Chapter 92: Novelty

Fu Wenzhou narrowed his eyes, the upward slant of his gaze forming an attractive arc, lips curved in a wild, roguish smile. Song Qingyou glanced back at him, the corners of her lips lifting slightly.

Gu Bai rolled his eyes and teased on purpose, “See that? This is the difference between a wife and a brother.”

Fu Wenzhou arched a brow in mock disdain. “Get lost.”

Gu Bai snorted. “Ha!”

Song Qingyou turned around, her gaze sweeping over the group as she spoke softly, “Dingsheng has the resources to create the right environment. I think we should give it a try. Whether it’s pharmaceuticals or something else, we can’t always rely on foreign products and let ourselves be held hostage.”

Gu Bai fell silent.

Jiang Zhiyuan studied Song Qingyou for a few seconds, then looked to Yan Shaoqin. “Shaoqin, what do you think?”

Yan Shaoqin took a sip of wine, his tone languid. “If Dingsheng wants to establish a drug research department, that’s fine. But we also need to secure the agency rights for the foreign leukemia medication this time. If we’re going to do research, we can’t abandon profits.”

Shen Guannan nodded in agreement. “The cost of drug development is too high. Without financial backing, it’s impossible.”

Song Qingyou wanted to secure the agency rights as well, but the problem was that if Dingsheng set up the R&D department now, there wouldn’t be any spare funds left to bid for them.

Fu Wenzhou slipped his hand around her slender waist and held it firmly, resting his chin on Song Qingyou’s shoulder, his voice husky, “Sister, can I invest a share?”

The others raised their eyebrows at his words.

Song Qingyou was taken aback and turned her head to look at him. “You want to invest?”

Fu Wenzhou twirled a lock of her black hair between his fingers, his manner casual, “Is it allowed?”

He knew Song Qingyou too well; if he simply offered, she would never accept. But an investment was a different matter.

After all, his money was hers anyway—what to invest in and how didn’t matter.

Sure enough, Song Qingyou hesitated for two seconds, then nodded her consent.

Fu Wenzhou’s lips curled into a triumphant smile. With so many people around, he forcibly suppressed the urge to kiss her.

Instead, his lips brushed the strands of hair twined around his finger as he said hoarsely, “I won’t take much, just sell me one percent. That way, Yan Shaoqin will have one percent less than you, and you’ll still have the final say at Dingsheng.”

“Pfft.” Gu Ruo couldn’t help but laugh out loud, then felt embarrassed and apologized, “Sorry, please continue. Yan Shao, I swear I wasn’t laughing at you.”

Yan Shaoqin replied with a dry chuckle. “Heh.”

Chu Fan looked at his wife with helpless indulgence—she was truly adorably silly.

The entire meal was filled with talk of project investments. Afterward, Song Qingyou and Gu Ruo walked side by side at the front, while Fu Wenzhou brought up the rear, carrying his jacket.

Gu Bai deliberately slowed his pace to walk alongside Fu Wenzhou. “When did you get your ear pierced? Back in school, I begged you to do it and you were a hundred times unwilling.”

Fu Wenzhou glanced at him. “None of your business.”

Gu Bai snorted, “Don’t tell me Song Qingyou asked you to do it.”

Fu Wenzhou’s lips quirked up, and Gu Bai, seeing his lovestruck expression, couldn’t help but twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Damn, did Song Qingyou really make you do it?”

“No,” Fu Wenzhou replied blandly.

So his brother’s infatuation still had hope. But before Gu Bai could finish his sigh of relief, a leisurely voice sounded beside him.

“She did it herself.”

Gu Bai was speechless. Beyond saving.

Xu Zezhan, who was standing nearby, examined the earring. “This design looks unique. Guannan, isn’t your family in the jewelry business? Take a look.”

Fu Wenzhou batted away Xu Zezhan’s outstretched hand. “What’s there to see? If my Youyou gave it to me, it’s priceless.”

Shen Guannan interjected, “It really is priceless. This is a piece by Daiswilde, known as the Poet of Jewelry in the early twentieth century. Judging by its shape, it’s completely natural and uncut, yet the inlay perfectly encapsulates the gemstone. And the color is that rare deep-sea blue.”

He paused, then added, “At least three billion.”

“Holy shit!” Gu Bai was stunned. “Song Qingyou gave you a three-billion gemstone as an earring?”

He swore never to call Fu Wenzhou a lovestruck fool behind his back again—this was truly a mutual devotion!

Who would have thought the least favored youngest daughter would have such deep pockets?

Up ahead, Yan Shaoqin stopped and turned back with a cold look. “When she works with me, she’d bleed me dry if she could. With you, she’s downright generous.”

Fu Wenzhou was momentarily stunned at the sum of three billion, but then a smile blossomed across his face, impossible to suppress. He raised an eyebrow, “I’m her man—what are you?”

It wasn’t just the value of the gemstone—this was also her mother’s keepsake.

Yet she had given this invaluable earring to him.

Didn’t that mean he held a very special place in Youyou’s heart? Maybe she was already hopelessly in love with him.

The more Fu Wenzhou thought about it, the more likely it seemed, and the happier he felt.

Xu Zezhan remarked coolly, “Wipe that smile off your face—you’re grinning ear to ear.”

Fu Wenzhou scoffed, “Sour grapes.”

Xu Zezhan could only laugh in exasperation. Chu Fan had become a doting husband after marriage, and Fu Wenzhou was now utterly devoted to Song Qingyou.

Was being in a relationship really that wonderful?

Tch, Xu Zezhan just couldn’t relate—he changed girlfriends every week, always seeking something new.

At the intersection, Gu Ruo clung to Song Qingyou, asking for her contact information, saying she really liked her and wanted to stay in touch.

Chu Fan dragged his wife away, Shen Guannan, Yan Shaoqin, and Jiang Zhiyuan left together, and after a few teasing remarks, Gu Bai and Xu Zezhan also departed.

Liang Muchuan stood on the steps, a cigarette dangling from his lips, half his body shrouded in shadow, his deep eyes unreadable.

Fu Wenzhou bent to open the car door for Song Qingyou, shielding her from any bumps with his hand. After she was settled, he fastened her seatbelt, pressed a kiss to her cheek, and whispered, “I’m going to have a word with Liang Muchuan. Wait for me.”

“Alright,” Song Qingyou nodded.

Fu Wenzhou closed the car door and turned to face Liang Muchuan, his gaze cold and indifferent.