Chapter 78: Jealousy

The Jiang family, as the top elite clan of Binhai, owned an estate that spanned over ten thousand square meters. The backyard held an immense garden, and it took a full twenty minutes to walk from the front hall to the garden along the winding path.

Jiang Xun glanced at the man beside her, who radiated an aura that warned strangers to keep their distance, and said expressionlessly, “If you didn’t want to come, why did you agree in the first place?”

Fu Wenzhou’s back stiffened for a moment, but he quickly returned to normal, his face cold and silent.

Jiang Xun’s tone remained calm, “You wanted to use me to test her, but she doesn’t care in the least. Aren’t you just making yourself suffer for nothing?”

“Are you finished?” Fu Wenzhou’s gaze darkened, his tone cold as shards of ice.

Jiang Xun looked him over from head to toe, a subtle, cryptic smile in her eyes. “Fu Wenzhou, you and I have known each other since childhood. We haven’t seen much of each other these years, but we know each other well enough. How did I never notice you were so...”

She left the sentence hanging. In front of Song Qingyou, Fu Wenzhou was like an obedient puppy; in front of everyone else, he was a mad dog ready to bite anyone who got close. Jiang Xun didn’t want to provoke him further.

Noting the deepening gloom on his face, she paused, then said, “If you want to deal with someone like Song Qingyou, who weighs every gain and loss and always considers the cost first, you have to push harder. Be ruthless.”

Fu Wenzhou’s expression grew even uglier. “Who are you calling calculating?”

Jiang Xun, usually steady and composed, was truly at a loss for words now.

Liang Muchuan was completely right—this mad dog was absolutely lovesick.

His sense of priorities was nothing like a normal person’s.

Jiang Xun let out a low laugh. “Serves you right for being strung along, Fu Wenzhou.”

Fu Wenzhou glared at her with displeasure. “What exactly are you trying to say?”

Jiang Xun replied, “If you want to change things between you and Song Qingyou, if you want her to acknowledge you, it’s simple. Test how much you really mean to her.”

Fu Wenzhou frowned. “For example?”

Jiang Xun’s gaze slid past him, looking at something not far behind. The corners of her mouth lifted. “For example, make her jealous.”

As she finished speaking, she stepped closer to Fu Wenzhou, moving so near that, from behind, they would appear to be kissing.

Fu Wenzhou shoved her away abruptly, his voice so cold it seemed to freeze the air. “Jiang Xun, are you looking for death?”

Jiang Xun’s tone was unreadable. “I’m helping you. If things go well with her, remember to give me a few of the Fu Group’s projects when I move to Beijing.”

Fu Wenzhou said impatiently, “Stay away from me.”

Jiang Xun’s expression didn’t change, but inwardly she cursed him an idiot.

A cold wind swept through the back path of the garden. Fu Wenzhou’s brow furrowed deeply. Qingyou’s down jacket was still in the car; she was so lightly dressed, would she be cold?

The thought of Song Qingyou being cold made him want to leave immediately.

Fu Wenzhou turned on his heel and strode back, his face still cold, but when he reached the front hall he was told that Song Qingyou had already left.

He was stunned—she hadn’t even waited for him?

Fu Wenzhou’s eyes darkened, shadowy and unfathomable.

At the gates of the Jiang estate.

Song Chang sat in the driver’s seat and coughed lightly. “Why didn’t young Master Fu come out with you?”

Song Qingyou’s eyes were cool, her voice even colder. “He’s not coming.”

“Should we go, then?”

Song Qingyou didn’t answer. She gazed at the vast estate before her, her expression growing even colder.

Song Chang wasn’t sure whether to leave or wait, but since Miss hadn’t told him to drive, he supposed they weren’t leaving yet.

Fortunately, after just a few minutes, a tall figure appeared at the gates.

Song Chang hurriedly said, “Miss, young Master Fu is coming out.”

But Song Qingyou suddenly spoke. “Uncle Chang, drive.”

“What?” Song Chang was momentarily taken aback. For some reason, he felt Miss was acting differently than usual. Having served at Song Qingyou’s side for years, he’d long since learned her ways.

Whenever she was angry, her voice turned even colder.

Though the difference was slight, Song Chang could always sense it. He suspected that Miss and young Master Fu had quarreled.

Song Qingyou’s brows knitted, the frustration in her chest growing heavier. In her mind, she couldn’t shake the image of the two embracing and kissing in the garden.

A sudden pain stabbed her heart. She clutched her chest and repeated coldly, “Drive.”

Not daring to disobey, Song Chang started the car just as Fu Wenzhou was rushing toward them.

Alas, she’d waited for him, but just as he arrived, she left.

Song Chang sighed and glanced at the pitiful young Master Fu in the rearview mirror.

The car sped away into the cold wind, leaving behind a trail of exhaust. Fu Wenzhou stood frozen in place, unmoving, the biting northern wind lashing his face, though he seemed not to feel it at all.

Song Qingyou was wracked with coughs in the car, as if her very organs might come up, the medicine she’d taken offering no relief. Song Chang grew frantic, unable to understand how she’d suddenly fallen so ill when she’d been fine just moments before.

“I’ll call young Master Fu,” Song Chang said anxiously. Over these past days, he’d formed the habit: whenever Miss felt unwell, he’d inform young Master Fu. It seemed that as long as he was around, her heart condition rarely acted up.

Song Qingyou, dizzy from coughing, temples throbbing, still managed to refuse between ragged breaths, “Don’t... tell... him...”

There was nothing Song Chang could do but drive faster, determined to get her back to the hotel as soon as possible.

Song Qingyou lay curled up on the bed, her heart spasming painfully, struggling for air. Never had she felt the air so thin.

Song Chang wanted to call a doctor, but Song Qingyou wouldn’t allow it.

He knew, in truth, that a doctor could do nothing for her illness.

Song Qingyou’s face was frighteningly pale, her fingertips white as she clutched the sheets, her coughing never ceasing, one fit following another.

In a daze, she heard hurried footsteps approaching.

Song Qingyou closed her eyes, her voice icy. “Get... out...”