Chapter 94: Leaving Fu Wenzhou

E.li is a top-tier luxury brand, with jewelry as its main business. Tonight’s banquet not only gathered industry insiders but also attracted numerous celebrities to walk the red carpet. The event was set in Qiong Bay, with white sails among the trees and shimmering waters. Taking the season into account, the main venue was not arranged by the sea but rather within the Suhai Manor—ancient and solemn, elegant and tranquil.

Unlike the quiet outside the courtyard, the interior beyond the corridor brimmed with lively voices. Fu Wenzhou moved even faster than Song Chang, stepping out of the car. His long legs were striking, his trousers perfectly creased and unwrinkled, shoulders broad, waist narrow, his presence commanding.

The man turned slightly, bent down, and opened the rear car door. Song Qingyou’s gaze lingered briefly on his face before falling to his slender, well-defined hands.

The moonlight was at its fullest, cold and bright, spilling into the courtyard like a frost-filled chamber. The woman stepped through the frost, her cool aloofness as distant as snow on silent mountains. Her eyes were strikingly beautiful, brows and features as if painted, her face’s contours clear and smooth—like the strokes of an Eastern ink painting, refined to perfection.

Such an astonishingly beautiful face, yet the man beside her stood perfectly at ease, the two together entirely harmonious. As soon as they appeared, the crowd’s attention was drawn to them.

Song Qingyou drew her shawl around her, her jet-black hair pressed against her indigo cheongsam. As soon as her feet touched the ground, a thick down coat was draped over her shoulders.

She glanced up slightly. “No longer angry?”

Fu Wenzhou snorted coldly. “Still angry.”

…Why is this little wolf so hard to appease?

Song Qingyou said nothing more. Fu Wenzhou had previously promised not to enter with her as a couple; though rumors about their relationship abounded, speculation and confirmation were two different things. After putting the coat on her, Fu Wenzhou went elsewhere, not accompanying her inside.

Even so, the fact that they arrived together in the same car still drew plenty of gossip.

“Are those two really together?”

“Probably. Didn’t Fu Wenzhou personally send his little uncle’s family away? Wasn’t it all because of her?”

“Tsk, she’s got that look—both pure and alluring. No wonder the mad dog won’t let go.”

“Hah, an aunt and her nephew—aren’t they afraid of being laughed at?”

Most of the looks cast Song Qingyou’s way brimmed with disdain and contempt, and a few with the predatory gaze of hunters. In Beijing’s elite circles, power and status rule. She was still the least favored daughter of the Song family, and without Fu Wenzhou, the mad dog, to shield her, alone in the courtyard, she was easily dismissed by the crowd.

Song Qingyou’s fingers shifted the prayer beads, her eyes cool, her demeanor calm as she walked further inside.

The head of E.li’s Greater China region was in the middle of the reception, chatting amiably with guests. Catching sight of Song Qingyou, he quickly set down his glass, approached with a warm smile, and opened his arms for a hug. “Long time no see, Miss Song.”

“Long time indeed.” Out of courtesy, Song Qingyou returned the embrace lightly. “It’s been a while, James.”

Not far away—

A sharp crash.

A wine glass shattered.

Fu Wenzhou’s hand was clenched into a fist, alarming those seated nearby. Gu Bai quickly pried open his fingers, revealing glass shards embedded in his palm, blood seeping out—a ghastly sight. “Are you out of your mind?!”

Xu Zezhan frowned as well; he hardly needed to ask why Fu Wenzhou had lost control. “It’s just a foreign custom to hug. Why such a reaction? Isn’t that normal?”

Fu Wenzhou’s gaze was cold and dangerous, his voice even lower than the depths of a well. “Normal my ass!”

Gu Bai looked at Fu Wenzhou’s bloodied hand, unease growing within him. Was Fu Wenzhou’s possessiveness toward Song Qingyou too intense—verging on obsession?

If Song Qingyou were the kind willing to be sheltered like a delicate flower, it might be one thing—but she wasn’t.

He glanced at the man’s face, darker than a storm, and, for the first time, grew serious. “Fu Wenzhou, I’ve never interfered in your matters with Song Qingyou, but tonight I have to say—she’s not a parasitic vine you can control at will. Tonight, you nearly wanted to murder James just for a polite hug. Have you considered that if she wins the struggle for Song family property, she’ll be meeting even more people? What will you do then—lock her up at home?”

A faint flush colored the corners of Fu Wenzhou’s eyes; his inky, cold gaze radiated a dangerous depth.

Xu Zezhan took a slow drag on his cigarette. “Don’t worry—he wouldn’t dare.”

Caught by Gu Bai’s questioning look, he continued blandly, “Remember when Song Qingyou left him in the pouring rain and married Fu Tingshen? For three years, what did he ever do? Well, maybe he wanted to, but if Song Qingyou so much as frowned or coughed, he immediately backed down. Afraid of his wife to that extent, what are you even worried about?”

Gu Bai: “…”

Xu Zezhan flicked his ash, glancing at Fu Wenzhou, whose expression was black as coal. “See what’s around his neck?”

Gu Bai examined him, puzzled. “Nothing?”

“Dog leash,” Xu Zezhan scoffed lightly. “Tied by Song Qingyou herself.”

Gu Bai swallowed hard, quietly giving Xu Zezhan a thumbs-up. “You’ve got guts, man.”

Fu Wenzhou shot a fierce glare at Xu Zezhan, lips curling coldly, then kicked him.

Xu Zezhan grunted in pain, clutching his knee, cigarette between his lips, speech slurred. “Damn! What the hell was that for?”

“You were asking for it,” Fu Wenzhou replied icily.

Xu Zezhan retorted, “Hit a nerve, did I? Embarrassed, are we?”

Fu Wenzhou’s eyes were chilling. “Say another word.”

Xu Zezhan, fearful of another kick, backed down. “Fine, fine, I’ll shut up.”

—

Though Song Qingyou kept up her conversation with James about work, her gaze occasionally drifted to another part of the room.

James raised an eyebrow. “Miss Song, is there someone important to you at tonight’s banquet?”

Song Qingyou was briefly startled, then smiled faintly. “Why do you ask?”

James clicked his tongue. “The last few times we met for business, you were never this distracted.”

For a moment, Song Qingyou was taken aback. Was she really being so obvious? She was just… a little worried whether the little wolf’s temper had cooled.

James caught her expression immediately. “Miss Song, I’m glad to see you care for someone.”

“Oh?”

James explained, “You were always beautiful, but previously, you were like the moon in the sky—admirable, but distant. This time, you seem… how do you say it here? More grounded? More like a real person.”

Born abroad, James struggled with adjectives, but Song Qingyou understood his meaning.

Only after James left did she gradually collect her thoughts.

Someone called her from behind.

“Song Qingyou, you’re here too?” Ruan Yinyin sneered, derision in her eyes.

Song Qingyou replied calmly, “Miss Ruan, I was invited as well.”

Ruan Yinyin folded her arms, her expression disdainful. “A neglected youngest daughter like you at an E.li event? The brand must be on the verge of collapse.”

Song Qingyou frowned slightly. For the sake of Ruan Yinyin being the old Madam Ruan’s granddaughter, she chose not to argue. “Do you need something, Miss Ruan? If not, I’ll be on my way.”

“Wait.” Ruan Yinyin eyed her up and down, jealousy flickering in her gaze. How could a sickly woman have such a good figure? Shouldn’t she be all skin and bones?

With an air of superiority, Ruan Yinyin said, “Song Qingyou, stay away from Fu Wenzhou. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Song Qingyou paused at that, her lips curving in a faint, indifferent smile. “And what right do you have to say that to me?”

Ruan Yinyin declared, “Families like ours—marriage alliances are inevitable. My grandmother intends to propose this to Fu Wenzhou. He’s only temporarily infatuated with you, but in the end, the one by his side will be me.”

Song Qingyou’s expression was unreadable. “Is that so?”

Ruan Yinyin, angered by Song Qingyou’s indifference, snapped, “Song Qingyou! Take a good look at yourself. You’re half in the grave already and you think you can compete with me for Fu Wenzhou? If you know what’s good for you, you’ll back off. Otherwise…”

“Are you finished?” Song Qingyou coughed lightly, looking up. “If so, I’m going.”

Ruan Yinyin was a Ruan. Besides, the old Madam Ruan had helped her before, and much of Shiyu’s current business was tied to the Ruan family.

There was no need to provoke them for a fleeting satisfaction.

Song Qingyou had always weighed the pros and cons—she never did anything where the risks outweighed the benefits.