Chapter 30: I Can Protect You

“Do you dare lay a finger on her?”

Fu Wenzhou caught the belt barehanded, a murderous aura radiating from his brow. Towering a head above Song Yuan, his eyes turned dark and menacing like a mad dog enraged, exuding an oppressive force that made Song Yuan instinctively take a step back.

But memories of being publicly humiliated by a junior, kicked in front of everyone, quickly returned to him. Besides, the Song family’s status was now on par with the Fu family’s. The way Fu Wenzhou had treated him before still fanned the flames of his anger.

So Song Yuan straightened his back and barked, “Fu Wenzhou! Don’t forget—I am your elder!”

Fu Wenzhou’s voice dropped, cold and chilling: “President Song, let me give you a word of advice. Don’t reach too far, or else on a dark and windy night, you might break your arm again.”

Song Yuan replied icily, “Are you threatening me?”

Fu Wenzhou curled his lips in a sneer, shot him a glance, and then led Song Qingyou out of the room, slamming the door behind them.

Song Yuan stood unmoving. That look in Fu Wenzhou’s eyes just now—a look that made him believe the man truly considered snapping his arm right then and there.

Fu Wenzhou’s reputation in the capital was notorious: disrespectful to his elders, rebellious, ruthless in his actions. In just two years, he had managed to secure his position in the Fu Group, seizing power for himself—a man like that was certainly not to be underestimated.

If this weren’t a society governed by law…

Song Yuan took a deep, shuddering breath, his expression cold and terrifying.

Just a wall away.

Song Qingyou was cradled in Fu Wenzhou’s arms, her cheeks drained of all color. She took shallow breaths, eyes closed in discomfort.

Fu Wenzhou placed her gently on the sofa, his movements at odds with the nearly bloodshot fury in his eyes. Heaven only knew how much effort it took for him to suppress the violence raging inside.

Just a little more and his Qingyou would have been hurt.

Just a little more.

Fu Wenzhou’s jaw was clenched so tightly it nearly shattered; while he soothed Song Qingyou’s breathing, his mind was already darkly calculating the most fitting way to deal with Song Yuan.

“Does he do this often?”

He had held back for a long time, his eyes rimmed red with the effort, but in the end, Fu Wenzhou couldn’t help but ask.

Song Qingyou finally caught her breath and shook her head faintly.

“If you don’t provoke him, he won’t.”

When she was young, before she learned to read people’s expressions, it happened often. Later, she became clever—at the Song house, she learned to be invisible, never provoking her siblings, enduring even the maids’ malicious insults in silence.

With nothing to pick on, Song Yuan naturally hit her less often.

In truth, Song Qingyou understood why Song Yuan resented her—it was nothing more than the fact that she looked so much like Song Ning. This face was a constant reminder to Song Yuan of his own sordid and humble past, of how he had climbed the social ladder by currying favor.

Her existence was a thorn in his heart, digging deeper with time.

Fu Wenzhou fixed his gaze on Song Qingyou’s pale lips, his fingertips slowly tracing over them. “Song Qingyou.”

“Hmm?” Song Qingyou responded a beat late, turning her head to avoid his fingers pressed against her lips.

Fu Wenzhou held her still, his eyes dark and deep. “I can protect you.”

Song Qingyou didn’t quite understand. “What?”

“Whether you want to start a company, or pit yourself against Song Yuan, Qingyou—” Fu Wenzhou lowered his voice, his breath warm against her skin. “I can protect you.”

As long as she believed in him.

Scorched by the heat of his gaze, Song Qingyou’s fingertips curled. Her heart contracted violently; for a moment, her ears were filled with silence.

After more than twenty years of cold words and calculated flattery, she thought her heart was harder than ice. But a casual promise from Fu Wenzhou cracked that stony heart open, something unfamiliar slipping through the fissure. Startled, Song Qingyou pressed her hand to her chest.

Fu Wenzhou, thinking she was unwell, grew flustered as if facing a dire threat. “What’s wrong? Does it hurt again?”

Song Qingyou’s slender, fair hand pressed his away. “I’m fine.”

She looked at Fu Wenzhou, her voice gentle. “Song Yuan is tolerating you now because my grandfather just passed away not long ago. Song Yuan only just secured his position at Song Corporation, still on shaky ground. He had to beg Old Master Fu and the Song family for several joint projects worth tens of billions each. Only then did the shareholders agree to let him take my grandfather’s place.”

She coughed twice before continuing, “These contracts are essentially one-sided. Before they expire, Song Yuan wouldn’t dare offend the Fu family.”

That was also why, when the Fu family’s capital chain broke years ago, Song Yuan was willing to marry off his daughter to boost Fu Corporation’s stock price through an alliance.

“The contracts will expire in two months,” Song Qingyou said.

Fu Wenzhou scoffed indifferently, “So what?”

Song Qingyou paused and said, “Song Yuan is underhanded. Do you think after you embarrassed him today and kicked him last time, he’ll just let it go?”

Fu Wenzhou laughed—arrogant and dismissive, though his tone was tightly controlled. “Qingyou, in the end, you simply don’t believe I can protect you.”

Song Qingyou was speechless.

So all her explanations were for nothing.

This madman’s logic really couldn’t be compared to ordinary people.

Annoyed, she pushed him away. “There’s no reasoning with you.”

Seeing her get up, Fu Wenzhou blocked her path, displeased. “Where are you going?”

“I want a drink of water!” Song Qingyou ground out.

Fu Wenzhou stood up. “Let me handle such a trivial matter.”

Serving Song Qingyou had long since become a habit for him. In fact, he was more than willing—he wished he could spend every minute at her side, taking care of her around the clock.

Fu Wenzhou adjusted the water to just the temperature Qingyou liked before handing it to her.

Unbeknownst to them, Porridge had nudged open the bedroom door and scampered out. Seeing her beloved pet brightened Song Qingyou’s mood considerably.

Animals sense people’s moods, but aren’t aware of their own sharpness. The kitten, having heard its owner’s distress, finally managed to push open the door, and in a fit of excitement waved its claws wildly.

Song Qingyou reached out to pet it, and the little cat, head held high, pawed at her for a cuddle.

Fu Wenzhou glanced down, seized Porridge gently by the scruff, and the kitten let out a couple of indignant yowls, quickly tucking away its claws.

Song Qingyou’s hand safely landed atop the kitten’s fluffy head.

Fu Wenzhou snorted, “Is it really that nice to pet?”

Song Qingyou replied sincerely, “Yes, it is.”

Fu Wenzhou’s eyes lingered on her for a moment, then suddenly crouched down, pressing his head next to Porridge’s.

Song Qingyou blinked in confusion, “What are you doing?”

“Don’t pet it. Pet me,” Fu Wenzhou said in a low voice.

Song Qingyou was speechless.

When she made no move for a long while, Fu Wenzhou frowned, “Why aren’t you petting me?”

Song Qingyou rubbed her forehead. “You’re too hard. It hurts my hands.”

She really didn’t understand why this man was jealous of a cat.