Chapter 29: Don't Play Dumb

The rain had fallen for two days, and for two days Song Qingyou had not stepped outside. Fu Wenzhou hadn’t come to see her during this time, probably still because of the fight with Fu Tingshen that day. She felt a certain relief, and yet… she missed him. She both wished he would come and hoped he would stay away. In the end, Song Qingyou couldn’t tell what she truly wanted from Fu Wenzhou. So she decided not to think about it at all.

After the rain, the city seemed freshly washed, spotless yet damp. That morning, Song Qingyou received a call from Gu Bai and left the house early. The rain had just stopped, and the temperature had not yet warmed; she was dressed more heavily than others, a shawl draped over her shoulders. As she stepped out of the car, Gu Bai made no effort to hide the appreciation and admiration in his eyes. He walked over and offered his hand like a gentleman. “It’s only been a few days, Miss Song, and you seem even more beautiful.”

Song Qingyou joked, “President Gu, you have a good eye.”

Her voice was soft and warm, pleasant to the ear.

Gu Bai smiled and led her into the restaurant.

At first, when Song Qingyou said she wanted to take the Ruan family’s project from the Songs, he thought she was boasting. But now that it had truly come to pass, he found new respect for her methods. She looked frail and sickly, but her mind was anything but simple. It was fortunate for his own sister that Song Qingyou had no ulterior motives; otherwise, with his sister’s naivety, she’d probably help count the money after being sold.

Throughout the meal, Gu Bai kept glancing at the restaurant entrance. Song Qingyou set down her chopsticks, dabbed her lips with elegance, and half-smiling, asked, “Are you expecting someone, President Gu?”

“Not exactly,” Gu Bai replied. “I was just wondering when Fu Wenzhou would arrive.”

Song Qingyou was taken aback, and he continued, “He treats you like the apple of his eye and guards against me like a wolf. We’re nearly finished with our meal, and he still hasn’t shown up. I’m a bit curious…”

He grinned, and Song Qingyou sensed nothing good would follow.

Sure enough, he teased, “Could it be that his dog-like nose isn’t working today?”

Song Qingyou fell silent.

She didn’t like hearing others speak of Fu Wenzhou that way. With a serious expression, she said, “President Gu, that’s enough with the jokes.”

Gu Bai chuckled and apologized. “Sorry, it just struck me as funny.”

But Song Qingyou didn’t think her affairs with Fu Wenzhou were a spectacle for others’ amusement, and she made her displeasure clear. Gu Bai dropped the subject.

After discussing business, the two parted ways. As they left the restaurant, Gu Bai offered to take her home, but she declined. From the faintly mocking smile on his face, she could guess what he was thinking. But it hardly mattered now. After the commotion with Fu Wenzhou, their entanglement would only deepen.

Thinking of this, Song Qingyou felt troubled. She had always wanted to keep her distance from Fu Wenzhou, to avoid becoming too involved, but now everything had gone in the opposite direction.

When she returned home, the strength she’d forced herself to maintain finally crumbled. Going out in this season was a torment for her; she was alternately hot and cold, feeling as if the dampness had seeped into her very bones. She looked forward to a good rest once home, but upon stepping out of the elevator, she saw someone who had no business being there.

Song Yuan stood at her door, seething with anger, pounding on the door and calling her name.

Song Qingyou pulled at the corner of her mouth, not at all surprised by his arrival. Now that his precious son had control of the company, and the project the Song family thought was theirs had been snatched away by her, of course Song Yuan would come looking for her.

She composed herself and spoke coolly, “What brings you here?”

Song Yuan was fuming, ready to settle accounts with her, but when he heard her voice behind him, he turned to see her standing there, graceful and poised.

His anger flared. “Open the door!”

Song Qingyou let out a light laugh.

It seemed Song Yuan had at least brought some semblance of propriety this time, knowing to come inside to talk. She’d thought he’d try to embarrass her publicly, causing a scene right there in the hallway.

She unlocked the door, and after coming inside, Song Yuan looked around as if searching for something. Only when he found evidence that she lived alone did his expression soften slightly.

He dropped heavily onto the sofa, and with no outsiders present, his indifference and contempt were laid bare. “A woman must first keep herself clean. Don’t degrade yourself…”

Song Qingyou interrupted with a fit of coughing, covering her mouth, and when she finished, she looked up at Song Yuan with studied indifference. “What did you say? Sorry, my illness acted up. I didn’t catch that.”

She sat down herself, and as soon as she touched the softness of the sofa, her whole body relaxed. Sitting really was more comfortable.

She treated Song Yuan as if he were nothing but air, her mood untroubled.

Song Yuan was furious at her disregard, his face turning livid. He slammed his palm on the coffee table and stood, bellowing, “Song Qingyou! I’m talking to you—are you deaf?!”

Song Qingyou propped her head with one hand, eyes closed. “I’m listening.”

Her indifference only fueled Song Yuan’s rage. It was as if he wished he could strangle her. He looked at her as though she were something detestable by the roadside.

“I don’t care what you’re planning. I’m warning you—return the Ruan family’s project to Song Chen, or don’t blame me for what happens next!”

He’d finally gotten to the point of his visit.

Song Qingyou looked at him, amused. “Return what?”

Song Yuan was incensed. “Song Qingyou! Don’t play dumb with me!”

“I’m not playing dumb—you are.” Song Qingyou’s tone was calm and gentle, but the smile in her eyes was like a sharp thorn, pricking at Song Yuan’s pride. “Return it? It was never the Song family’s to begin with. Why should I return it?”

Song Yuan sputtered, “You—”

“I won that project by my own efforts. If Song Chen truly wants it, let him fight for it himself. Or is he so useless now that he can only send you to throw a tantrum?”

Song Yuan was momentarily stunned. His first reaction was fury.

He never imagined Song Qingyou would dare insult and defy him.

“What did you say?! You ungrateful wretch! Seems I need to teach you a lesson today, so you’ll know your place!”

Blazing with anger, he seized a vase from the table and hurled it at Song Qingyou. She scrambled to her feet, dodging awkwardly, but the effort left her breathless. She bent over, coughing violently.

Amid Song Yuan’s curses, she looked up to see him unbuckling his belt, his face twisted with rage as he strode toward her. “You worthless thing—stealing from your own brother! Today I’ll beat you to death!”

The raised belt filled her vision, and in that instant, memories of a wretched childhood flooded back. Her pupils contracted sharply, and as the belt was about to come down, she closed her eyes by instinct, already prepared to be beaten bloody.

Despite the bleakness in her heart, she began to calmly consider how to use this beating to make Song Yuan pay.

The whistle of the belt slicing through the air made her scalp tingle, yet the expected blow never landed.

Instead, Song Yuan’s voice rang out—furious, yet tinged with fear. “Fu Wenzhou, what do you think you’re doing! I’m disciplining my own daughter—don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong!”