Chapter 91: Able to Afford the Loss

After that, whatever they discussed, Song Qingyou didn’t hear a single word. Her mind was filled with Sacred Mountain, hypothermia, prayers for blessings. These were things Fu Wenzhou had never told her, nor had Song Chang. A fine, piercing pain welled up in her chest, as if every fiber of her being was torn apart. Song Qingyou forced herself to suppress the ache pounding at her heart, slowly raised her head, and looked at Fu Wenzhou without speaking, only gazing at him in silence.

Afraid she would blame him, Fu Wenzhou’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his voice a bit rushed: “I know my limits, I won’t die. Qingyou, you know how exaggerative Gu Bai can be, don’t you?”

Gu Bai snorted, “What about my mouth? Am I not telling the truth? Anyway, you—damn! Fine, I’ll shut up.”

He was cut off by a glare from Fu Wenzhou and didn’t continue.

Song Qingyou took a deep breath, her fingertips gently caressing the string of world-avoiding beads on her wrist—beads he had prayed for on her behalf. Fu Wenzhou, reckless and bold in his youth, never believed in gods or Buddha, yet for her, he knelt and prayed, step by step, in earnest.

She couldn’t quite name the feeling—only that her heart was filled to overflowing with bittersweet emotion. In the world she grew up in, no one would ever do such a thing for her; everyone only cared about profit and loss, so that’s all she ever learned.

Fu Wenzhou was the accident and exception in her life, a man whose heart and eyes were full of her, who treated her as his very life.

Song Qingyou wondered, if she really died one day, what would he do?

Her illness could never be cured; it was a congenital malady, impossible to heal. Her teacher had already told her two years ago that she had only three to five years left. Never before had Song Qingyou so desperately wanted to live.

For the first time, her desire for survival surpassed her thirst for revenge. She wanted to live, to spend a lifetime with Fu Wenzhou. She hoped their lifetime would be long, not just these fleeting three or five years.

Song Qingyou remained silent, only lightly scratching the palm of his hand.

Fu Wenzhou froze instantly, his gaze darkening, locking tightly onto Song Qingyou.

Song Qingyou lifted her eyes, released Fu Wenzhou’s hand, took the wine glass in front of him, and slowly stood: “It’s the first time Wenzhou has brought me to meet his friends. This glass of wine should be my toast to you all.”

Everyone paused.

Fu Wenzhou frowned, reaching to take the glass from her: “Qingyou, you can’t drink.”

Song Qingyou pinched his earlobe, her voice gentle: “One glass won’t matter. They’re your friends, and as your girlfriend, this is a toast I ought to make.”

The people present exchanged glances, all knowing exactly what this glass of wine meant.

Fu Wenzhou pressed his brows, his temper evident: “If anyone should be toasting, it’s them to you.”

Everyone held their breath in silence. In this circle, some were friends, others competitors—both rivals and allies. But the title of the Nine Young Lords of the capital was not given lightly; these eight represented the highest powers in the city, none inferior to the others.

Song Qingyou toasted them, and they could drink; but if it was the other way around, no one would move.

Gu Bai glanced around, suddenly scraped his stool back, and raised his glass: “Alright, I’ll go first.”

With a swagger, he drained the glass and pulled Xu Zezhan beside him: “Get up! Wenzhou finally brought the girl he’s been pining after all these years. You won’t even give him this honor?”

Xu Zezhan curled his lips, stood up. “Fine, I toast you, sister-in-law.”

Yan Shaoqin clicked his tongue: “Song Qingyou, we’re business partners. Strictly speaking, neither of us needs to toast, but since I’m here today, I can’t break Mad Dog’s rules. Here, to you.”

Liang Muchuan smiled, “Since everyone’s toasting, I can’t be the exception.”

Then Shen Guannan, Jiang Zhiyuan, Chu Fan, and Gu Ruo all stood and each toasted Song Qingyou.

Her eyes flickered slightly, fingertips tightening around the glass. She smiled at them, “Thank you.”

With that, she drank the wine in one gulp.

Afterward, she coughed several times, her face flushed. Gu Bai and the others were startled, worried she’d suffer some mishap.

Fu Wenzhou’s face darkened with rage, his whole body emanating a fierce aura.

Song Qingyou squeezed his hand, soothing him, “I’m fine, just choked.”

Fu Wenzhou pressed his lips together and poured her a cup of hot tea.

The warm tea eased her throat, and Song Qingyou sat down.

Gu Ruo stared at Song Qingyou’s delicate profile, stunned for a few seconds: “When Chu Fan brought me to meet them, it wasn’t nearly this big a scene.”

Song Qingyou covered her lips, coughing lightly. She was in business; she’d be dealing with them often in the future. These men controlled the capital’s economic lifeline. Fu Wenzhou brought her here today to make her identity and stance clear, so things should go much more smoothly for her from now on.

She looked at Gu Ruo without speaking, only gave her a faint smile in reply.

Another round of drinks followed. Suddenly, Shen Guannan turned the conversation to Song Qingyou: “You… Is Ding Sheng Pharmaceutical under your name now?”

Song Qingyou nodded, “Yes. Why?”

Chu Fan said, “There’s a new batch of medicine abroad, rumored to treat leukemia. They’re looking for domestic agents. You and Shaoqin’s Ding Sheng Pharmaceutical might want to try.”

Jiang Zhiyuan tapped the table rhythmically: “If you secure the agency, Ding Sheng’s annual revenue could reach five times last year’s.”

Song Qingyou frowned slightly. Five times—what kind of drug could yield such profits?

Yan Shaoqin swirled his glass: “Right now, there are already five or six companies bidding domestically, including the industry leader Taiye Group and Lan Cheng, which just went public overseas this year. Competing with these two, Ding Sheng will have a tough time.”

Song Qingyou said soberly: “I’m planning to set up an R&D department at Ding Sheng, recruit pharmaceutical talent, and purchase research equipment. All this will cost a lot; there probably isn’t extra money left for bidding.”

Yan Shaoqin raised an eyebrow: “R&D department?”

He’d been exploring pharmaceuticals the past couple of years, even his current project, Shi Yu, included drug development. He’d invested heavily, but the costs were astronomical and results slow to show—essentially burning money every day.

He was already considering abandoning the project.

Rather than pursuing innovation, it was easier to continue Ding Sheng’s old path—acting as a drug agent, earning the margin, less trouble and risk.

Shen Guannan looked at Song Qingyou with deeper meaning: “You’re planning to do drug development?”

“Yes.” Song Qingyou’s features were cold and clear. “Domestic technical talent is scarce. In many fields, including scientific research, too many people are lured abroad. It’s not easy for the country to cultivate talent, and it’s not that people don’t want to work here, but they lack a good environment and salary. Instead of letting others poach our talent and then sell their achievements back to us at high prices, we should establish our own R&D department and break this closed loop.”

The people at the table exchanged looks. Born in the shadow of the imperial city, they understood the domestic predicament better than anyone, but changing an environment shaped over so many years was no easy matter.

Jiang Zhiyuan asked, intrigued, “What’s your plan?”

Song Qingyou replied coolly, “Start with Ding Sheng as a pilot. If results meet expectations, we can expand nationwide.”

Gu Bai clicked his tongue, “Do you know how huge an investment that is?”

Jiang Zhiyuan asked, “How will you balance income and expenses?”

Song Qingyou’s gaze flickered, a hint of gloom in her eyes.

She hadn’t found a solution yet. Ding Sheng wasn’t hers alone; Yan Shaoqin held forty-nine percent. Based on current revenues, an R&D investment would only break even, no profits.

For an instant, the air was stagnant.

A cold, indifferent voice broke the silence.

Careless, yet tinged with resolve.

“If you want to do it, do it. We can afford to lose this bit of money.”