Chapter 25: It's You Who Can't Make It

After giving his gift, Gu Bai quickly dragged Fu Wenzhou away. Madam Ruan was passionate about meddling in others’ lifelong affairs, and everyone she “concerned” was left feeling anxious; Gu Bai dared not linger.

Fu Wenzhou was annoyed that Song Qingyou didn’t value his gesture. After Gu Bai pulled him away, he found a spot to drink alone, exuding an aura that warned strangers to keep their distance—a truly intimidating presence.

Because of the unpleasant ending that day, Song Qingyou could ignore Fu Wenzhou. Yet, when she caught a glimpse of his gloomy expression out of the corner of her eye, she couldn’t help but find it amusing.

She wondered who had upset him this time.

Such a bad temper.

Madam Ruan liked Song Qingyou and kept her close for a conversation. This was precisely Song Qingyou’s intention, though she knew she had to proceed gradually and not immediately involve matters of profit.

All she needed was to establish a connection with Madam Ruan first.

She had deliberately learned about the old lady’s preferences, and since both of them admired Master Lin Qingshan, their conversation flowed easily. The more they talked, the more Madam Ruan liked her. Upon hearing that Song Qingyou had just divorced Fu Tingchen, the old lady felt very sorry for her.

“That Fu Tingchen is truly blind—letting go of someone like you and choosing a scheming woman from a small family. Divorcing you is his loss.”

Song Qingyou pressed her lips into a smile, saying nothing.

Being the birthday celebrant, Madam Ruan was quite busy. Song Qingyou had good sense; after winning enough of the old lady’s favor, she politely excused herself to find her friends and left Madam Ruan’s side.

After accompanying Madam Ruan for half the day, her throat was itching, but she kept it in check. Now, finally relaxed, the urge to cough surged uncontrollably like a tide.

Song Qingyou covered her mouth, tasting blood instantly in her throat.

She hurried to the restroom; when she opened her hand, she saw a stain of red in her palm.

Leaning against the sink, she coughed almost until her voice was hoarse, her pale face flushing red, a drop of blood at the corner of her mouth vivid as cinnabar.

There were others in the restroom, so she instinctively avoided their gaze, not wanting anyone to see her so disheveled.

When she was finally alone, she coughed up a mouthful of blood, her whole body feeling lighter, temporarily relieved.

But in the mirror, her complexion was even more pallid, the fine blue veins faintly visible beneath her thin skin.

After composing herself, she felt her body could no longer bear it and decided to leave. Just as she stepped out of the restroom, she encountered Fu Tingchen in the wide corridor.

She frowned slightly, passing by him as if he were invisible.

The next moment, her arm was suddenly gripped tightly. She gasped softly as Fu Tingchen yanked her back.

Her back slammed against the cold wall with a thud, making her grunt from pain. Anger surged up in her heart, though she kept her expression controlled. “Fu Tingchen, what are you doing?”

Fu Tingchen sneered, “You avoid me as soon as you see me. What’s wrong, feeling guilty?”

Song Qingyou shook off his hand and rubbed her sore arm, suppressing her anger. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Boring.”

With that, she was about to leave, unwilling to entangle herself with Fu Tingchen.

Her indifferent attitude infuriated Fu Tingchen. Ignoring the fact that others were passing by, he spoke harshly, “Just divorced me and already cozying up to Fu Wenzhou? I bet you two have been fooling around for ages!”

Song Qingyou paused.

People were starting to watch them, and Song Qingyou, having just gained Madam Ruan’s favor, didn’t want any drama to spoil the old lady’s joyous day. She decided to endure him for now.

Yet seeing her silent, Fu Tingchen didn’t stop; instead, he pressed further. “Fu Wenzhou really is a mad dog—dogs always pick up what others discard.”

“Someone like you, and he’s still interested? He must be desperate.”

Song Qingyou couldn’t stand anyone speaking ill of Fu Wenzhou, especially in such a crude manner. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, her gentle demeanor carrying an indescribable allure.

She looked at Fu Tingchen, not angry, and smiled lightly. “What’s wrong? So anxious and agitated—are you regretting divorcing me?”

“Regret? You should take a look at yourself and see if you’re even worthy!” Fu Tingchen, hearing this, reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, agitated and defensive. “All these years, I never slept with you because I couldn’t stand your sickly, pretentious appearance—it disgusts me!”

“Oh?” Song Qingyou covered her mouth faintly, a hint of surprise in her gaze. “Isn’t it because you’re… incapable?”

Fu Tingchen was instantly speechless.

He never expected Song Qingyou to be so sharp-tongued now. Just that word “incapable” nearly drove him mad with anger.

He raged, “Song Qingyou! Who are you calling incapable?!”

“Even your own woman needed my help to get pregnant,” Song Qingyou replied calmly. “President Fu, that’s hardly something to brag about. You’d better keep your voice down, or if word gets out about your… incapacity, it’d be truly embarrassing.”

Fu Tingchen glanced around. The spacious corridor was now crowded with people, all eavesdropping on their drama.

His face alternated between green and pale, looking utterly miserable. Furious, he wanted to teach Song Qingyou a lesson for her insolence, only to realize she had already vanished.

Lin Miaomiao was rarely brought out by Fu Tingchen. Despite her efforts to fit into the party, others only regarded her as Fu Tingchen’s wife on the surface, polite yet distant.

No matter how dazzling their smiles, they couldn’t conceal the contempt in their eyes.

Lin Miaomiao’s background was lacking, something she cared deeply about. After making her rounds, she suffered cold shoulders and disdain, so she sat sulking and texted Fu Tingchen, who soon appeared by her side.

He sat down heavily, taking a glass of wine from the waiter’s tray and downing it in one gulp.

Lin Miaomiao clung to his shoulder bonelessly, complaining in a wounded tone about being neglected. Fu Tingchen grew impatient.

“If you’re not comfortable, then don’t come next time.”

Lin Miaomiao froze, tears brimming in her eyes. “Tingchen… are you abandoning me too?”

“Don’t overthink.” Fu Tingchen replied, his head aching as he suppressed his emotions. “I mean, you’re pregnant now—don’t let your mood affect you. If these gatherings make you unhappy, we just won’t attend anymore. You and the baby are what matter most.”

Lin Miaomiao, teary-eyed, protested, “Baby, baby—there’s only the baby in your eyes, you don’t care about me at all. I was looking everywhere for you just now; where did you go?”

“It was that Song Qingyou—” Fu Tingchen stopped halfway, gritting his teeth, visibly irritated. “Enough about that. If you’re bored, we’ll just go home.”

As he stood up, Lin Miaomiao watched his tall, upright figure and finally snapped back to herself.

What had he just said?

He and Song Qingyou together?

A strong sense of crisis surged in Lin Miaomiao’s heart. Was it possible that Song Qingyou regretted the divorce and was now clinging to Fu Tingchen?

A flicker of darkness and ruthlessness flashed across her eyes. She had worked so hard to secure Fu Tingchen by her side, relying on the child in her belly to get what she wanted, and she would never let anyone take away everything she possessed now!

Her expression twisted briefly, but she quickly composed herself and hurried after him. “Tingchen, wait for me…”