Chapter 77: Friends

Song Qingyou held a white stone between her fingers, seemingly deep in thought for a long while. At the very moment she placed her piece, she caught a clear glimpse of Jiang Chu’s brows relaxing across the board. Pretending not to notice, she waited for Jiang Chu to make his move, then lifted her gaze as he smiled lightly at her. “Miss Song, thank you for the game.”

With an expression that was both regretful and admiring, she praised Jiang Chu with a few courteous words, which made him beam with delight.

“Miss Song, you’re far too modest. So young, yet so composed and unflappable. No wonder even young Master Fu sings your praises.”

Song Qingyou glanced over at Fu Wenzhou, who quickly gave her a conspiratorial wink.

Jiang Chu, oblivious to the silent exchange between them, continued, “If there’s ever a chance, I’d truly like to work with you young talents someday.”

“Mr. Jiang, you flatter me. Speaking of collaboration,” Song Qingyou replied with measured humility, pouring him a cup of tea as she spoke sincerely, “I happen to have a project at hand, something in bioengineering. I’ve heard that you’ve devoted yourself to this field in recent years. I wonder, would you be interested?”

The Jiang family had long made their fortune in Binhai through gambling, and Jiang Chu had been seeking an opportunity to expand his business. Unfortunately, the right chance had yet to appear.

A fleeting look passed through Jiang Chu’s eyes, but he maintained his composure. “Ah, I’m getting old. I don’t have as much energy to wrestle with things. The waters in the capital run deep—I doubt an old man like me could compete with your generation.”

“Mr. Jiang, you do yourself a disservice. Your company is a leader in the field. We’re just dabbling, hardly worth mentioning.” Song Qingyou smiled. “It’s just a shame, really. After so many years in Binhai, have you never thought of forging a new path and entering the capital?”

“Though the capital may be treacherous, I believe it’s nothing you can’t handle.”

Her compliments were well placed, but Jiang Chu did not give a direct answer. Seasoned as he was in business, he deftly steered the conversation away, chuckling, “Well, I’ll have to give it some thought.”

Song Qingyou knew when to withdraw and let the subject drop, turning instead to more casual topics.

While the two chatted and played their game, Fu Wenzhou sat quietly to the side, fiddling with his phone, as unobtrusive as a piece of wood, chiming in only occasionally with a few words. Yet, even in silence, his presence was impossible to ignore.

After a while, his phone rang. Rising politely, he excused himself and stepped out to take the call.

Jiang Chu’s eyes followed his figure as he left, then, as if by chance, he remarked, “Miss Song, you seem to get along well with Mr. Fu. May I ask, what exactly is the relationship between you?”

Given the nature of their acquaintance, the question was abrupt. Song Qingyou pressed her lips together, then calmly replied, “Friends.”

She still couldn’t bring herself to make their relationship public, not while she felt unprepared to face the inevitable scrutiny.

Jiang Chu’s face lit up with a wide grin. “Oh, I see.”

At first, Song Qingyou hadn’t understood why he’d inquired about her and Fu Wenzhou. She thought perhaps he’d heard some rumors. It wasn’t until dinner, when Jiang Chu repeatedly and enthusiastically spoke of both Fu Wenzhou and Jiang Xun, that she realized his intentions—he had set his sights on Fu Wenzhou, intending to match him with his own daughter.

She lowered her head to take a sip of water, her face betraying no emotion.

Indeed, that was Jiang Chu’s plan. He’d questioned Song Qingyou, worried that, without understanding the true relationship between her and Fu Wenzhou, he’d make a laughingstock of himself if he tried to pair his daughter with the young man.

Though Binhai was different from the capital—most there had made their fortunes from nothing and didn’t abide by the same codes as the established aristocracy—it was still true that Song Qingyou and Fu Wenzhou had once been aunt and nephew by marriage. If they truly ended up together, it would hardly look proper. Jiang Chu sensed something odd in their interactions, but given their former relationship, he assumed Fu Wenzhou would be discreet.

Now, having asked and confirmed that Song Qingyou and Fu Wenzhou were merely friends, he felt free to proceed.

“Wenzhou, you’re already twenty-one. All these years, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of you liking anyone?” Jiang Chu asked casually.

Fu Wenzhou lifted his glass, his gaze flickering toward Song Qingyou on his right, a faint smile on his lips. “I’m a man of principle.”

Song Qingyou was speechless at his shameless self-congratulation.

Throughout the meal, Jiang Xun would occasionally exchange a few words with Fu Wenzhou. With Jiang Chu deftly guiding the conversation, the group seemed to get along amiably.

Song Qingyou quietly ate her food, though for some reason, she found the Jiang family’s cooking rather unpalatable that evening.

The sound of a woman’s laughter grated on her ears. Pressing her lips together, the smile in her eyes had long since faded.

Yet Fu Wenzhou acted as if nothing was amiss, accepting every toast Jiang Xun offered him.

Jiang Chu watched with satisfaction. After dinner, he nudged his daughter. “Xunxun, it’s been ages since Wenzhou visited. Why don’t you show him around? Young Master Fu is talented and accomplished—you should learn from him.”

Fu Wenzhou didn’t hesitate to refuse, but his gaze lingered on Song Qingyou, who sat calmly sipping her tea, and he felt a pang of grievance.

He wasn’t blind—he could easily see through the father and daughter’s intentions. But he also knew Song Qingyou wished to collaborate with Jiang Chu, so he endured it all with patience.

In all the capital, who else had the standing to warrant his constant, smiling company?

Yet, seeing how blatant Jiang Chu and Jiang Xun were, he couldn’t believe Song Qingyou hadn’t noticed. Still, she hadn’t said a single word to stop it.

An irrational hurt welled up in Fu Wenzhou’s heart. Was he someone she was ashamed of, unwilling to acknowledge? After all they had been through, was she still unwilling to give him a proper place beside her?

He thought back to the previous night, remembering how humbly he had pleaded with her, and how she had feigned deafness.

Holding back a surge of unspoken anger, Fu Wenzhou looked at Song Qingyou with a faint, chilly smile. He tossed the problem back to her. “Miss Song and I came together. It wouldn’t be right to leave her behind. If she wishes me to go, I’ll go.”

Jiang Chu’s expression shifted, his gaze darting between the two.

Jiang Xun, meanwhile, looked on as though she saw right through everything, settling in to watch the unfolding drama.

Song Qingyou’s heart thudded wildly. There was something peculiar in the way Fu Wenzhou uttered “Miss Song.”

But she had just told Jiang Chu that she and Fu Wenzhou were merely friends; friends had no right to dictate each other’s actions. Smiling nonchalantly, she replied, “If you want to go, go. Don’t worry about me.”

At her words, the smile vanished instantly from Fu Wenzhou’s eyes, leaving only a thin, cold curve to his lips. He replied coolly, “All right, Jiang Xun, let’s go.”

He called out to Jiang Xun, but his eyes remained fixed on Song Qingyou, unwilling to leave, waiting for her to stop him, to tell him not to go. But she didn’t even spare him a glance, as if she truly didn’t care.

Fu Wenzhou gave a cold snort, stood up, and strode away. With his long legs, he disappeared from sight in an instant.

Jiang Xun raised her brows in amusement. Only when prompted by Jiang Chu did she stand, casting a thoughtful look at Song Qingyou before following after Fu Wenzhou.

Jiang Chu pretended not to notice Song Qingyou’s momentary daze, and cheerfully said, “My daughter has a rather cold temperament, her standards are high. Most boys don’t catch her eye. After all these years, only with Wenzhou have I seen her truly enjoy a conversation. Miss Song, come, play a couple more rounds with me.”

Song Qingyou assented absentmindedly.

But after she sat back down at the board, she found herself unable to concentrate.

Jiang Xun was so bright and lively, nothing like her own sickly, wan self. Sometimes, she felt like an old woman on death’s door. She wondered, would Fu Wenzhou find her boring by comparison?

Jiang Xun was so charming—surely anyone would be fond of her.

“It’s your turn, Miss Song,” Jiang Chu reminded her. Song Qingyou, her thoughts in turmoil, placed her piece at random, then stared in surprise at her own misplay.

She had made a novice’s mistake.

Jiang Chu paused in surprise, then chuckled, “Miss Song, don’t go easy on me just because I’m older.”

Song Qingyou’s face grew still, then she offered a faint, apologetic smile. “Forgive me, Mr. Jiang. I should have made this clear earlier—I am more than just friends with Fu Wenzhou. He and your daughter…may not be a good match.”