Chapter 127: Sleeping Apart

The house was illuminated by every light, bright as day.

Song Qingyou went upstairs to change her clothes, with Fu Wenzhou following closely behind. He tried to speak several times, only to be cut off by her cold, indifferent demeanor. As Song Qingyou stepped out of the master bedroom with her clothes, Fu Wenzhou panicked and grabbed her, his eyes fixed intently on her as he asked in a strained, obscure voice, "Where are you going?"

Song Qingyou looked down at her wrist held in his grip. "I think we both need some space to calm down. So, let’s start sleeping in separate rooms from tonight."

Her expression appeared calm, but the tremor in her voice betrayed the composure she was forcing. It was a brief tremor, too short for Fu Wenzhou to notice. The man’s eyes widened, and he felt a nameless, indescribable fear. In his memory, even during the years he had relentlessly pursued her, she had never spoken to him with such icy detachment.

Fu Wenzhou held onto her firmly, as if he could keep her there by force. "Why do we need space? What did I do? I told you, I didn't seek out that girl. You can't pin a crime on me that I didn't commit." He added, his voice trembling, "Youyou, you can't do this. You can't treat me like this..."

"I know," Song Qingyou said.

"What?"

Song Qingyou’s voice was very soft. "I know you wouldn't mistake me for someone else."

Fu Wenzhou hurriedly pressed her. "If you know that, then why are you acting this way? If it’s because of what happened during the day, I can apologize. If you want to work with SY, then go ahead. I’ve thought it over—work is work, and feelings are feelings; they can be kept separate."

"Was it that girl who taught you that?" Song Qingyou interrupted, her voice barely a whisper.

Fu Wenzhou paused, then nodded.

Song Qingyou smiled. "The things I spent years trying to teach you, you understood after just a few minutes of her talking to you?"

"I..." Fu Wenzhou began.

Song Qingyou pulled his hand away. "Get some rest. Goodnight."

The door was gently closed, leaving Fu Wenzhou standing there, lost and bewildered. His eyes were vacant and fearful, like a trapped beast that had lost its way home.

By the time dawn approached, Fu Wenzhou, dark circles under his eyes from a sleepless night, rose to make breakfast for Song Qingyou. He made a large spread, all of the things she usually liked to eat. When he estimated the time was right, he set the table. As she appeared at the top of the stairs, he spoke tentatively, "Sister, breakfast is ready."

Song Qingyou walked to the entryway to put on her shoes. Seeing her about to leave, Fu Wenzhou asked anxiously, "Are you not going to eat breakfast?"

Song Qingyou hadn't truly intended to ignore him completely. After a brief silence, she said, "You eat. The company has been very busy lately; I’ll just have Uncle Chang pick something up on the way."

"But I already made..." it.

The cold sound of the door closing was his only reply.

Song Qingyou truly had matters to attend to. She had spent the entire night drafting two project proposals; if Fu Wenzhou hadn't slept, she hadn't fared any better. Even in the car, she was constantly reviewing and revising, checking for any potential flaws.

Seeing her pale complexion, Uncle Chang asked with concern, "Did you not sleep at all last night?"

"I slept," she replied. She had, though not for more than two hours.

Uncle Chang asked in a low voice, "Are you... really not planning to cooperate with SY?"

"Yes," Song Qingyou replied coolly. "I thought about it last night. It's not impossible for the Fu Corporation to expand its industrial map. Although the process is cumbersome, there’s about a ten percent feasibility."

Uncle Chang looked at her in astonishment. "You spent all day yesterday and stayed up all night for that ten percent?"

Song Qingyou rubbed her tired eyes, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips, though it didn't reach her eyes. From yesterday noon until ten at night, she had finally managed to create a rough prototype of the proposal. She had originally thought that if Fu Wenzhou truly disliked her working with others, she would find the fastest, lowest-loss, and most stable way to form a partnership with the Fu Corporation. She had reasoned that if he couldn't understand, she could just compromise; at most, it would just be a little more exhausting. She hadn't expected that when she finally brought the proposal to him, he would tell her he had suddenly "thought it through"—convinced by a few words from another girl.

Song Qingyou’s fingertips went pale. She quickly looked up. "Uncle Chang, let's go to Maple Grove Garden."

"Maple Grove Garden?" Uncle Chang asked, surprised. "Are you going to see Elder Dong?"

"Yes."

Song Qingyou was trained in medicine herself; she knew her own physical condition all too well. Lately, she had clearly felt her heart palpitations increasing in frequency, and the symptoms of coughing up blood were becoming more severe. She checked the time; she had a site visit at one in the afternoon, so a trip to Maple Grove Garden should be feasible.

Elder Dong was a titan in the medical field, with students everywhere. Song Qingyou had once been her most promising pupil. But the moment she graduated from university, Song Qingyou gave up medicine. Because of this, Elder Dong hadn't contacted her for a year. It wasn't until Song Qingyou went to apologize in person that they reconnected.

Seeing Song Qingyou now, the first thing the elder did was check her pulse. Song Qingyou sat on the sofa, smiling softly. "Teacher, please don't frown so deeply, or I'll start to think my time is running out."

Her joke eased the tense, oppressive atmosphere. Elder Dong looked at her, suppressing a sigh. Song Qingyou hesitated, then smiled. "You can just tell me directly, Teacher."

Elder Dong didn't speak plainly, merely writing out two prescriptions and instructing Song Qingyou to take them twice a day. By the scent, Song Qingyou knew they were tonics meant to sustain her heart. As they parted, Elder Dong handed her a small medicine bottle. "Take one pill every half month; it will protect your heart."

Song Qingyou was speechless. "This medicine... must be very rare."

Elder Dong waved a hand. "Medicine exists to treat illnesses; there is no such thing as rare or common."

Song Qingyou’s throat felt bitter. "Thank you, Teacher. I have been such a burden to you for so many years..."

Elder Dong put on a stern face. "I am not just your teacher; I am a doctor. As a doctor, saving lives is my duty."

Song Qingyou said sincerely, "But I still want to thank you."

Elder Dong waved her off again.

After bidding farewell to Elder Dong, Song Qingyou went to the construction site for an inspection, followed by a major meeting that lasted until after nine in the evening. As she stepped out of the company, a cold wind hit her. Before she could register the chill, she was pulled into an embrace, a tall frame shielding her from the biting breeze.

Song Qingyou frowned slightly. "Let go."

Fu Wenzhou acted as if he hadn't heard her. After ushering her into the car, he stepped on the gas, giving her no time to resist. Once they reached home, Song Qingyou got out first, with Fu Wenzhou following close behind. His leg injury had mostly healed, though it still throbbed occasionally, but that pain was less than a ten-thousandth of the pain caused by Song Qingyou’s indifference.

Fu Wenzhou followed her into the guest room and turned to lock the door. Hearing the click, Song Qingyou’s expression darkened. "Was I not clear enough yesterday?"

Fu Wenzhou’s voice was hoarse and his eyes were dull, clearly having gone without rest for a long time. "You were very clear. But I don't want to. I don't want to calm down, and I don't want to sleep in separate rooms."

Song Qingyou turned cold. "We are in a relationship, but I am not your possession. I hope you can respect my wishes."

Fu Wenzhou gritted his teeth, his tone bordering on a breakdown. "But we only had an argument! Arguments can be mended!"

"What if I don't want to mend things with you right now?" Song Qingyou was so angry her face flushed. "Fu Wenzhou, are you only capable of understanding other people, but not me?"

Fu Wenzhou pressed his tongue hard against his back teeth. "What do you mean by 'don't want to mend things'?"

"Exactly what I said." Song Qingyou’s voice trembled. "Now, please leave. If you don't go, then I will."

Fu Wenzhou felt like he was going insane. It felt as if something heavy was crushing his chest, and his throat felt as if it were being gripped by a hand, making every breath an immense effort. In the end, he turned and slammed the door shut with a loud *bang*.

Yet, just as the door was about to make a deafening noise, he caught it with his arm, preventing the impact. In the end, the door, which should have borne the brunt of his rage, remained as silent and unharmed as a calm sea.