Chapter 39: Miscarriage

"Song Qingyou!"

Song Qingyou had just stepped out of the restroom on the second floor when she heard a desperate, hoarse voice shouting behind her.

She frowned slightly, unwilling to respond, and continued walking forward.

Lin Miaomiao saw that Song Qingyou was acting as if she hadn't heard her at all and immediately dashed toward her like a madwoman, grabbing her slender, fragile arm.

Her eyes were wild with a crazed intensity. "You just can't stand seeing me and Ting Shen happy, so you ruined our wedding on purpose today! You were the one who leaked those photos, weren't you!"

Song Qingyou winced at the pain of Lin Miaomiao's grip and turned to her with a cold gaze. "Let go."

Instead of letting go, Lin Miaomiao only tightened her hold. "You ruined me, so I’ll ruin you too!"

Song Qingyou pressed a hand to her lips and began coughing violently, tears welling at the corners of her eyes from the effort.

Her patience at its end, she pried Lin Miaomiao’s fingers away with force, her voice icy and clear. "I simply gave you a taste of your own medicine. Besides, I helped you collect evidence of your husband’s affair. You should be thanking me."

"You ruined my wedding, and you think I should thank you?" Lin Miaomiao’s face twisted with spite, then abruptly broke into a laugh.

Song Qingyou had no intention of reasoning with someone like Lin Miaomiao and turned to leave.

Lin Miaomiao glared at the slight figure ahead of her—the staircase lay just beyond. If she fell from there, she might not die, but she’d surely be crippled.

In Lin Miaomiao’s pitch-black eyes, the world’s deepest malice and hatred brewed. "Song Qingyou, you half-dead wretch, you should’ve gone to hell long ago!"

With that, she suddenly lunged at Song Qingyou, her eyes full of vicious intent.

A sharp gust whipped past from behind. Song Qingyou paused for a fraction of a second and quickly sidestepped.

Lin Miaomiao missed her target and went tumbling uncontrollably down the stairs, rolling over the steps before crashing to the ground below. Crimson blood blossomed beneath her, staining the floor.

"Ah!" Lin Miaomiao curled up in pain, and when she saw the spreading blood, she let out a shrill scream.

Song Qingyou stood at the landing, momentarily stunned.

The commotion was so loud that nearly everyone was drawn over. When they saw Lin Miaomiao lying in a pool of blood, they were all shocked, and chaos erupted.

Fu Wenzhou was the first to arrive. Ignoring Lin Miaomiao on the floor, he hurried up the stairs in a few strides and took Song Qingyou’s wrist, scanning her from head to toe with a tense expression. "Are you alright? Did that lunatic hurt you?"

Song Qingyou shook her head slightly, her gaze settling on Lin Miaomiao, now surrounded by the crowd.

Just now, she had only instinctively dodged; she hadn’t expected Lin Miaomiao to fall, much less that she would lose her child as a result...

Fu Wenzhou pulled her into his embrace, his broad frame shielding her as he murmured gently, "Don’t look. You’re ill, you shouldn’t see blood. It’s bad luck."

Song Qingyou’s lashes trembled. For the first time, she didn’t push Fu Wenzhou away in front of so many people.

Someone in the crowd dialed for an ambulance. Qin You, realizing her grandson would lose his inheritance, wept bitterly, while Fu Changlin stood by with a dark expression.

Fu Tingshen rushed forward to cradle Lin Miaomiao, emotion suppressed deep in his eyes. "Don’t worry, the ambulance will be here any minute!"

Lin Miaomiao clung to his sleeve as he carried her, her gaze sweeping over Song Qingyou with a flash of venomous hatred.

This child was already diagnosed with Down syndrome; she had never planned to keep it. She’d been waiting for the right moment to feign a miscarriage—now she could pin it all on Song Qingyou!

A vicious, triumphant smile flickered across Lin Miaomiao’s lips, gone in an instant.

A tear slid down, clinging to her lower lash, making her appear both aggrieved and pitiful. "It was Song Qingyou who pushed me—it was her, she killed our child!"

Her light accusation instantly cast Song Qingyou into a maelstrom of public opinion.

All eyes turned to her—some suspicious, some contemptuous, some angry, some incredulous.

But unsurprisingly, the blame fell squarely on her.

"How could she be so cruel, pushing a pregnant woman down the stairs out of jealousy?"

"I never thought the youngest daughter of the Song family could be so vicious, even going after a child!"

"She always seemed so delicate and gentle, but secretly she’s so…"

"Tsk tsk, and she’s hugging her husband’s nephew right out in the open. Who knows if they were already involved during the marriage? Shameless."

Fu Tingshen heard it all—the mention of an affair during the marriage stung like a slap.

He glared at Song Qingyou, wounded and angry. "What did Miaomiao ever do to you for you to hurt her like this? Do you realize how fragile her health is? She’ll never be able to have children again. You didn’t just kill our only child—you robbed her of motherhood for life! Song Qingyou, how utterly heartless can you be!"

Lin Miaomiao gave a smug smile, snuggling closer to Fu Tingshen, her gaze at Song Qingyou full of spiteful provocation.

Song Qingyou’s eyes were icy pale. Whatever guilt she might have felt for dodging and causing Lin Miaomiao’s miscarriage vanished. She spoke quietly, "I didn’t push her."

"You did it but won’t admit it? I’m truly disappointed in you!" Fu Tingshen looked as if he’d been betrayed to the core.

Fu Wenzhou’s face was cold as he spoke. "And what right do you have to be disappointed in her?"

An elder from the Fu family stepped forward to scold him. "Wenzhou, everyone saw Song Qingyou push her down the stairs. Stop defending her. Besides, Tingshen is family—why are you siding with an outsider?"

A chilling smile curved Fu Wenzhou’s lips. "Oh? Then I’d like to know—who, exactly, saw it?"

His gaze swept coolly over the crowd, and no one dared step forward.

The Fu family elder, angered by his arrogance, snapped, "Fu Wenzhou! Our family’s heir is gone and you’re still defending that woman!"

"Even if the emperor himself came, I’d still protect her," Fu Wenzhou retorted with a cold laugh. "If I recall, your useless son is still leeching off the Fu Corporation, isn’t he?"

The elder fell silent at once.

Fu Wenzhou scoffed. "Don’t take yourself so seriously. I call you uncle out of courtesy—without that, you’re nothing to me."

The old man’s beard bristled with fury, but there was nothing he could do.

Outside, the sound of an ambulance approached. Fu Tingshen carried Lin Miaomiao into the vehicle, and the wedding had utterly descended into farce.

The crowd began to disperse.

Fu Wenzhou lifted Song Qingyou in his arms, his hand supporting her beneath her hips, holding her as if she were a child.

Song Qingyou was startled and instinctively tried to struggle free. The man gave her a light swat on the rear. "Stop squirming."

She immediately settled down. Only after he set her on the hotel’s large bed did she softly say, "It wasn’t me."

For reasons she couldn’t explain, she didn’t want Fu Wenzhou to misunderstand her.

Fu Wenzhou poured her a cup of hot water, knelt in front of her, and lifted her chin with one hand, forcing her to meet his gaze.

His voice was low and hoarse. "Even if you had pushed her, so what? As long as I’m here, none of them can touch you."

Song Qingyou’s breath caught in her throat.

Did he not believe her?