Chapter Twenty: Chairman Fu Digging Through the Trash?!
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Night fell, and the rain poured down relentlessly. Yu Zao sat in Yang Chen’s car, heading toward the single apartment assigned by the school.
On the way, they passed by an elderly scrap collector grumbling loudly, “These days, young people are stealing my business. When I’m old, I’ll be left starving. And to top it off, he’s so handsome—what a wasted face!”
“That’s Fu Shiyong,” Yang Chen said, slowing down.
At the community’s garbage station, rainwater washed over the filth strewn across the ground. Amid the trash bins stood a figure clad in a bespoke suit, frantically rummaging through the non-recyclable waste. The man staggered, clearly drunk.
“Get out of the car. Have a proper talk with him. Even if you don’t reveal the truth, you can at least part on good terms.”
The car pulled over to the roadside. Yu Zao, head bowed and motionless, suddenly let out a soft laugh.
“Xiao Yu?”
“Stop the car. You’re right—I should really have a proper talk with him.”
The rain intensified. With each autumn rain came a chill.
Fu Shiyong, drunk and confused about time and place, had only one thought: he must have lost something extremely important and had to find it. He had to find it!
“Fu Shiyong.”
Through the curtain of rain pattering against the ground, Yu Zao held an umbrella, walking calmly step by step toward him.
“Wife…”
In Jingbei, Fu Shiyong was known as an aloof and unapproachable figure. Stern, noble, commanding respect, he was a man who could bend the winds to his will.
Yet, before one woman, he appeared helpless and utterly lost.
“Wife, can we just stop this? Yi Yi is waiting at home. Please come back with me.”
The scent of whiskey mixed with other spirits, entwined with a cool hint of mint, wafted over as he approached.
Suddenly—smack! A sharp slap landed, crisp and decisive.
Fu Shiyong froze.
Then Yu Zao’s hands moved rapidly, delivering over a dozen slaps in quick succession.
With each strike, she smiled and said, “Mr. Fu, you know I love money above all else. For money, I’d even be a mistress.”
“But you, with all your wealth, why play these love-and-suffering games with me?”
“Or how about this: one million, and I’ll cooperate. We can be loving and reconciled again?”
The final slap was caught mid-air by the man’s strong hand.
The rain poured down in torrents, drenching them to the bone. The cold seeping through their pores caused every muscle in Yu Zao’s body—long worn down by chronic pain—to spasm violently.
“Mr. Fu, one million is just a small price—practical and cheap. Won’t you seriously consider it?”
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Her figure was slender and alluring.
She bit down on a silver tooth, mingling blood with the bite, swallowing it down herself.
On the surface, she wore the ugly mask of a money-obsessed woman.
“Besides, Yu Yue might not satisfy you in bed. She’s so ordinary-looking. Are you really sure, Mr. Fu…”
“Shut up!”
A deep, sinister voice thundered alongside the storm.
The man tightened his grip slightly.
Yu Zao lost her balance and stumbled to the ground.
Around them, filthy garbage lay scattered, the air thick with damp, rancid stench.
Fu Shiyong looked down on her from above.
Nobility radiated from his very bones.
Even with his shirt wrinkled, collar unbuttoned, cuffs stained with grime, and a bruised cheek, his innate, overwhelming aura shone like a deity descended to earth.
“Yu Zao, a woman as despicable as you has no right to be mentioned in the same breath as Yu Yue.”
“She is my fiancée, the woman I love, and the mother of Yi Yi.”
“And you? Besides a worthless pretty face, what else do you have?”
“A career? A family? Or a harmonious home?”
In terms of career, Yu Yue was a renowned professor at the Central Academy of Fine Arts, her exhibitions sponsored by the Fu Group and displayed worldwide.
In terms of family, Yu Yue was adored and depended upon by two men, one older and one younger, envied by many.
As for a harmonious home...
The rain grew even heavier.
Fully sober now, Fu Shiyong stepped over Yu Zao’s body.
Before leaving, he sneered and tossed a wad of cash onto her head. “Consider this my thank-you fee—for letting me finally see your baseness clearly, and how foolish I was to have once loved you.”
Buzz, buzz, buzz.
The man’s phone rang.
A specially customized ringtone played, cheerful and lively—it was Yi Yi shouting.
“Daddy, daddy, answer the phone! It’s Mommy calling~”
“Hey, Yu Yue, hmm, I had to handle some things at the company last minute. It’s okay, don’t cry, I’ll be home soon.”
“Silly girl, how could I not love you? Don’t worry, Fu Shiyong will only ever love you, Yu Yue.”
The Rolls-Royce drove away.
That gentle voice, sweet enough to drip water, faded with it.
Yang Chen handed Yu Zao a photo, sighing, “I was afraid you’d regret it, so…”
“Yang, aren’t you going to praise me?”
“...”
“My acting was amazing, right? Ha ha ha. Even someone as clever as Fu Shiyong was completely fooled.”
She got up unsteadily from the ground.
Though her tears had fallen fiercely, she forced a broad smile.
She casually took the photo.
Snap! Two sharp sounds— the photo shredded into countless pieces, falling back into the trash bin.
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“Let’s go. Once we finish moving, I’ll cook a proper meal for you tonight.”
“After all, you’re the one who got me this official job, and thanks for the supplements too.”
The heavy rain continued on and off for a week.
Jingbei officially entered deep autumn.
With her gentle personality and exceptional painting skills, Yu Zao soon became the most popular teacher at the senior university.
Several wealthy elderly women invited her to their homes.
Initially, she wanted to refuse.
But unable to resist their overwhelming hospitality and fearing offending them might cost her job, she reluctantly agreed to visit.
What she didn’t expect was that Fu Shiyong would appear at the banquet with Yu Yue.
“Did you see? Just now, the future Mrs. Fu only frowned slightly, and Mr. Fu immediately guessed she wasn’t used to wearing high heels.”
“Right! He even personally asked a waiter to bring slippers and knelt on one knee to help her change.”
“That’s not all. Did you notice how unhappy Mr. Fu looked whenever another man approached the future Mrs. Fu?”
“Yes, to assert his claim, he even got a little fish tattooed on his wrist.”
Yu Zao didn’t want any trouble and slipped into the bathroom.
She planned to find an excuse about feeling unwell and leave.
But no matter what, the gossip about how much Fu Shiyong adored Yu Yue followed her like a shadow, impossible to shake off.
Outside, the murmurs continued.
She sat dejectedly on the toilet.
Unlike the future Mrs. Fu, who also wasn’t used to high heels, her heels were raw and bleeding, and no one had helped her change into slippers.
She had also been harassed by a rich heir.
If Fu Shiyong had seen it, he would probably have just said, “Are you really entertaining clients here now?”
As for that tattoo...
In the most private spot over her heart, on a rainy night three years ago when she left, she had stormed into a tattoo parlor like a madwoman and forced the female artist to ink a small fish.
Buzz.
Her cracked phone vibrated softly.
—[Big sister, let me guess, are you hiding in some dark corner, envying my happiness bitterly right now?]
—[Wah~ so pitiful, a lifelong loser standing so lowly before a winner like me!]
—[Oh, by the way, Fu Yi Yi is so annoying, he kept interrupting my private time with Shiyong, so I locked him alone in the basement of the villa.]
—[Sister, look how pitiful the little guy is—shivering with fear and running a high fever.]
Yu Yue sent three or four photos in quick succession.
In the photos, Fu Yi Yi screamed and howled, even banging his soft little body against the hard iron door.
Meanwhile, on the third-floor lounge, Fu Shiyong tugged at his collar, sweat beading densely on his forehead.
He asked his assistant, “How did things go with those socialites sent to the ladies’ restroom? Did Yu Zao hear everything?”
“Did she... get jealous? Did she... cry?”