not allowed to touch me until my son is recognized."