Transmigration; Married to My Ex-Fiancé's Uncle-Chapter 227; Kidnapping

"Daddy will be relieved you didn’t buy the shopping district," Yuyan countered.

They ended up at an elegant boutique called Madame Chen’s, which specialized in sophisticated women’s wear. Shuyin had been here before, years ago, when she’d been Lu Zeyan’s fiancée and money had been something that simply appeared when needed.

The owner, Madame Chen herself, looked up as they entered. She was in her sixties, impeccably dressed, with sharp eyes that missed nothing.

Those eyes landed on Shuyin, and something flickered, recognition, surprise, calculation.

"Lin Shuyin," Madame Chen said slowly. "I heard you were... back."

"I am," Shuyin confirmed, meeting her gaze steadily. "And I need a few pieces. Nothing extravagant. Just enough to stop borrowing from my man’s closet."

Madame Chen’s eyebrows rose slightly at her mother-in-law, but she was too professional to comment. "Of course. What are you looking for?"

"Business appropriate," Shuyin said. "A few casual pieces. Maybe one or two things for evening wear."

"I can work with that," Madame Chen said, her professional mask sliding into place. "Though I must say, you’re looking well. Prison clearly didn’t... diminish you."

The words hung in the air, not quite an insult, not quite a compliment.

"Prison taught me many things," Shuyin replied smoothly. "Resilience being chief among them. Now, shall we shop? I have a credit limit to stay within and a husband who’s counting on my fiscal responsibility."

"A husband," Madame Chen repeated, and now there was definite curiosity. "Not Lu Zeyan, I presume?"

"Definitely not Lu Zeyan," Shuyin confirmed. "Someone much better. I unknowingly hit a jackpot, you will someday see that!"

Madame Chen’s smile turned genuine. "Well then. Let’s ensure you look absolutely stunning. Nothing says ’I’ve moved on’ quite like perfect tailoring."

Shuyin smiled back. "My thoughts exactly."

Madame Chen led Shuyin deeper into the boutique, pulling elegant pieces with practiced efficiency. A charcoal suit with subtle pinstripes. A cream silk blouse that caught the light beautifully. A midnight blue dress that managed to be both professional and devastating.

"Try these," Madame Chen instructed, gesturing toward a private fitting room.

Shuyin was examining an adorable jacket, running her fingers over the fabric to assess quality, when raised voices erupted near the entrance.

"I’m sorry, but we have a dress code," the shop assistant was saying, her tone strained. "I’ll have to ask you to...."

"To what?" A woman’s voice, sharp with indignation echoed. "Leave? Because we don’t look wealthy enough for your precious boutique?"

Shuyin turned, her assessment automatic and detached. A middle-aged woman stood at the entrance with her teenage daughter, both adequately dressed but clearly not wearing the designer labels Madame Chen’s typically attracted. The mother’s face was flushed, embarrassment mixed with anger.

Behind them, three women in garish luxury brands were pressing forward, their expressions smug and contemptuous.

"We were here first," the mother protested. "We have an appointment..."

"I’m sure you do," one of the wealthy women said, her voice dripping with condescension. "But perhaps a more... suitable shop would better serve your needs? This is Madame Chen’s, after all. Not exactly a place for bargain hunters."

The mother’s face went white, then red. "How dare you...."

"Ladies, please," the shop assistant tried to intervene, but the situation was already escalating.

The confrontation was growing louder. Voices rising. Bodies pressing closer. The kind of scene that drew every eye in the boutique.

Perfect distraction, a cold part of Shuyin’s mind observed clinically.

Too perfect.

Her eyes swept the space with calculating precision. Chen Xiao had been pulled too close to the commotion, his small face alarmed, stress ball clutched tight in both hands. She moved efficiently, extracting him from the chaos and positioning him behind her.

"What’s happening?" he whispered, his voice small.

"Just some rude people forgetting their manners," Shuyin murmured, but her gaze was already continuing its scan.

Madame Chen had emerged from the back. The sales associates were clustered near the argument. Even Ting Fei had shifted position to monitor the escalating confrontation, his attention divided between the disturbance and maintaining proper sight lines.

Everyone was looking at the entrance.

Which meant no one was looking elsewhere.

Where was Yuyan?

The thought was calm, analytical. But Shuyin’s pulse kicked up a notch anyway, a physical response her body initiated before her mind could suppress it.

"Chen Xiao." Her voice remained level, controlled. "When did Yuyan leave your sight?"

Chen Xiao blinked up at her, confused by the sudden question. "She went to the bathroom. A few minutes ago? Before those ladies started yelling."

A few minutes.

The argument had started approximately three minutes ago based on Shuyin’s internal clock. Which meant Yuyan had been absent for, what, five minutes? Six?

Too long for a simple bathroom visit.

Shuyin’s mind clicked through possibilities with cold precision. Yuyan was twelve, a child but not so much requiring constant supervision. But she was also recently recovered from a six-month coma, and this was their first major public outing without the additional security of the usual.

"Ting Fei," Shuyin called, her voice cutting through the noise without rising in volume, clear, direct, commanding attention.

He turned immediately, reading something in her expression that made his posture shift to full alert.

"Yuyan’s location," she said. Two words. Simple. Direct.

Understanding flashed across his face. "I’ll check the bathroom...."

"I’ll go." Shuyin was already moving, her hand finding Chen Xiao’s. "Stay alert."

The code was clear. Potential threat. Elevated awareness. Prepare for escalation.

The hallway leading to the facilities stretched before her, dimmer than the main boutique, the lighting deliberately subdued for ambiance. Shuyin’s heels clicked against marble with measured rhythm. Not running. Running would indicate panic, and panic was inefficient, counterproductive.

Even as her heart rate continued climbing with each step.

Even as her fingers tightened fractionally on Chen Xiao’s hand.

The bathroom door was ajar.

Wrong.

If someone was inside, the door should have been closed. She moved to the other side.

Shuyin pushed it open, her voice steady. "Yuyan?"

The silence that greeted her was absolute and damning.

She scanned the space with systematic efficiency. Two stalls, both empty, doors hanging open. Vanity with an oversized mirror. Gleaming fixtures that probably cost more than most people’s cars. And.....