Chapter 26: Vicious

After leaving the banquet, Song Qingyou headed straight to where Uncle Chang had parked the car.

But she didn’t see Uncle Chang; instead, she saw Fu Wenzhou.

The man leaned against the car, his tailored suit accentuating every advantage of his physique. Under the lights, he bit his cigarette, one hand in his pocket, his head slightly bowed as if lost in thought. Pale smoke curled upward, making his expression even harder to read.

Quite a few women nearby glanced at him. A man like Fu Wenzhou, just his appearance alone was enough to make countless women flock to him.

Someone like him had no reason to waste his time on someone like her.

Song Qingyou’s eyelids drooped ever so slightly, and she let out a faint, barely audible sigh.

She watched as a wealthy young lady sashayed over to strike up a conversation. Instinctively, Song Qingyou stepped into a quiet, inconspicuous corner, silently observing.

Fu Wenzhou wore a cold, detached smile, the very picture of a charming rogue—yet distant and aloof.

Whatever the girl said, he shifted his cigarette from left to right, bent forward slightly, and murmured something. The girl instantly flushed with anger and stormed off.

Song Qingyou: “……”

So childish and vile.

“Who told you to come here today?”

Just then, Song Yuan’s voice came from behind, his tone full of displeasure and disgust: “It’s Madam Ruan’s birthday. Are you here to bring bad luck, you sickly thing?”

The familiar tone—sharp and heartless—never changed.

Song Qingyou turned to look. Song Yuan stepped out of the bright lights, impeccably dressed; wherever he walked, he belonged to the world of society’s elite.

But in Song Qingyou’s eyes, all she saw was meanness and ugliness.

She had once truly hoped to find a father’s love in him, but disappointment upon disappointment had crushed every beautiful expectation within her.

She no longer hoped to feel familial affection from him, yet he repeatedly made her realize just how foolish her once-hopeful self had been.

She replied, emotionless, “Since when did you start meddling in the Ruan family’s affairs?”

Song Yuan snapped, “What kind of attitude is that?!”

Song Qingyou smiled lightly, “Dad, today is a good day for the Ruan family. Are you sure you want to lecture me here?”

Song Yuan was momentarily speechless.

He lowered his voice, dripping with disgust: “You know it’s someone else’s celebration, yet you come to disgrace the family? Did you see Fu Tingshen just now? You, the Song family’s daughter, were pushed aside by some low-class nobody. Useless!”

“Fu Tingshen told me you’re entangled with his nephew, Fu Wenzhou, and I didn’t believe him. But I saw it myself—flirting with Fu Wenzhou right in front of Madam Ruan!”

“Shameless! Aren’t you embarrassed enough?”

Song Qingyou coughed twice, her face pale, but anger flushed faintly at the corners of her eyes.

She was just about to speak when her shoulder was suddenly weighed down.

The faint scent of tobacco enveloped her. Above her, Fu Wenzhou’s cool voice sounded: “Oh? I’m curious—what about me embarrasses President Song?”

Song Qingyou hadn’t expected him to come over. Instinctively, she pushed him away, frowning, “What are you doing here? Go away.”

Song Yuan’s words were always harsh, but she’d learned to let them slide. Eventually, she’d make him pay for what he said. But she didn’t want Fu Wenzhou to hear such unpleasant things.

Fu Wenzhou was unfazed by her push. He flicked the ash from his cigarette, took a slow drag, and his lips curled into a chilly, sinister smile.

“Everyone says I’m your pet dog. Since that’s the case, when you’re bullied, it’s only right I do what a loyal dog should. Surely… President Song can understand?”

He looked at Song Yuan, those ink-dark eyes glinting with cold light. Song Yuan’s expression shifted. Seeing Song Qingyou half nestled in Fu Wenzhou’s arms, he clenched his teeth and stared at her: “Song Qingyou, have you no shame? Fooling around with your husband’s nephew? You’ve disgraced the Song family entirely!”

Song Qingyou’s breath trembled. The next moment, Fu Wenzhou kicked Song Yuan straight out!

A loud crash drew everyone’s attention.

Not only the bystanders, but even Song Qingyou was stunned.

Li Ruo screamed and rushed over to help Song Yuan up, sobbing, “Husband, are you alright? How could you—how could you hit someone!”

“Sorry, slippery foot,” Fu Wenzhou apologized with no sincerity whatsoever, extinguishing his cigarette in the nearby vase. Then, his tone suddenly sharpened: “However…”

“I have a bad temper. I can’t stand to hear a single word against her. I hope you’ll mind your tongue next time.”

Song Yuan clutched his abdomen, unable to stand from the pain. Hearing this, he fainted on the spot!

Amid the murmurs of the crowd, Fu Wenzhou led Song Qingyou to the car.

Once the door closed, all sounds were shut out.

Song Qingyou stared at Fu Wenzhou without much expression. He leaned over, thoughtfully buckled her seatbelt, his face even darker than Song Yuan’s after being kicked.

He’d been the one to hit someone, yet somehow he looked more displeased.

The car drove a long way before Song Qingyou finally recovered from the sudden turn of events.

Thinking of Song Yuan’s humiliation just now, a faint smile flickered in her eyes.

Though she didn’t approve of Fu Wenzhou’s public outburst, Song Yuan’s disgrace brought her a secret satisfaction.

She kept her composure, face taut, and looked at the brooding man beside her: “Where’s Uncle Chang?”

“He left,” Fu Wenzhou replied coldly.

She couldn’t tell what he was angry about.

Song Qingyou guessed it might be Song Yuan’s words, so she said, “He’s not wrong, you know. Getting too close to my ex-husband’s nephew is bound to attract gossip. You should—”

“Why did you give away the gift I gave you?” Fu Wenzhou interrupted, his face tense. As he waited at a red light, he turned to look at her, his eyes deep and swirling, as if they could draw her in.

Song Qingyou instinctively looked away, but he seized her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

His voice was low and tender, yet dangerous: “Qingyou, unless you explain yourself tonight…”

He didn’t finish, but his lowered eyes fixed on her bloodless lips like a wolf eyeing prey, full of threat.

Song Qingyou shrank back, “I only used the gift box you gave me. I kept the dress carefully.”

Hearing she’d kept the dress, Fu Wenzhou’s features softened a little, but he still wasn’t pleased: “You shouldn’t give the gift box away either.”

Song Qingyou frowned, “If it’s so much trouble, don’t give me anything in the future. I’m afraid if I ruin the dress, you’ll blame me too. The light’s green—drive.”

“That won’t happen.” Fu Wenzhou released her, his fingers lingering on her skin before starting the car.

Her health was poor, her body temperature lower than most; her skin was smooth, soft, and slightly cool, like a piece of cold jade—hard to let go.

Continuing, Fu Wenzhou said, “If the dress is ruined, I’ll buy another. But if I give you something, you can’t treat it lightly.”

Song Qingyou sighed softly and turned to look out the window.

Suddenly, Fu Wenzhou pulled the car over by the roadside.