Chapter 60: Fu Wenzhou, You’ve Really Grown Bold

Song Yuan's face turned pale with fury. "You unfilial child, you wretch! I should have smothered you in your cradle! The entire Song Corporation belongs to me, Song Yuan. Who do you think you are, daring to throw me out? What a joke!"

Song Wei was delighted to see Song Qingyou being scolded. With Qingyou now completely severed from the Song family, she would finally be the sole heiress of the Song Corporation. As for Song Qingyou, once cast out, she would be even less than an ant in the capital.

She wanted so badly to laugh, but the atmosphere forced her to suppress her smile and instead put on a tearful expression.

"Sister, why must you oppose Dad? If you just abandon Fu Wenzhou and return to the Song family, I’m sure he’ll forgive you." Her words were nothing but cold irony, deliberately mocking her.

Song Qingyou raised her eyes carelessly. "Don’t call me sister. It disgusts me."

Song Wei’s expression changed, angered. "You—!"

"Don’t forget about the five hundred million tonight," Song Qingyou said coolly, then walked out of the hospital room, unwilling to stay a second longer.

Even the air in this room made her sick.

Song Wei glared viciously at Qingyou’s departing figure, when Song Yuan’s voice came from behind, demanding, "What did she mean by five hundred million?"

"It’s just a joke," Song Wei replied, turning and wiping away imaginary tears, her voice soft and weak. "Dad, are you really going to cast Sister out of the family?"

Song Yuan stared at his arm, unable to swallow his anger no matter what. He couldn’t deal with Fu Wenzhou, but crushing Song Qingyou would be easier than crushing an ant.

Outside the hospital room.

Fu Wenzhou leaned against the wall, a cigarette between his fingers, unlit.

When he saw her come out, he quickly tossed the unlit cigarette into the trash and strode toward Song Qingyou.

Song Chang was beside him, but quietly withdrew his step.

"Qing..." Fu Wenzhou began, but Song Qingyou swept past him without even a glance.

Fu Wenzhou’s heart sank, the curve of his lips slowly fading. He caught up to her. "Did Song Yuan do something to you? I knew I shouldn’t have let you stay alone with him! He never learns. Hah, maybe the lesson was too light this time, I—"

"What will you do?" Song Qingyou’s slender figure was upright as she stopped and looked back at him. "Are you planning to smash his legs with a hammer, or run him down with your car and end up in prison?"

Fu Wenzhou’s gaze darkened, his voice cold and hoarse. "A man like Song Yuan will only behave when he’s dead."

Song Qingyou almost laughed in exasperation, her face cold. "So, you truly want to be a murderer."

Fu Wenzhou stayed silent.

When he hit Song Yuan with his car, there was indeed a moment when the thought crossed his mind.

"I’m not that stupid. I wouldn’t do it myself. As long as it looks like an accident—"

"Fu Wenzhou!" Song Qingyou suddenly interrupted.

Fu Wenzhou’s dark eyes locked onto her, his voice husky. "Qingyou..."

"Don’t call me Qingyou." Song Qingyou drew a trembling breath. "I never imagined you were capable of this. The capital is a place governed by law. Do you think you can cover up a murder? So many people are watching for your misstep, eager to drag you down. The way you dealt with Zhang Song, others will deal with you the same way."

She looked at him. "I thought you were just mad, but I didn’t expect you to be not only a madman, but an idiot."

Her disappointment stabbed deeply into Fu Wenzhou’s eyes. He opened his mouth to explain, but in the end said nothing.

Only after Song Qingyou left with Song Chang and disappeared from his sight did he slam his fist into the wall, so hard that blood seeped from his knuckles.

Staring in the direction she’d gone, Fu Wenzhou clenched his fists tightly, his eyes blazing red.

—

Song Qingyou began coughing as soon as she got in the car, one cough after another, endless.

Song Chang anxiously found her medicine. "Please take your medicine first."

Song Qingyou tilted her head back to swallow it, but the coughing wouldn’t stop. Tears streamed from her eyes, her whole body trembling.

Song Chang could only wait helplessly at her side. After more than ten minutes, Qingyou finally regained a bit of composure.

She spoke in a hoarse voice, "Let’s go home, Uncle Chang."

Song Chang glanced toward the hospital entrance. "Aren’t we waiting for Young Master Fu?"

"No," Song Qingyou replied.

Song Chang sighed. "Actually, Young Master Fu is only worried about you. What you just said probably hurt him."

Song Qingyou covered her mouth, coughing a few more times. Her cheeks were pale, fragile as if she’d collapse at a gust of wind. "He can be mad, but he shouldn’t even have that thought, Uncle Chang. Only if I treat him this way will he know this makes me unhappy, and not do it."

Song Chang murmured, "I hope Young Master Fu understands it’s for his own good."

Her headache was severe, and Song Qingyou slowly closed her eyes.

She had plenty of ways to deal with Song Yuan; there was no need for such extreme measures.

She didn’t want to see Fu Wenzhou’s hands stained with blood.

—

Today, when she confronted him, the look in his eyes had terrified her.

In that moment, Song Qingyou believed that if she told him to kill Song Yuan, Fu Wenzhou would pick up a knife without hesitation.

She opened her eyes and let out a soft, mocking laugh. "Madman."

Song Chang didn’t hear clearly. "Miss, what did you say?"

"Nothing. Let’s go home," Song Qingyou replied quietly.

"Alright."

The hospital wasn’t far from Wutong Residence—just half an hour by car.

After arriving home, Song Qingyou washed up and lay on the rattan chair to rest. Only when she woke up, chilled in the middle of the night, did she go to bed. With Fu Wenzhou absent, her insomnia returned; she couldn’t fall asleep, tossing and turning until dawn before finally drifting off.

Early the next morning, she was awakened by her phone. The call was from Qingning.

"Song Shi took five hundred million in cash out of Song Corporation. To fill the gap, he’s sending the company’s core development project to Qingning, but the condition is that after signing, the funds must arrive within a week. But we..."

Song Qingyou checked her messages and indeed saw the transfer of five hundred million to her account, timestamped exactly eight o’clock last night.

There were also a series of missed calls, all from Song Wei.

Her phone was always on silent while she slept, so she hadn’t heard them. "What’s wrong?"

The manager replied awkwardly, "The SY investment funds have all been allocated to other projects. We currently only have fifteen million in liquid assets—there’s no way to meet Song Shi’s demand for five hundred million."

Song Qingyou said, "Transfer the five hundred million from my personal account."

"Ah?" The manager was stunned. Five hundred million in cash—his boss was truly wealthy! He quickly said, "Alright, President Song. I’ll arrange a signing with Song Shi then?"

"Mm."

After ending the call, Song Qingyou rubbed her brow, got out of bed, washed, and changed clothes. She had a doctor’s appointment today and couldn’t be late.

When she opened the door, she was taken aback.

Fu Wenzhou stood at the entrance, wrapped in a heavy coat. Beside him, the trash bin was filled with cigarette butts.