Ming Yue followed the all-too-familiar voice and looked up to see, as if by magic, several people suddenly appearing at the entrance of the Ming Family Home.

The man at the head wore a grim expression, his eyes sharp as blades.

It was none other than the owner of that voice—the master of this household; indeed, it was her biological father: the head of the Ming Family, the boss of the Huiqing Group, Ming Shuo.

Ming Shuo was dressed in a tailored, form-fitting dark suit, two faint lines etched across his forehead. Yet his aura had grown even more commanding than before, exuding an air of dignified authority that commanded respect without needing to raise his voice.

The unnamed male operative’s face darkened as he cast a piercing glance at the scene in the living room, his eyes like hooks, fixed intently on Ming Yue’s eyes—as if conducting a final judgment before death.

To Ming Shuo’s left stood a middle-aged woman in a purple dress with long flowing hair.

She was slender and elegant, her makeup subtle and delicate, her skin smooth and fair. One hand rested affectionately on Ming Shuo’s arm, as though they were a pair of celestial lovers.

In Ming Yue’s memory, this same elderly figure used to hold Mother’s hand in public just like this.

Upon seeing Ming Yue, the middle-aged woman immediately wore a gentle smile.

She gently tugged at Ming Shuo’s sleeve and said in a soft, tender voice, “A Shuo, what are you doing? The child has finally come home after so much trouble—please speak nicely and stop being so stern. You’ll scare the child again!”

To Ming Shuo’s right stood a young woman in pink, strikingly similar in appearance to the purple-dressed middle-aged woman, along with a tall, emaciated young man.

Ming Yue knew them well.

The pink-clad young woman’s eyebrows and eyes bore a strong resemblance to the purple-dressed middle-aged woman, with a distinct trace of Ming Shuo’s features as well. She had an innate charm, fair skin, and eyes that easily caught the eye—but her allure fell short of the middle-aged woman’s, and her tenderness was slightly less pronounced.

As for the man beside her…

Five years had passed, and he seemed to have lost a whole circle of weight.

Upon seeing Ming Yue, the pink-clad young woman openly glared at her, her face brimming with anger and disdain.

The next instant, she quietly leaned closer to the young man beside her, as if declaring her claim: “This is my man—you worthless slut, don’t even think about trying to steal him from me again!”

The young man, however, seemed oblivious.

From the moment he entered the room, his attention had been locked on Ming Yue. His eyes were like parched land finally receiving rain, their once-dull gaze now filled with steaming mist, his thin lips trembling ever so slightly.

No attempt to conceal his sharpness, no effort to hide his emotions.

Those hawk-like eyes stared straight at Ming Yue.

Ming Yue didn’t meet his gaze; she quickly turned her head away.

She ignored both the purple-dressed woman’s friendly overtures and the pink-clad young woman’s hostility, as well as the young man’s intense stare. With cool, unflinching eyes, she faced the cold, questioning man who demanded, “I said I didn’t touch her—so I didn’t! If Mr. Ming doesn’t believe me, just call the police.”

The words “Dad,” which she once loved to call him most, were now almost impossible to utter.

Instead, she addressed him as “Mr. Ming”—a title both of them found strangely unfamiliar.

“Fine! Then call the police!”

Ming Shuo’s expression grew even darker.

Ming Yue refused to back down, letting out a cold snort. “If you want to call, go ahead.”

She swiftly pulled out her phone and began dialing the emergency number.

The purple-dressed woman quickly released Ming Shuo’s arm, hurried over to Ming Yue, and with one hand hung up the call Ming Yue was making while the other warmly held her, trying to soothe her.

“Sweetheart, please don’t act impulsively—let’s talk things through calmly! We’re all family; what’s there that we can’t say behind closed doors? Don’t make a scene and embarrass ourselves in front of others.”

She slipped Ming Yue’s phone into her pocket, then turned to give Ming Shuo a look and said, “And you, A Shuo… could you please speak more politely?”

Ming Yue stared at her.

Ming Shuo turned his face away.

The purple-dressed woman still wore a beaming smile. “Ming Yue, you only have one person to rely on—don’t do anything that will make the child suffer and leave you regretting it later. Go inside and have a good talk with her.”

She kept offering words of advice here and there, gently coaxing and urging, until she finally managed to lead the tense father-daughter duo into Ming Shuo’s study.

Back in the living room, the purple-dressed woman hurried over to check on Ming Xia’s injuries, then instructed the housekeeper—who had been standing there in a daze, pale-faced and unsure what to do—to take her to the hospital immediately.

But Ming Xia wasn’t having any of it.

She let out a cold huff and angrily brushed off the purple-dressed woman.

End of Chapter 2: The Virtuous Stepmother