Chapter 39: Yu Zao's Alter Ego?

"Shiyong, where are you going?!"

Just a second ago, he had been gloating while sending a message to Yu Zao. The next moment, he saw this man, who constantly professed his love for her, turn around to head back.

Yu Yue felt deeply unsettled. Her eyes reddened as she blocked his path. "Are you thinking of going back to find her? Do you even know who she is? She has always been a social climber, someone who loves to latch onto the powerful. Now that we’ve given her this opportunity, she’s probably overjoyed."

The driver, acting as their assistant, nodded repeatedly in agreement. "Exactly, Chairman. A woman like Yu Zao—"

*Bang!* With a single kick, and right in front of Yu Yue, he sent the man who dared to insult Yu Zao flying. The man slammed into the car body, blood splattering across the ground.

"Some things should never come out of your mouths!"

As he finished speaking, an invisible gust of wind swept by. Fu Shiyong walked away with rapid, decisive strides.

Sitting in the car, Yu Yue clenched her fists so tightly that her expensive, manicured nails dug deep into the tender flesh of her palms. She gritted her teeth. "Fu Shiyong, you said you would love me for a lifetime. You said you hated Yu Zao to the core. How could you... how could you..."

"Miss Yu, Chairman... I suspect he still holds that—that woman, Miss Yu Zao, in his heart," the assistant said, clutching his violently aching stomach and speaking the truth.

Hearing this, the face that had been veiled by anger turned even more twisted. She sneered, took a mirror from her bag, and examined her naturally plain features from every angle.

A moment later, in the dim VIP parking space, the woman used fingers stained with blood from her own palms to trace her unremarkable facial features, one inch at a time.

"Assistant Wang, tell me, who is more beautiful—me, or that vixen Yu Zao?"

"This..." The assistant hesitated.

*Crash!* The entire mirror was smashed directly into the assistant's face. Yu Yue pressed the jagged glass shards into the man’s skin, slowly and deliberately.

"Does it feel good? So what if you’re good-looking? In the end, isn't it me who wins? Yu Zao, just you wait. Fu Shiyong is as good as mine. He loves me, and only me!"

*Hahaha—*

The terrifying, gruesome laughter echoed for a long time. The assistant screamed in agony until, finally, he went silent. His eyes, his nose, and even his softest lips were shredded into pulp by the shards of glass.

Watching this, Yu Yue clapped her hands with satisfaction and dialed an unsaved number. "As usual. A useless, poor person. Get rid of them for me. One hundred thousand."

"Understood."

Thunder rumbled.

***

In Jingbei, with winter just around the corner, a torrential downpour lashed against the desolate streets.

Inside the SVIP suite, Yu Zao was being held down by three or four men, their hands roaming over her. The socialites' live stream was in full swing. Even the top trending topics on Weibo were filled with lurid, explicit headlines:

*#Fu Group Chairman's ex-wife plays dirty for money#*
*#Prostitute, Yu Zao#*
*#The shameless, venomous ex-wife#*
*#Yu Yue is the only truly perfect, pure-hearted young lady#*

"Hey, brothers, we agreed—thirty minutes each. No fighting over turns."

"Thirty minutes? Can you even handle that, kid? Hahaha..."

The scene was obscene and degrading. Yu Zao, who had been struggling the entire time, suddenly went quiet. Like a fish washed ashore that had lost all vitality, she lay motionless amidst the chaos, her clothes in tatters.

Under the cover of shadows, her hand moved silently toward the fruit knife on the table.

When Fu Shiyong rushed back, the scene that met his eyes as he shoved open the door left the man, who had been accustomed to storms and strife for three years, completely frozen in place.

"Ahhh!!! Mr. Fu, help! Please, save us!"

The socialite's brother, the young heir, was missing an ear, and his groin was a bloody mess. The three or four socialites from Jingbei huddled together, trembling, weeping, and kowtowing in a certain direction, begging for mercy.

As for the other men, even the one least injured had his thumb severed, lying on the floor, waiting to rot.

"Yu Zao, you..."

*Whoosh!*

The fruit knife, still dripping with blood, grazed the man’s stunningly handsome cheek and embedded itself deep into the door frame.

"So, you are Fu Shiyong?"

She spoke every word with deliberate precision. She was still the same Yu Zao, but as he looked into those dark, hollow apricot eyes—eyes that seemed capable of devouring a soul—a sense of intense unease and unfamiliarity choked him.

"What a pathetic, two-faced piece of trash. She has a soft heart and can't let go of the past. But me..."

She walked toward him, leaving a trail of bloody footprints, smiling faintly. She leaned in close and bit his earlobe, her tone bordering on complete madness. "I am not like her! Fu Shiyong, you had best pray that one day, when she truly dies, the person left behind is me!"

The final syllable still lingered on her lips when her battered, blood-soaked, fragile body collapsed backward.

"Wife!"

In his panic, the word slipped out instinctively. Even after they were in the ambulance, Fu Shiyong held her ice-cold hand firmly, as if afraid that at any moment, Yu Zao would turn into a gust of wind, blow away, and be lost to him forever.

***

The emergency doctor looked on with envy. "Sir, you and your wife have such a wonderful relationship. Seeing her hurt, I can tell you're in even more pain."

The doctor was focused on his work and didn't follow online gossip. The man, tall and long-limbed, curled up in the small ambulance, repeatedly rubbing Yu Zao’s hands to warm her.

When they reached the hospital and she was wheeled into the emergency room, he pressed his forehead against the cold wall, banging it with uncharacteristic force.

Chen Fang received the news and rushed over. His first words were, "Fu Shiyong, I’m asking you one thing: are you in love with Yu Yue, or are you still hung up on Yu Zao?"

"I love her."

"Her? Who?"

A long silence followed. The harsh, red light from the emergency room sign cast a glow that seemed to pin down the imposing, formidable Fu Shiyong.

"I owe Yu Yue a great deal. I promised her a status. I promised to take care of her for the rest of her life."

"And?" Chen Fang was fuming.

"But with Yu Zao, I just can't let go..."

Before he could finish, Yang Chen, who had just stepped out of the elevator, threw three iron-fisted punches his way.

"Fu Shiyong, I told you: if you try to have it both ways, you’ll end up with nothing! Get out of here now! Little Yu has me. It’s not your turn, you two-timing scumbag, to play the hero!"

Inside the emergency room, Yu Zao lay on the gurney, her mind in chaos. Even under anesthesia, her over-stimulated consciousness caused her to grab a doctor’s hand and ask anxiously, "What time is it? If my husband comes home from work and doesn't see me, he'll be so worried. No, I can't... the lady I clean for gave me three pounds of pork ribs today. My husband works so hard to support our family, and he has to go out for business dinners at night. He’s so tired; I have to make sure he gets a good meal."

The memories of their life together were precious to her.

Outside the door, Fu Shiyong, now completely calm, stared back at Yang Chen without flinching. He said, "Three years ago, it was Yu Zao who abandoned her husband and child, who betrayed our marriage. And Yu Yue, she has been with me through thick and thin, and she has raised Yiyi so well!"

Suddenly, the heart monitor in the emergency room emitted a shrill, piercing alarm.

In Yu Zao’s lifeless pupils, looking toward an empty space, she smiled—a smile that was brilliant yet wretched.

"Mom, have you come to take me home? They don't love us anymore. Little Yu is so lonely... living... is so exhausting..."