Chapter 133: A Heart Broken in Two

The accident happened in the blink of an eye. As Song Qingyou turned around, the knife was only a few centimeters away from her.

Just as the blade was about to pierce her heart, it suddenly stopped midair. Fu Wenzhou caught the knife’s edge with his bare hand; blood dripped down from his palm.

With his other hand, he grabbed Chen Chuan’s arm holding the knife. With a swift twist of his wrist, the knife slipped from Chen Chuan’s grasp, tracing a streak of light as it fell into Fu Wenzhou’s palm. He flipped the handle in his hand and then plunged the blade fiercely into Chen Chuan’s chest.

Blood splattered across the man’s handsome face. His expression remained utterly impassive, his eyes dark and brooding, radiating a fierce, violent aura.

He pulled the knife out from Chen Chuan’s chest, ready to strike a second time.

“Fu Wenzhou,” Song Qingyou bent down and firmly grasped his wrist. “The police are coming.”

Blood droplets hung from Fu Wenzhou’s eyelashes, making him look mesmerizingly dangerous.

Song Qingyou gently wiped the blood off his face and hands with a handkerchief. “Be good. I’m fine. Put the knife down.”

Fu Wenzhou’s palm slowly relaxed, and the fruit knife clattered sharply to the ground.

Everyone around was stunned by the scene, but Song Qingyou’s face remained calm as she carefully cleaned the blood stains on Fu Wenzhou’s face and hands.

After noticing the cut on Fu Wenzhou’s hand, a flicker of cold determination flashed in her eyes, but it vanished as swiftly as it came.

The police arrived to witness this very scene.

The man looked like a ruthless, savage beast, his eyes bloodshot and terrifying, as if he wanted to devour the man on the ground alive. Yet when he turned and saw the woman, the murderous intent in his brows vanished instantly.

They hurried over, fearful that more violence would erupt.

Someone dialed emergency services.

Song Qingyou held Fu Wenzhou’s hand, stepping slightly in front of him as she faced the police. “Chen Chuan tried to kill me with a knife. My boyfriend acted in self-defense.”

Assistant Lin quickly spoke up, “Yes, I can confirm Chen Chuan was the aggressor.”

The police had arrived too late to see the full situation, but Chen Chuan’s earlier aggression clearly appeared threatening.

Moreover, the man who stabbed Chen Chuan was well known to them—Fu’s youngest son, Fu Wenzhou.

They dared not offend him before understanding the full circumstances.

Their immediate priority was to rush the severely bleeding Chen Chuan to the hospital.

The lead officer said, “Even if it was self-defense, you must cooperate by going to the station to give a statement.”

Song Qingyou frowned slightly, displeased, “Can’t you see his hand is injured?”

The police hadn’t noticed until then and, after being reminded, opened their mouths in surprise. “Then we’ll get him treated first, then go to the station.”

The sound of an ambulance echoed outside, and Song Qingyou followed them to the hospital.

While the doctor treated Fu Wenzhou’s wound, Song Qingyou’s brow furrowed. “Is it tendon damage? Will it leave a scar?”

The doctor glanced at her. “Don’t worry. Compared to the man lying in the emergency room fighting for his life, this is just a superficial cut.”

Song Qingyou’s voice was cool. “It’s deep enough to cut into the flesh.”

The doctor replied, “It’s only a skin wound. With stitches, he can have the stitches removed in about a week. It won’t leave a scar.”

Fu Wenzhou’s lips curled into a smile, his voice husky. “Qingyou, I told you it’s nothing. Stop worrying about me.”

The doctor rolled his eyes and smirked, “You’re practically blooming like a flower with that grin. You just want her to fuss over you, don’t you?”

Fu Wenzhou’s smile stiffened, and he shot back, “Mind your own business.”

Song Qingyou reached out and brushed back the black hair from his forehead. “Speak politely.”

“Oh?” Fu Wenzhou drew a sly curve on his lips. “And who says you’re in charge?”

The doctor was speechless.

“All right, the police are still waiting outside,” the doctor said as he cut open the bandage.

Song Qingyou glanced toward the door, then looked back at Fu Wenzhou. “You go with them first. I’ll come get you later.”

Fu Wenzhou was indifferent about going to the station—it wasn’t his first time.

But there was something else far more important to him.

He reached into his coat pocket and took out a thermal lunch box. His thick winter clothes concealed it so well that no one noticed it on the way over.

Now, as he opened the lid with his uninjured hand, his face darkened when he saw the heart-shaped arrangement inside had been disturbed by the recent chaos.

Song Qingyou smiled warmly. “What now? The heart is broken in two.”

Fu Wenzhou scowled, turning his face away in silent anger.

Song Qingyou raised her hand, gently pinching both sides of his jaw to turn his head back. “You can make it again next time. No need to be mad.”

Fu Wenzhou whined, “I spent a long time arranging it!”

Song Qingyou couldn’t help but laugh. “Well then, shall I finish eating before you leave?”

Fu Wenzhou brightened. “Okay.”

So Song Qingyou truly sat down and began eating, though her appetite was small. Still, she ate every bite of the food Fu Wenzhou had brought.

The doctor was utterly dumbfounded.

Outside, police officers stood guard, waiting to take them for statements. Yet inside, the two were sharing a meal and showing off their affection.

It was utterly shameless—bullying an old man like him.

The doctor grumbled, “This isn’t a lounge.”

Song Qingyou packed up the lunch box and wiped the table clean. “Sorry, we’re leaving now.”

“No offense meant,” the doctor said with a glance at the couple. “You might want to emphasize his injury a bit more. Otherwise, given the other man’s condition, it could be ruled as excessive self-defense.”

“Thank you,” Song Qingyou said sincerely.

Then she took Fu Wenzhou’s hand and headed out. The police had been waiting patiently, showing no sign of impatience. Finally, they saw him and wasted no time: “Mr. Fu, please come with us.”

Fu Wenzhou’s eyes locked tightly on Song Qingyou’s. “Remember to come get me later.”

“Mm,” Song Qingyou replied.

Reassured, Fu Wenzhou finally left.

As the hallway emptied, Song Qingyou’s expression darkened. She took out her phone and called Song Chang.

“Uncle Chang, have the cameras been handled?”

Song Chang: “All cleaned up. Only the stairwell camera remains for the police. That angle only captures backs, so it won’t show the moment Mr. Fu swung the knife for the second strike.”

Song Qingyou said lightly, “Good. Send the hotel room records of Chen Chuan and Qin Tian to Chen Chuan’s wife and Qin Tian’s son.”

“Got it,” Song Chang replied. “How is Mr. Fu?”

Song Qingyou lowered her gaze to the lunch box in her hand. Her tone softened. “It’s nothing serious. I’ll pick him up later. Right now, I have to go find Bai Li.”