Chapter 9: Love-Struck

Since that day when they parted on bad terms in the car, Fu Wenzhou had vanished for more than half a month, granting Song Qingyou a rare period of peace and quiet. During this time, she had been busy with the venture capital firm, almost having to visit Yan Shaoqin every day.

Sitting in the president's office of the Yan Group, Song Qingyou finished reading the contract in her hand and signed her name at the bottom.

Yan Shaoqin, fingers interlaced and unhurried, asked, "Aren't you going to review it again?"

Song Qingyou gave a distant smile. "I trust your character, Mr. Yan. In the future, apart from major decisions that require my consent, you may take charge of the rest.”

Yan Shaoqin looked at her captivating face. "I'm actually quite curious. You’re both from the Song family—why are you crossing your second brother?”

Song Qingyou’s expression paused for a moment, but she replied smoothly, "You must be joking, Mr. Yan. I’m simply indulging a whim by starting a small company.”

"Small company?" Yan Shaoqin clicked his tongue. "Investing over two billion, and the first move is to buy the most valuable building on Hesheng Commercial Street. I’ve never seen a small company make such a grand entrance.”

Hesheng Commercial Street was the most prosperous financial district in the capital, gathering the city’s elite and the most powerful families, whose businesses were all rooted there. Five years ago, Song Chen had taken over D.K. Capital under the Song family, and in the past two years, his momentum was unstoppable. Now Song Qingyou was investing heavily to place her company right across from his, working on similar projects. Yan Shaoqin couldn't help but speculate.

Song Qingyou looked up. "We’re just business partners. It's best not to pry into personal matters.”

She had eyes that seemed filled with affection, and when she focused on someone, it always gave the illusion of being cherished. Yan Shaoqin was caught off guard for a moment before regaining his composure. "You’ve invested so much money and you’re willing to hand the company over to me like this?”

The premise of their cooperation was that Song Qingyou would be a shareholder but remain behind the scenes, meaning that, on the surface, the company belonged to Yan Shaoqin alone. Except for major decisions, he had complete authority.

Song Qingyou’s eyes curved enchantingly. "Six years ago, you invested in a construction project overseas that won a CRB award, but the bridge collapsed in less than half a year due to structural flaws. I heard the death toll was in the hundreds. A year later, you abandoned your overseas career and returned home. Am I correct?”

Her voice was light, and the casual smile on Yan Shaoqin’s lips slowly faded. After a long pause, he looked at her, a storm gathering in his eyes. "That incident’s reports were all suppressed. How did you find out?”

Song Qingyou adjusted her shawl, her gaze shimmering. "No need to always interrogate to the bitter end, Mr. Yan. I can just as easily pretend I know nothing.”

Yan Shaoqin had grown up learning the ways of business from his father, and his social skills had reached perfection. He smiled with gentlemanly reserve. "It’s Yan Miao’s good fortune to be your friend.”

Song Qingyou raised an eyebrow; no matter how she heard it, that sounded like sarcasm.

She didn’t linger in the Yan Group offices, and rose to take her leave.

"I’ll see you out," Yan Shaoqin offered.

Song Qingyou was about to decline, but he interrupted, "It’s only proper to see off my future business partner."

She didn’t refuse again; after all, her company would depend on him, and it wouldn’t do to make relations too tense.

As soon as she stepped outside, Song Qingyou felt a chill. She frowned, pressing a handkerchief to her lips as she coughed repeatedly.

Suddenly, warmth draped over her shoulders. She glanced sideways and saw a suit jacket had been placed on her. Her brows furrowed slightly.

The scent of unfamiliar cologne filled her nose—one she disliked.

Song Qingyou took off the jacket and handed it back to Yan Shaoqin. "Thank you, but I’m not cold.”

He raised an eyebrow, draped the jacket over his arm, and said nothing.

Just then, Song Chang drove up. Song Qingyou said goodbye and got into the car.

But once inside, she couldn’t shake a vague unease. She glanced back—nothing but emptiness all around, nothing out of the ordinary.

"Is something wrong, Miss?" Song Chang asked.

She shook her head. "It's nothing."

This strange feeling had lasted for over a week. She kept thinking someone was following her, but every time she looked, there was nothing.

She could only reassure herself that it was probably just fatigue.

Evening descended on the Nightfall Bar.

Nightfall was unlike other bars. It operated on a membership basis, and its clientele was almost exclusively the capital’s elite. Privacy was paramount—no indiscreet staff would ever leak what happened here.

In a private room, the mingled scents of alcohol, cigarettes, and women’s perfume created a decadent tableau.

Women with heavy makeup clung bonelessly to the men.

"Get lost."

The deep voice, edged with impatience and chill, radiated an intimidating aura.

The women dared not approach further, awkwardly retreating.

Gu Bai waved his hand. "Alright, you can all go now."

Reluctantly, the women cast one last glance at the man in the corner who had spent the entire night drinking, oblivious to their charms, and finally left.

Gu Bai crossed his legs, eyes fixed on the man in the corner. When the other opened yet another bottle, Gu Bai finally reached out and snatched it away. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"

"Fu Wenzhou, is it really worth it, all this for a woman?"

"The youngest daughter of the Song family divorced him and still doesn’t want him—do you think it’s worth it?" It was Xu Zezhan of Yunrui and Liang Muchuan of Huakong speaking, the former exasperated, the latter accustomed to the scene.

They had all grown up together in the same compound, their bond deep. The story between Fu Wenzhou and Song Qingyou was no secret among them.

Fu Wenzhou ignored them, grabbing the bottle from Gu Bai and drinking deeply.

Liang Muchuan tapped the ash from his cigarette. "We’ve been drinking with you for more than half a month. Are you really planning to drink yourself into the ICU?"

Xu Zezhan chimed in, "Even if you drank yourself to death, she might not spare you a glance. Why put yourself through this?"

Fu Wenzhou’s hand froze, and the empty bottle banged down on the table. His tall figure slumped into the sofa, and he slowly raised his hand to cover his eyes.

His voice was hoarse, dark. "She doesn’t want me anymore."

The three exchanged glances and all shrugged helplessly.

Of course—every word came back to Song Qingyou.

Liang Muchuan, the eldest and the most composed, kicked Fu Wenzhou’s foot. "She’s working with Yan Shaoqin—haven’t you wondered why?"

Fu Wenzhou straightened, lips pressed together in a thin line.

Seeing this, Liang Muchuan knew he understood perfectly well. "She set up her office across from Song Chen’s just to spite him. Yan Shaoqin is ruthless, profit-driven, sly as a fox, and has deep connections. If it comes down to it, Song Chen may not be his match. I think she’s shrewd to have Yan Shaoqin take the lead in this feud."

Fu Wenzhou’s long lashes cast shadows, hiding his emotions. "I could help her with whatever she wants to do, but she didn’t even ask me—just cut me out. There’s simply no place for me in her world."

"That’s because she doesn’t want to drag you into this!" Xu Zezhan retorted.

Fu Wenzhou shook his head and collapsed back on the sofa, his voice low and rough. "She smiled at Yan Shaoqin today." And she wore his jacket.

Liang Muchuan sneered. "Have you gone completely love-crazy?"

Gu Bai added, "He’s ruthless with everyone else, but the moment it’s about Song Qingyou he turns into a different person! It’s like he’s possessed!"

"Everyone meets their match," said Xu Zezhan.