Chapter 4The Treasure-Hunting Fetus in My Womb

They bought it for 80% of its value. After a thorough inspection to confirm it was authentic, we exchanged cash for goods. The first thing I did was walk out and buy myself the new tri-fold phone. So slick, no matter how you folded it.

Take my phones, will you? Fine. I’ll just buy a better one myself.

Over the next few months, I became a professional treasure hunter, following my son's tips from one high-end trash can to another. My bank account got upgraded to VIP status. I started wearing clothes made of fine fabrics. I got my driver's license and bought a cute little Mini Cooper. I signed up for yoga, found some hobbies, and even hired a personal nutritionist to manage my meals and a full-time housekeeper for three grand a month. I bought a small, beautifully furnished villa and moved in immediately.

I had officially achieved financial freedom by digging through trash.

As my belly grew, so did my son's excitement.

[I’m almost out! I’m so excited!]

One day, I was sunbathing on the balcony and a thought struck me. "Son, are you… reincarnated?"

[Yeah. In my last life, you heard my voice and rushed to find Dad. He took you in, but life in that family was brutal. He resented you and ignored you completely after I was born. Even with all that money, you couldn't spend a dime. No one even knew you were his wife. You had no status, no recognition. It was a miserable life. And me? I was the unloved illegitimate child. So this time, we’re staying far away from that world and living our own happy life.]

My heart ached for him. I shifted my body to let the sun warm my entire belly. "Okay. Whatever you say, son."

I had plenty of money now. I decided once my son was born and walking, I’d start a side business. This trash-picking gig couldn't last forever. I couldn't keep showing up outside someone's house without eventually getting noticed. What if he got mad and made me give all the money back?

But my son told me not to worry.

[I didn’t live my last life for nothing, Mom. I learned everything I needed to know. I’ll handle the business side of things. You just relax and enjoy yourself.]

Tears of gratitude welled up in my eyes. "You really are my little lucky star."

Despite his words, I couldn't possibly let a child handle all that work. To make sure he was born healthy, I hired a top obstetrician and followed her exercise and diet plan religiously to control his birth weight.

The day of the delivery, we worked together as a team. It was a quick, smooth birth that was over in half an hour. After his first cry, I held him in our private hospital room. He babbled and cooed for a while, but when I didn't respond, he gave up.

I blinked, and it hit me. "Son? I can't hear your thoughts anymore."

He gurgled and managed to pat his tiny tummy with a clumsy hand. I understood. He was hungry. I immediately mixed a bottle for him.

I had given birth to an overachiever. He practiced his motor skills day and night. While other babies were rolling over at three months and crawling at nine, my son was walking confidently at nine months and already starting on preschool material. By the time he went to kindergarten, he had mastered the sixth-grade curriculum. He skipped several grades and, at the age of three, was enrolled in the fifth grade. He was hailed as a child prodigy.

One day, I came home from a shopping trip to find a strange man in my house.

The man looked uncannily like my son. Alarm bells screamed in my head.