Chapter 163: Partiality

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Inside the room, Song Qingyou reached out and switched on the light, instantly brightening the space as if it were daylight. Fu Wenzhou clung to her like a large dog, and his peripheral vision caught sight of the stains on the hem of her dress. His brow furrowed sharply as he grabbed her wrist. “How did your clothes get dirty? What happened?”

Fu Wenzhou knew Song Qingyou was always meticulous about cleanliness; even a speck of dust on her dress would prompt her to wipe it off immediately. He stared intently at her, certain that something must have occurred for her to be unaware of the dirt smudged all over her dress.

In truth, Song Qingyou had indeed forgotten.

Her mind was muddled, more confused than pained.

She paused briefly, then slowly forced a smile. “I probably just brushed against something by accident. I’m going to take a shower and change.”

Fu Wenzhou didn’t release her hand, his gaze fixed firmly on her.

Song Qingyou handed him the cat. “I’ll come out and tell you once I’ve changed.”

Silent, Fu Wenzhou watched her, then slowly loosened his grip.

The bathroom door closed. Fu Wenzhou went downstairs, settled Zhuozhuo comfortably, and then made a call to the prison.

His voice was cold and sharp. “Send me the surveillance footage of Song Yuan’s visit today.”

He hung up quickly, and on the other end, the response was swift.

Before long, Fu Wenzhou’s phone received an anonymous email.

Opening the attached video, his expression darkened further.

“Song Qingyou, the truth is this: your mother, Song Ning, abandoned you. After giving birth, she left you as an infant in the delivery room and ran away! As for your grandfather, Song Zhi, you think he cares for you? I’m telling you, he despises you! Song Zhi believes that if not for you, Song Ning wouldn’t have died. I saw with my own eyes him choking you with both hands.”

“Just like that, you were nearly strangled to death on that snowy winter night! If I hadn’t stopped him, do you think you’d be alive today? Of course, I saved you not out of fatherly love, but because you living means I can use you to claim shares in the Song family. If you were dead, I’d be completely disconnected from the Song family.”

“Song Qingyou, your entire revenge plan is a joke, hahaha… Taking back the Song family, avenging your so-called dead mother and grandfather, scheming to kill me—yet the ones you love do not love you back.”

“No one in this world truly loves you. You were born an orphan abandoned at birth, destined never to receive a shred of love!”

“Song Qingyou, you are nothing but worthless trash!”

Fu Wenzhou’s dark eyes surged with a fierce bloodlust and rage, veins bulging as he growled hoarsely, “Song Yuan!”

The vast study was thick with murderous intent. Fu Wenzhou dialed a number, his face as dark as ink, cold as the winter wind laden with icy shards, sending chills down one’s spine.

“By the end of tomorrow, I want to see news of Song Yuan dead at the city’s outskirts burial ground.”

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Outside, the wind howled and rain lashed down amid flashes of lightning and thunder, water drumming against the glass windows in a steady patter.

Inside, however, all was peaceful and calm.

When Song Qingyou emerged from the bathroom, Fu Wenzhou was sitting on the edge of the bed flipping through one of her medical books. Hearing her movement, he raised an eyebrow with a smile.

Song Qingyou wiped her hair and let Fu Wenzhou gently push her down to sit on the bed, his large hands ruffling her hair.

He expertly helped dry her hair, his fingertips lingering tenderly in her locks until Song Qingyou reminded him, “If you keep drying it like this, you’ll ruin my hair.”

Fu Wenzhou turned off the dryer with a hum. “With my skills, how could I possibly ruin your hair?”

Song Qingyou said nothing, but to be fair, Fu Wenzhou was indeed gifted when it came to caring for her.

Housework, cooking—anything involving her—he seemed to take on personally, often doing better than the housemaids, even better than Song Qingyou herself.

Anyone would enjoy such pampering.

Naturally, Song Qingyou, by nature a little lazy, relished being cared for by Fu Wenzhou.

He put away the hairdryer and walked over to her, opening his arms.

A slight, elusive smile curved his thin lips. “Song Qingyou, come here for a hug.”

She looked up at him. His eyes seemed filled with a boundless ocean of love, irresistible and intoxicating.

At that moment, her desire to feel his skin against hers reached its peak.

Without hesitation, Song Qingyou leapt into his embrace, holding him tightly. Her eyes stung with tears, as if the emotions she had suppressed all day finally found release.

Fu Wenzhou gently patted her back, his gaze soft as water, his deep affection plain to see.

“Song Qingyou.”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

“I know,” she whispered.

Fu Wenzhou’s large hand struck her back lightly, voice low and husky. “I love you, and I will love you forever.”

Song Qingyou’s cheeks flushed. “Why say that all of a sudden?”

“Because I want you to know,” Fu Wenzhou said, “No one will ever love you more than I do, so it doesn’t matter if you don’t want the little bit of love others give you.”

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Song Qingyou was momentarily stunned. Her fingers tightened slightly as she slowly closed her eyes. “Mm.”

It was a simple but profoundly powerful embrace, one that gave her an unprecedented sense of security.

For the first time since birth, her drifting heart found its resting place.

Within her battered and shattered heart, Fu Wenzhou wrapped it anew with love, stitching it together bit by bit.

For more than twenty years, it had hidden in a dark corner, afraid to see the light of day. Now, a beam of light pierced the thick fog, illuminating that sorrowful and lonely barren land.

Fu Wenzhou felt his chest grow moist, his heart suddenly panicked. He turned Song Qingyou’s face toward him, voice low and urgent. “Why are you crying?”

Song Qingyou smiled as she wiped her tears. “Fu Wenzhou, do you know? My health isn’t good. I’ve been taking those bitter traditional medicines every day just to keep myself alive, all for the sake of avenging my mother and grandfather. My life plan, my reason for living, was to take back everything from the Song family and seek justice for them. But today… today Song Yuan told me all of that is a lie.”

Her heart overflowed with grievance and sorrow.

How could she not feel wronged? How could she not be sad?

She wasn’t made of steel. She had always believed Song Ning and Song Zhi loved her, that someone in her family cared for her, but they all left her one by one because of circumstances beyond their control.

Before seeing Fu Wenzhou, Song Qingyou thought it didn’t matter. Maybe Song Yuan was lying.

Or maybe, even if Song Yuan was telling the truth, Song Ning had her own reasons for choosing to leave. Song Yuan treated her poorly, which is why Song Ning risked her life to escape after giving birth.

Her grandfather lost his only daughter. If it weren’t for her being in Song Ning’s womb, Song Ning wouldn’t have had complications, so Song Zhi wanting to kill her was understandable.

Their choices were not really wrong.

Song Qingyou comforted herself this way.

She thought there was no reason to be sad. She and Song Ning didn’t have much of a bond, and her grandfather had once cared for her.

Before receiving this embrace, Song Qingyou had always thought this way.

But she was wrong. Humans are emotional creatures. She could feel sadness, pain, and injustice too.

She had just been used to suppressing her feelings. But in front of Fu Wenzhou, she could be herself, not have to care so much, and cry if she wanted to.

Because she knew Fu Wenzhou would never leave her, unlike her mother, her grandfather, or her beloved childhood nanny.

He would always be by her side.

Because Song Qingyou was Fu Wenzhou’s blatant favorite, his well-known private concern.