Chapter 18: Fiercely Protective

Fu Wenzhou raised his bidding paddle, his gaze sweeping down over Fu Tingshen with a cold, mocking indifference.

Fu Tingshen clenched his fists. The rules of the auction dictated immediate payment and collection of the item after the event. After divorcing Song Qingyou, he had handed over most of his assets to her, leaving himself with only fifty million in liquid funds.

He was painfully aware that Fu Wenzhou’s bid had been calculated to match the last of his available money.

The scrutinizing stares from those around made Fu Tingshen feel exposed. The rumors of discord between uncle and nephew had never ceased in the capital, and now, too many people were eager to watch him make a fool of himself.

Last time, he’d landed himself in the hospital after a fight; this time, Fu Wenzhou was deliberately provoking him, seeking to humiliate him in public. It took all of Fu Tingshen’s strength to suppress his mounting fury.

Seeing the auctioneer raise his gavel for the first time while Fu Tingshen remained silent, Lin Miaomiao grew anxious. “Tingshen, why aren’t you bidding?”

Fu Tingshen kept his expression steely. “Don’t you prefer Western-style weddings? A wedding gown suits you better than a cheongsam.”

When she heard the word “suits,” Lin Miaomiao’s face changed abruptly. “What do you mean? Are you saying I don’t look as good in a cheongsam as Song Qingyou? Is she all you see? If you like her so much, why are you with me?”

Lin Miaomiao, of humble origins, had always been kept in a villa by Fu Tingshen, sheltered from the wider world. The petulant airs of her upbringing had never quite faded—one reason why, even at odds with Song Qingyou, Fu Tingshen always chose to bring her to important, formal occasions instead of Lin Miaomiao.

Her outburst drew even more attention their way. Already embarrassed by his lack of funds, Fu Tingshen felt his dignity slipping further. He snapped, “Miaomiao, don’t be unreasonable.”

Lin Miaomiao had survived so long at Fu Tingshen’s side because she knew how to act and endure. Her emotions had just gotten the better of her for a moment. Seeing Fu Tingshen’s expression darken, she immediately softened her tone. “I’m sorry, Tingshen. I just care about you too much.”

Fu Tingshen’s brows furrowed deeply. In the past, her fragile, pitiful demeanor would have moved him, but today, he found it oddly grating.

The auctioneer struck the gavel for the third time. In the end, “Verdant Peaks and Willow Green” went to Fu Wenzhou.

Fu Tingshen glanced at his nephew, who lounged with a languid, mocking smile at the corners of his eyes—a look of scornful pride.

A rush of anger surged in Fu Tingshen, tightening his fists until his knuckles whitened.

Fu Wenzhou lifted his eyelids, his gaze sharp as ice.

Beside him, Xu Zezhan raised a brow. “Your uncle looks ready to eat you alive.”

Unbothered, Fu Wenzhou replied, “He’d have to be capable of it first.”

Gu Bai asked, “You really spent all that money bidding on a cheongsam just to spite your uncle?”

Fu Wenzhou looked at him as if he were a fool, his voice low and cold. “Do I seem that childish?”

Gu Bai answered earnestly, “Yes.”

“Get lost.”

“….”

Gu Bai turned to Xu Zezhan for comfort. “A-Zhan, did you hear him?”

Xu Zezhan laughed, pushing Gu Bai away. “I like women. Don’t disgust me.”

“Damn! Like you’re the only one.”

Xu Zezhan ruffled Gu Bai’s hair, then looked to Fu Wenzhou. “I hear Song Chen is planning to invest in the Ruan family’s new energy project.”

“So?” Fu Wenzhou’s tone was lazy.

Xu Zezhan grew anxious. “Don’t you know why your little white flower is at the Ruan family’s place? With her venture capital company, could she really support such a giant? Just don’t let her lose both money and reputation.”

Gu Bai also grew serious. “Song Qingyou wants to bring down the Song family, but that’s like an egg striking a rock. She plans to compete with her second brother, but just the funds alone are a huge hurdle. Yan Shaoqin is a sly old fox—no way he’d let himself be used as a pawn. He won’t provide any money. And besides, shaking a tree as an ant is no easy feat. You’d better talk her out of it.”

Fu Wenzhou’s lips curved in a faint, careless smile. “What is there to fear? I’ll cover her losses.”

Jiang Zhiyuan shot him a glance. “You plan to bail her out every time?”

“Why not?” Fu Wenzhou’s eyelids lifted lazily. “As long as she’s willing to stay by my side, I’d indulge her in anything. She could turn the whole city upside down and I’d still coax her along.”

“….”

Jiang Zhiyuan found his loyalty almost touching. “You really plan to marry a woman who was once wed to your uncle?”

Fu Wenzhou smiled darkly, his eyes cold and chilling. “And why not?”

Jiang Zhiyuan said nothing more. He couldn’t comprehend it—given Fu Wenzhou’s wealth and background, he could have any woman he wanted. Why insist on marrying his own aunt by marriage?

For people like them, reputation was paramount. No matter how rotten things were within, the exterior had to remain polished. Private scandals could be tacitly acknowledged, but never flaunted in public.

But Fu Wenzhou was different—he seemed eager for the world to know he loved Song Qingyou. His possessiveness toward her had reached a terrifying extreme.

And yet, his own attitude was one of utter entitlement, as if he saw nothing wrong in his actions at all.

—

Having failed to obtain what she wanted, Song Qingyou had no desire to linger. After bidding farewell to Yan Miao, she rose and made her way out of the hall.

Out of courtesy, she stopped to speak with Ruan Yutang before leaving through the rear garden.

Song Chang had been waiting for some time. Seeing her emerge so early, he asked curiously, “Has the banquet ended?”

Song Qingyou shook her head. “Verdant Peaks and Willow Green was auctioned off.”

Song Chang understood. “Then we’ll just have to purchase another.”

A dull ache throbbed in Song Qingyou’s head. She massaged her temples and, suppressing the tickle in her throat, replied softly, “There’s still time before Madam Ruan’s birthday. We can discuss it later.”

Securing a partnership with the Ruan family was essential—not just because of Song Chen. If she could win the Ruan family’s new energy project, her company would make an instant name for itself, expanding under their prestigious banner.

To her company, the Ruan family was a living advertisement.

Song Qingyou closed her eyes briefly. She was exhausted; she’d only meant to rest on the ride home, but ended up falling sound asleep. When she woke, they had already arrived at her apartment.

Song Chang opened the door for her. “Miss, are you comfortable living here? Should I look for a larger place—?”

“No need, Uncle Chang,” Song Qingyou said gently. “I’ve lived here three years already. I’m used to it.”

Looking at her face, so like Song Ning’s, Song Chang felt a wave of sorrow. “Miss, more than revenge, I wish for you to be healthy.”

Song Qingyou paused, then hugged Song Chang lightly, her voice soft. “I’ll do my best to live a long life, Uncle Chang. Don’t be sad.”

Her words were light, and as the breeze blew, her voice seemed to drift away with the wind.

As a servant, Song Chang rarely overstepped, but today he couldn’t restrain himself. Like a family elder, he patted Song Qingyou gently on the back. “Your illness will be cured, Miss.”