Chapter 110: He Doesn’t Make Money Easily

When Fu Wenzhou arrived home, Song Qingyou was sitting in a rattan chair reading a book. Recently, she had asked Song Chang to move all her belongings to the Yalin Villa, including those medical books that had nearly gathered dust.

Song Qingyou had always been quite skilled in medicine. When she gave up studying it years ago, her teacher had reproached her often. Upon hearing that she had recently returned to medicine, the teacher had specially sent her several rare ancient books on traditional Chinese medicine.

The book she was currently reading was one of those.

She never relied on others to save her; if Master Yunfang couldn’t be found, then so be it.

Since she had decided to live, she would save herself.

Traditional Chinese medicine is vast and profound—there would always be a way.

Song Qingyou was so engrossed in her reading that she didn’t notice the movement at the door. Only when the little dog affectionately snuggled up to her did she slightly move, lifting her eyes as if sensing something: “Where have you been?”

Fu Wenzhou buried his head in her shoulder, taking a deep, fierce breath before clutching her like an insatiable wolf, refusing to let go.

Held in this primal embrace, Song Qingyou found it hard to continue reading, so she set the book aside and ruffled his black hair, saying, “I’m asking you.”

Fu Wenzhou suddenly inhaled twice, his eyes filled with infatuation. “At night, it’s just me, Xu Zezhan, and Gu Bai. No one else. You, when did you come back? Why didn’t you call me?”

Song Qingyou reached up to touch his earlobe, her voice gentle: “I’ve been back for a while.”

When alone together, Fu Wenzhou was like a clingy big dog, unwilling to leave her side even for a moment. He insisted on keeping her within his sight at all times.

Compared to before, Song Qingyou indulged him more, though she remained completely unaware of it herself.

For instance, Fu Wenzhou’s kisses had noticeably increased throughout the day. Previously, Song Qingyou would have asked him to stop at some point, but now, she mostly responded with a permissive attitude. Even Song Chang noticed that Miss Song seemed to have changed.

The phone suddenly rang, and Fu Wenzhou reluctantly released the tender, freshly kissed lips of Song Qingyou, a hint of displeasure flashing across his eyes.

He didn’t know who was so ill-timed as to spoil the mood.

Seeing the caller ID, Fu Wenzhou’s face darkened immediately. “Why is Yan Shaoqin calling you?”

After saying this, he softened his tone and kissed Song Qingyou’s earlobe. “Sister, have you been in contact with him too much lately?”

The dissatisfaction in his voice was nearly spilling over.

Song Qingyou pushed his face away. “Stop it.”

Fu Wenzhou was a little angry. The consequence was that while Song Qingyou answered the phone, he repeatedly teased her.

His sensitive touch on her made Song Qingyou nearly moan out loud, but she quickly covered her mouth, preventing herself from making an embarrassing sound.

There was no response from the other side for a long while, then a voice asked, “What’s wrong?”

She glared at Fu Wenzhou, pushed him away completely, and stood by the window on the balcony. “Nothing. Go ahead.”

Yan Shaoqin said, “What are the conditions for transferring all of Qingning’s projects to Shiyu?”

He was not like Fu Wenzhou, that foolish dog, or her ignorant little sister; he couldn’t believe Song Qingyou was so naive and harmless.

Yan Shaoqin knew there was no such thing as a free lunch.

Song Qingyou said, “Open a branch office in the United States and absorb all the senior employees of Qingning.”

There was a long silence on the other end before a teasing tone came through: “Song Qingyou, do you think I’m a shelter? Qingning has hundreds of employees. You want me to take them all in? I don’t look like a philanthropist.”

Fu Wenzhou, unwilling to give up, wrapped his arms around Song Qingyou from behind, burying his head in her neck and kissing her softly, though he kept himself restrained.

Song Qingyou glanced at him sideways and poked his face. “You’re opening a branch in the U.S. with ready talent, saving a huge amount on labor costs. Isn’t that a good deal?”

Yan Shaoqin asked, “Who’s paying for the branch office?”

Song Qingyou replied, “You.”

Another pause, then a light chuckle came through: “Fu Wenzhou isn’t short on money, right? You’re just using me to fleece him? Why don’t you go find him to be your sucker?”

Song Qingyou pressed her lips together, sounding a bit embarrassed: “It’s not easy for him to make money.” Besides, he hardly went to the company these days and just stuck with me. She really feared he might go bankrupt from poor management.

Yan Shaoqin was silent a third time before finally losing patience: “Is it so damn easy for me to make money?”

“Yan Shaoqin, who told you to talk dirty to Youyou?”

A familiar, cold, displeased voice whispered in Song Qingyou’s ear. Yan Shaoqin paused, then realized Fu Wenzhou must be beside her. He was both angry and amused: “Fu Wenzhou, you’re even more clingy than that husky my mom raised.”

Fu Wenzhou sneered, “None of your damn business.”

Yan Shaoqin hung up in a huff.

Fu Wenzhou turned Song Qingyou around in his arms. “Youyou, why do you insist on cooperating with Yan Shaoqin? Why not me?”

Song Qingyou explained, “Yan Shaoqin is a genius in venture capital. He has an excellent eye. Shiyu has already achieved a twenty percent market profit under his management in less than six months. He’s a very good partner.”

Fu Wenzhou’s expression darkened further, his tone cold: “You look down on me.”

“When have I ever looked down on you? Can you stop always comparing yourself to others? I’m just stating facts,” Song Qingyou said, exasperated. Though she didn’t understand Fu Wenzhou’s thought process, she had recently learned a new skill to cheer him up: “Besides, I want you to spend more time with me. Starting a company from scratch takes a lot of energy. Yan Shaoqin is single and doesn’t need to accompany a girlfriend. You’re not.”

Hearing this, the heavy atmosphere around Fu Wenzhou vanished without a trace, replaced by his signature dog-like smile: “Really?”

Song Qingyou nodded. “Really.”

Fu Wenzhou brightened up and leaned in for a kiss.

Song Qingyou welcomed him eagerly. They kissed for more than ten minutes until both were breathless and finally stopped.

Blushing, Song Qingyou’s voice trembled slightly: “I’m going to call Uncle Chang.”

Fu Wenzhou knew she wanted to inform about returning to the Song family tomorrow, so he didn’t cling to her further. “Okay.”

Song Qingyou lay back in the rattan chair. “Uncle Chang, how’s everything?”

Song Chang replied, “It’s all arranged.”

Relieved by the answer, Song Qingyou ended the call and got up. “Fu Wenzhou.”

“Hm?” Fu Wenzhou, leaning on crutches with both legs bandaged, looked quite comical.

Song Qingyou took a careful look and couldn’t help laughing. “Do you want me to help you upstairs?”

Fu Wenzhou: “Yes.”

In front of Song Qingyou, he didn’t care about pride—it was better to take advantage when possible.

The moon hung high.

At night, Fu Wenzhou quietly got up and, leaning on his crutches, went to the study.

He stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, took out a cigarette, and twirled it between his fingers before dialing a number.

“Uncle Rong, help me check on someone.” The room was dimly lit by a single desk lamp, blending Fu Wenzhou’s face into the darkness, making his expression unreadable. “His name is Yun Fang. Check whether he’s alive or dead.”