Chapter Twenty-One: Yiyi Called Her Mommy

"Chairman, I don't know if Miss Yuzhao cried or was jealous."

"But as soon as she left the restroom, she rushed straight out, hailed a taxi, and left."

The assistant broke into a cold sweat, only managing to get the words out with great difficulty. Yet, the expected outrage did not occur. The man let out an unexpected, soft chuckle.

"She's still the same. Every time she's sad or upset, she hides away to shed tears in secret."

Fu Shiyong slowly rubbed his chest twice. Had there been light to reflect off him, one would have seen a silver chain that looked entirely out of place against his custom-made suit worth hundreds of thousands. Hanging from the chain was that old, faded "sapphire" cufflink.

"Never mind. Tell the driver to prepare the car. I..."

He wanted to go find her. It was a habit he hadn't been able to break for all these years. For Yuzhao, the great Chairman Fu—who stood far above the common masses—truly harbored an uncontrollable helplessness.

He stood up, preparing to leave the lounge, but before he could even push the door open, a violent wave of dizziness washed over him. The heat he had been ignoring surged forward like a tidal wave, crashing down upon him.

The assistant panicked, scrambling to call the host's doctor. However, Yu Yue, wearing a sexy camisole dress, stepped in first to stop him.

"Shiyong has just had a bit too much to drink. You head out first. I'll take care of him; no one is allowed to enter."

"But..." The assistant hesitated.

Yu Yue frowned. "What? Are you not even listening to me, the future Madam Fu?"

Using her status to pressure him, the assistant could only leave, glancing back repeatedly.

Once the door closed, the man collapsed onto the soft sofa, his mind clouded. The incense in the room was silently emitting a sweet, strange scent.

"Wife, I miss you so much. It's been three years; I really miss you!"

That doting, authentic side, stripped of all cold pretense—Fu Shiyong only ever showed this to Yuzhao. With Yu Yue, no matter how affectionate they appeared before reporters and the media, it felt like a grand performance. It was all fake!

"Shiyong, don't blame me. A man must eventually be brought to the point of no return for his heart to truly belong to me, bit by bit."

Yu Yue took off her dress, remaining in only her lingerie, and draped herself over his firm, muscular chest. She began to undo his belt.

He laughed and grabbed her hands. "Little Yu, stop fooling around. I have to work at the construction site tomorrow and entertain clients tonight. I'm so tired; let me sleep for a while."

He called her "wife" with every breath, his heart and mind fixated on Little Yu. Yu Yue felt stifled, her pride wounded. She leaned close to Fu Shiyong’s ear and whispered, "Shiyong, it has been me, Yu Yue, by your side for these past three years. Do you love her more than me?"

"Yu Yue?"

The man's hazy eyes, usually bottomless, were now glazed with desire, so seductive they could pierce a heart. He smiled bitterly and shook his head. "Yu Yue, give me some time. I won't love her anymore. I will learn to hate her. Both I and Yiyi will forget her completely!"

The pain was a struggle—an unwillingness to let go, yet a necessity to do so.

*Bang! Bang! Bang!*

Several loud crashes echoed. A furious Yu Yue threw everything she could reach. She gritted her teeth, her gaze landing on Fu Shiyong’s phone, which kept lighting up with notifications.

A dozen missed calls. The caller ID was marked with a single period: 【.】. It was Yuzhao.

There were also text messages:
—【Fu Shiyong, Yiyi is in trouble. Where are you? Please come and save us.】
—【Fu Shiyong, Yiyi and I are locked in the villa's basement.】
—【I beg you, I’m begging you. You can hate me, but Yiyi is our son. You cannot ignore him!】

Every word was drenched in tears. Yu Yue sneered, bent down, and picked up the phone.

*Click.*

The half-naked man, "holding" the half-naked woman, took an ambiguous selfie. A second later, she hit send.

"Yuzhao, Fu Shiyong is my man. Everything of yours should be mine."

"Competing with me? Then just wait to suffer a fate worse than death, just like your mother!"

Inside the VIP lounge, the sound of heavy breathing grew louder.

Elsewhere, in the basement of the Fu villa, Yuzhao cut her own finger, letting her son—who was suffering from a high fever and severe bleeding—drink a little of her blood so his bodily functions wouldn't fail.

The little boy was shaking violently. He no longer had the strength to cry; he just curled up in Yuzhao's arms, whimpering.

"Mommy, *sob*, I want Mommy!"

*Mommy?* Was he talking about... Yu Yue?

In an instant, the heart-wrenching pain she had endured so many times came flooding back.

"Mommy, don't go. Yiyi will work with Daddy to earn money, lots and lots of money for Mommy."

"Yiyi will be good. I won't spend a penny, I won't eat, I won't play with toys, I won't go to kindergarten."

Fu Yiyi clung to Yuzhao like an octopus, but every one of his incoherent, dream-filled words felt like a blade digging deep into Yuzhao's already shattered heart.

So, three years ago, her son had been so terrified, so frightened, and so humble because of her departure. He was only two! Back then, Yiyi was just a toddler of one or two years old...

"Mommy, am I a burden? If I die, will Mommy come back?"

"Mommy, Daddy said losing you was so painful, so painful. He asked Yiyi if he wanted to be free by leaving with him."

"Mommy, Daddy bled so much, and he kept calling out your name."

Each word was a lash. Yuzhao wanted to cover her ears; she wanted to lie to herself. She would rather believe that after Fu Shiyong climbed to the pinnacle and gained everything, he would no longer have a shred of attachment to her. She would rather believe that on that rainy night three years ago when she left, the man was simply filled with hatred—hating her enough to never want to see her again, rather than harboring the thought of taking his son to the grave with him!

"Fu Shiyong, what exactly do you want me to do? What must I do for you to truly let go?"

"I'm dying! I really might die."

"Heaven, why are you torturing me like this? Why let us love each other, but not let us be together?"

*Rumble—*

It was another stormy night in late autumn. A jagged lightning bolt illuminated Yuzhao’s pale, desperate face. Holding the unconscious Yiyi, she knelt on the ground, bowing her head repeatedly to beg the heavens. She even used the phone, which had no signal, to dial Yang Chen’s number over and over.

"Brother Yang, I want to live. I want to live for a long time. I want to stay with the father and son, I want to..."

*Buzz, buzz.* For a fleeting second, a signal appeared.

Several photos arrived from Fu Shiyong’s number. In them, he and Yu Yue were entangled in an intimate embrace. The glaring hickey on his neck was like a needle, thin as a hair, slowly piercing, inch by inch, into Yuzhao’s soul.

—【Yuzhao, see this? The only one I love now is Yu Yue!】

*Clatter!*

The old phone smashed into pieces on the floor. The chill of the basement seemed to freeze the air before rushing down upon her.

Yuzhao couldn't describe her current state of mind. Was she happy? Happy that Fu Shiyong had truly taken Yu Yue, and that they were truly in love? Or was she heartbroken? Heartbroken that the man had finally moved on, one step ahead of her?

A wave of dizziness hit her. Without medication to ease her condition, the symptoms flared, causing her limbs to tremble and flail uncontrollably. Even though she tried to be careful, the poor little Yiyi was accidentally thrown aside, his head striking the floor and bleeding.

"Yiyi, my son..."

*Clang!*

The iron door of the basement was kicked open from the outside.

"Yuzhao!"