The Billionaire Businesswoman Searchesfor Her Lost Son: I acquire my mother’s billion-dollar enterprise

Qin Yuan stood frozen, rendered speechless by the sheer absurdity of the realization. His own biological mother and he had been neighbors all along! The coincidence felt like the universe’s grand joke, a cosmic thread binding them in ways he had never anticipated.

Song Caifu, her voice laced with playful curiosity, walked up with her mother and chimed in, “Sister, isn’t it weird? The owner of Courtyard No. 1 has been here for a year, and yet I’ve never seen him even once!”

“I did catch a glimpse,” Song Yazhi interjected, her tone casual but with a faint edge of disapproval. “It was from a distance—a young man driving what looked like an armored vehicle. I later checked online; it’s called a Knight XV. Gaudy and ridiculous. Honestly, I think the owner must be some spoiled rich kid.” She shook her head with an air of finality. “Too ostentatious for my taste. I don’t like his kind.”

Qin Yuan bit the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning. Dear Mother, he thought wryly, that ‘ostentatious’ guy is standing right in front of you. He offered a weak smile, unsure whether to laugh or cry.

But when Song Yazhi turned to look at him, her face softened into a glowing smile. “Now, my son is different,” she said, her voice brimming with pride. Her gaze lingered on him, as though confirming the depth of his humility and grace. “Such a steady, gentle nature. It’s rare.”

She might have been unaware of the irony, but her words made Qin Yuan’s chest tighten. He couldn’t deny the truth of her praise; years of controlling his emotions and perfecting his facade had sculpted him into the man she now admired.

“Alright, let’s go home,” Song Yazhi announced, her excitement bubbling over.

Tan Palace loomed ahead like a secluded haven of opulence, one of the top three luxury residential areas in Ninghai. It housed only eighteen villas, each a masterpiece of architecture, each priced at over 300 million yuan. Courtyard No. 3, the Song family residence, was particularly striking, with its majestic design, imported alpine stones lining the pathways, and the scent of blooming flowers wafting through the air.

“Xiao Yuan, do you like it here?” Song Yazhi asked, her voice laced with anticipation.

“It’s nice,” Qin Yuan replied with a faint smile, his tone measured. In truth, the surroundings felt all too familiar—he was, after all, the owner of Courtyard No. 1. The novelty of the extravagance had long since worn off.

Song Caifu leaned in to whisper to her sister, “Why does it feel like he’s too calm about this? Shouldn’t he be more impressed?”

Song Ziwei frowned slightly, her sharp instincts catching the same oddity. Qin Yuan’s demeanor was far from what she had expected for someone suddenly thrust into this world of wealth and grandeur. The lack of wide-eyed awe unsettled her.

As they approached the entrance, Song Yazhi glanced at her son with a tender expression. “Xiao Yuan, our home is big enough. If you’d like, you could move in and live here with me.” Her words were filled with eagerness, but as the weight of her offer settled over them, she hesitated, realizing she might have overstepped.

Qin Yuan and the sisters exchanged glances. Song Yazhi quickly laughed it off, brushing her offer aside. “Come on, let’s head inside,” she said warmly, leading them into the mansion.

The interior of Courtyard No. 3 was a masterpiece of understated luxury, with every detail meticulously chosen to reflect elegance without ostentation. Warm tones softened the grandeur, lending the house a comforting, lived-in feel.

“Ziwei, Caifu, why don’t you show your brother around?” Song Yazhi suggested. Then, turning to Qin Yuan with a smile, she added, “I’ll make us something to eat. Xiao Yuan, I’ve been waiting thirty years for this moment. Let me cook for you.”

Before anyone could respond, she bustled off toward the kitchen, leaving the three of them in the spacious living room.

Song Caifu couldn’t help but chuckle, her playful nature shining through. “Mom really is cheesy. She calls you Xiao Yuan like you’re still a little kid!”

Qin Yuan only smiled faintly, but her words tugged at his heart.

“Come on,” Song Ziwei interjected coolly, “let’s show you around.” Her tone was brisk, but her steps were deliberate as she led him through the house.

Song Caifu, however, was quicker, slipping her arm around Qin Yuan’s without hesitation. “Brother, is it okay if I call you that?” she asked with a bright, teasing grin.

Qin Yuan nodded, touched by her warmth. “Of course,” he said.

“Don’t mind my sister,” Song Caifu whispered conspiratorially. “She’s always like that—cold to everyone, even our mom. But she means well.”

The tour continued, with the sisters pointing out each room and its significance. “That’s Mom’s room,” Song Ziwei explained. “Mine is next door. Caifu’s room is upstairs, and there’s a guest room next to hers. If you move in, you’ll be her neighbor.”

As they moved to the upper floors, Song Caifu gestured toward a large portrait hanging in one hallway. “That’s you,” she said, her voice softening. “A picture of you when you were just born. Mom has kept it all these years. She looks at it every night before going to bed.”

Qin Yuan’s chest tightened at the revelation. He stared at the photo for a moment, imagining the years his mother had spent longing for this reunion.

When they reached the third floor, the mood shifted. One door at the end of the hallway drew their attention, and both sisters hesitated.

“What’s in there?” Qin Yuan asked, sensing their unease.

“It’s… a special room,” Song Ziwei said carefully, her voice dropping. “It’s better if Mom tells you about it herself.”

Song Caifu, uncharacteristically quiet, nodded in agreement. Her usual cheerfulness was replaced by a melancholy that mirrored her sister’s. “Brother, wait for Mom,” she said softly. “She’ll explain everything.”

Though curiosity burned within him, Qin Yuan respected their wishes. He cast one last glance at the mysterious door before turning away. Whatever secrets lay behind it, he would face them when the time was right.