Chapter 62: Can You Forgive Me? Bonus Chapter for Reaching 1,500 Diamonds

The police had found new clues regarding Fu Yanming’s case and had cleared him of murder charges. Yet, there was no escaping the accusations of drug use and assaulting a young girl. The parents of the female university student refused to accept these findings, convinced that the Fu family had manipulated evidence and found someone to take the blame. The girl’s cousin posted radical opinions online; most people sided with them, though a few believed the detectives weren't fools—the evidence was clear, and clinging to Fu Yanming was just the family trying to extort money, feeding off tragedy.

With the case stirring up a storm throughout the city and capturing the nation’s attention, the North City Detective Bureau released every confirmed update online, ensuring the public was informed and curbing rumor-mongering. The cousin’s posts were answered directly by the Bureau, their tone reassuring, urging him to trust the police.

With murder suspicions dismissed, the outcome now rested on the lawyers’ skill—there was hope for a lighter sentence. The Fu family had hired the best criminal defense team available.

From the beginning, the Fu family’s attitude had been exemplary, showing compassion to the girl’s parents and promising annual compensation until their passing, promising a caretaker after their retirement, ensuring they wouldn’t suffer a lonely old age due to their daughter's loss. They agreed to triple compensation as dictated by the court.

Fu Yongyi and Tang Qiong personally held a press conference, sincerely apologizing to the public and the family, their demeanor upright. As the matter dragged on, online commentary became varied, and soon negative rumors about the girl herself began to surface.

People questioned how, if she was such a model student, she could be found dressed that way in such a nightclub. Previously, outrage had drowned out such voices, but as tempers cooled, these opinions multiplied. Then, more rumors emerged—claims that she was not as innocent as she appeared, that she worked at clubs, had been kept as a mistress, had been pregnant and had an abortion.

At first, many refuted these claims, but as more voices joined, some even dug up old videos, zooming in on the girl’s attire, which was indeed quite revealing. This seemed to confirm the rumors, and public opinion shifted.

But the girl was gone. The frenzy didn’t escalate; sympathy faded, replaced by judgment that she brought it on herself. Once sympathy was withdrawn, the family’s actions were viewed as extortion, and it was concluded that “like breeds like”—no wonder such parents raised such a daughter.

The blame was then laid at the parents’ feet, accused of failing to educate their child properly. The direction of public opinion was completely skewed. Focus turned away from Fu Yanming and landed squarely on the victim.

...

Si Bei District.

Jiang Shuzhi was quite satisfied with the current direction of public opinion.

Fu Yanzheng sat at his desk, Fu Yongyi’s face brimming with joy as he looked at his second son and then at the old lady’s pleased expression, feeling a surge of excitement. Yet beneath it, he felt uneasy.

He pondered for a moment and said, “Mother, Yanming is still a child of our Fu family. You can’t just abandon him. I believe after this ordeal, when he gets out of prison, he’ll change for the better, start anew. I trust he can improve. Didn’t you always say a family must be united to withstand outsiders?”

Jiang Shuzhi’s smile faded, her gaze cold. “If I had truly abandoned him, would I bother with all this? Helping to salvage his reputation, reducing his sentence? Yongyi, this child ended up like this because you spoiled him. Fortunately, you have two sons. Yanzheng has proved himself, and it’s remarkable he’s managed to turn things around despite Yanming’s calamity. It just shows he’s got some real ability.”

Fu Yongyi glanced at Fu Yanzheng and nodded, “Yes, yes, I know. Both are my sons, of course I care for them equally. Now Yanming is in trouble, naturally I worry more about him.”

“Hmph, do you think I’m blind? Since childhood, you only cared about Yanming. When have you ever shown Yanzheng any attention? Luckily, the boy is ambitious—he excelled even without your concern.”

Jiang Shuzhi exhaled, waving her hand. “Enough, the New Year’s nearly here. How are the donations and supplies coming along?”

“All ready, in a few days Tang Qiong and I will travel to the northwest to deliver supplies to the children there.”

Jiang Shuzhi nodded and rubbed her forehead. “This time, our family’s losses have been severe. Remember this well: whatever you do in the future, use your head first. Don’t act before you think, or it’ll be too late.”

“Yes, yes, you’re right, Mother. From now on, I’ll consult you before doing anything.”

“But I won’t always be here. You can’t rely on me for everything.”

Fu Yongyi chuckled, “Mother, may you live a hundred years.”

“Don’t joke with me. And don’t treat your elder brother as an enemy. You’re not adversaries. Whoever leads this family in the future, you’re still brothers, still family. Help each other, so no one can exploit you. Do you understand?”

“I understand, I understand.” He replied quickly.

Jiang Shuzhi knew her son’s nature well; such quick answers were mere perfunctory gestures.

She waved him off, “Go now.”

“Yes, Mother, rest early, don’t overexert yourself.”

The three left the study.

Fu Yanzheng said, “It’s late, I’ll go to my room, Mom, Dad.”

Fu Yongyi didn’t respond; Tang Qiong turned to him, smiling, patting his shoulder, “You’ve worked hard lately. Rest early.”

“Mm.”

Fu Yanzheng went to his room.

After he left, Tang Qiong’s smile faded. “You only think of Yanming.”

“What else? Yanming is my son.” He glanced at her. “Now that Yanzheng’s shining, you’re happiest. But don’t forget, Yanming is your own son too, born from you. You should care for him.”

Tang Qiong began, “You—”

Before she could finish, Fu Yongyi walked away.

Just then, Granny Song came with tea, bumping into Fu Yongyi.

She quickly stepped aside; Fu Yongyi looked at her, paused, and politely greeted, “Granny Song.”

“Second Master.”

He smiled, then glanced back at Tang Qiong, “Aren’t you coming?”

Tang Qiong hurried after him.

“Granny Song, we’ll be leaving now.”

“Take care, Second Master.”

Once they had left, Granny Song entered the study.

She placed the tea on the table. “Second Master and Second Madam seemed to be arguing outside.”

Jiang Shuzhi looked up, took the tea, blew aside the leaves. “About the child?”

“I think so.” Granny Song glanced at her, thought for a moment, then asked, “Are you really planning to cultivate the Fourth Young Master?”

Jiang Shuzhi chuckled softly, “I’ve spent years nurturing Yanchuan—one doesn’t change heirs so easily. Some things shouldn’t involve him directly; he hasn’t officially taken over yet, and his hands should stay clean.”

She paused, sighed gently, but quickly regained composure. “Any news from the Lin family lately? Has Fu Juxing made any moves?”

Granny Song shook her head. “Juwan Company has been handed over to Lin Zhounan. He seems to have truly conceded, preparing to emigrate with Bai, and won’t interfere here anymore.”

Jiang Shuzhi was silent, seemingly focused on her tea.

Granny Song glanced at her, hesitated, then said, “After all this time, we haven’t found anything. Is it possible we’re overthinking?”

“Overthinking?” Jiang Shuzhi smiled, set down the cup, raised her eyes. “If, three years ago, he hadn’t married Lin Wanbai and left with Lin Yao, I might believe him. But he didn’t—he calmly married Lin Wanbai, lived as a dutiful husband for three years. You can’t find anything on him now. The issue isn’t what he does, but what Lin Zhaowei and Lin Zhounan plan.”

“He’s done all he should. But luckily, I have a clever granddaughter—Miaomiao’s surprise truly is a blessing. Her marriage to Lin Zhounan aids me.”

Granny Song said, “Miaomiao is sharp, but sometimes rash and unconsidered. Who knows what method she used to get Lin Zhounan to marry her. But Lin Zhounan isn’t foolish, trained personally by Old Master Lin. It’s unsettling to think he’d be so easily threatened.”

Jiang Shuzhi’s smile deepened. “Everyone has a weakness. Lin Zhounan is outstanding—I’ve never doubted his ability, and he has a weakness. Their family is different from ours; those raised by Lin Da-ge have a bottom line—never ruthless, never harming their kin for any reason.”

“That is both their fatal flaw and their key to success.”

Granny Song: “Is that how you raised the eldest young master?”

She sighed, “A family needs someone with a good heart; if everyone is the same, it won’t last. Unfortunately, hatred blinded me in the past; now some things can’t be undone, and I must press forward. Before I die, neither Lin family nor Fu Juxing can remain.”

...

Lin Wanbai paid no heed to the Fu family’s business; most of what she knew about Fu Yanming came from Aunt Rong, enough to grasp the situation.

As the New Year drew closer, Lin Wanbai thought of Han Chen and asked Yang Ruyue about him.

He had officially joined the Fu Corporation as an intern in HR, living a routine life between work and home, occasionally meeting Xu Yinxue at the library. Though work kept him busy, they kept in touch.

“Did his parents find him?”

“They did. They want to see him, but Han Chen refuses.”

Lin Wanbai paused, then asked, “What are his plans for the New Year?”

“I asked; he said he’ll stay here.”

“Not going home?”

“No, he says he never will. He’ll build his life here.”

Lin Wanbai nodded, thought a moment. “Before New Year, send him some gifts.”

“Alright.”

“Wish him a happy New Year and success in his career for me.”

“Okay.”

As soon as she hung up, Fu Juxing’s voice rose behind her, “Whose career are you wishing well?”

Startled, Lin Wanbai spun around. “How did you get up here?” She hurried over, steadying him. “You’re not fully recovered yet—how did you come up on your own? Where’s Aunt Rong?”

“I wanted to come up. I’m much better. Don’t treat me like an invalid.”

“Pfft, who’s treating you like an invalid? I just don’t want you to hurt yourself again. Your wounds aren’t fully healed—going up and down can strain them. I worry about you.”

“I know my own body; you needn’t worry too much.” He withdrew his hand, placing it on her shoulder, then led her to sit on the nearby chair. “Who were you calling?”

“Yang Ruyue.”

“And whose career are you wishing well?” He remembered keenly.

Lin Wanbai smiled, not hiding it. “Han Chen.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Him, hmm.”

“I used him as a pawn before—it must have hurt him. I just want to make amends. I won’t do such things again; it’s neither beneficial nor decent.”

“But it worked, didn’t it? You got what you wanted, and he didn’t suffer, really. In fact, he gained a lot—house, car, job, prospects. If being your pawn comes with so many perks, I’d want to be one myself.”

Lin Wanbai snorted, “If you want to scold me, do it. Don’t say things just to poke me. I know I was wrong, and I won’t do it again.”

“Even if you wanted to, I wouldn’t agree. If you spend another night alone with another man, I might kill someone.”

He said it with a gentle smile, his whole demeanor warm, his gaze tender.

Lin Wanbai didn’t take it seriously; she feigned surprise, “Are you so violent?”

Her act was so convincing that Fu Juxing was briefly stunned, about to explain, when Lin Wanbai switched to a coy expression, cheerfully cupping his face, “But I like it.”

She nestled into his arms as she spoke.

Fu Juxing’s heart tightened; his hand moved from her back to her neck, fingers gently caressing.

Lin Wanbai felt ticklish, her heart pounding wildly. She struggled, turned, but before she could speak, her lips were sealed.

He kissed her for a long time, reluctant to let go.

Her gaze stirred something in Fu Juxing he couldn’t control.

Aunt Rong came up with clothes. She saw them and silently retreated, smiling as she descended the stairs.

When she reached the bottom, she ran into Lin Zhounan, just back from work, looking tired.

Noticing her smiling eyes and seeing her come from the third floor, he glanced upstairs.

Aunt Rong composed herself. “Young Master Lin.”

Lin Zhounan nodded, withdrew his gaze, and went to his room without asking.

Near dinner time, Lin Wanbai and Fu Juxing were still upstairs; Aunt Rong stood at the stairs.

Lin Zhounan came out, seeing her still there, looked upstairs and reminded, “Dinner’s ready soon.”

“I know.” She nodded, but made no move.

“Tell them to come down.”

“Alright.” She agreed, but didn’t go up immediately.

Just then, Lin Wanbai’s voice sounded, and the two appeared on the stairs. Under the lights, Lin Wanbai’s face was flushed, her lips especially red. Seeing Lin Zhounan, her shyness was obvious but her expression remained poised.

She helped Fu Juxing down.

Fu Juxing looked unchanged, calm and composed, called “Uncle” to Lin Zhounan.

His gaze lingered between them, then he went downstairs. “Dinner time.”

Lin Wanbai returned to her room to wash her face, her heart still racing, warmth lingering.

Just a bit more and she would have lost herself completely in the moment.

She exhaled deeply, still restless.

After dinner, the itch in her heart hadn’t subsided; if anything, it had intensified.

She had no mind to chat with Lin Jingyu, her gaze clinging to Fu Juxing, never leaving him for a second.

Lin Jingyu sat beside her, talking about New Year plans. This year, the old master wanted to return home to honor ancestors; the old house had been renovated two years ago, making it a perfect time.

“It’s just a rural place, a bit dull. But you haven’t been home in ages; you should visit. People shouldn’t forget their roots. Besides, you’re emigrating—you should spend some days there.”

Lin Wanbai didn’t say much, only nodded, “Mm.”

Lin Jingyu noticed her gaze, glanced at Fu Juxing.

She waved her hand in front of Lin Wanbai’s eyes; Lin Wanbai snapped back, smiled, “What?”

Her face reddened unconsciously.

Lin Jingyu laughed, tapped her forehead, “Were you listening to me?”

“I was. I know we’re going home for ancestor worship. Old home is cold, but otherwise fine—good environment, fresh air, a few days is no problem. You were talking so much to convince yourself, afraid it’ll be boring. You planned to travel over New Year, right? With Dad?”

She poked her forehead again, “You’re clever.”

Lin Wanbai giggled, “You go on trips every year; it’s nothing new. Just make an exception this year—it’s like a vacation. Our old home is beautiful, a southern water town, bridges and flowing streams, very poetic.”

“All right, all right. In a couple days, come shopping with me. I’ll let you spend tonight with Ah Xing, go on.”

Lin Wanbai: “Then we’ll head to our room.”

“Mm.” Lin Jingyu nodded, “Take it easy.”

Lin Wanbai’s face reddened again; she clicked her tongue, said no more, and went with Fu Juxing to their room.

As soon as they entered, before the lights could be turned on, Lin Wanbai turned, and Fu Juxing embraced her.

Her breathing was uneven; she clung to his clothes, trying to regain composure.

But both were on the same wavelength; once they connected, restraint was lost.

...

Late at night, Lin Wanbai woke suddenly, still hadn’t showered, feeling uncomfortable.

The night lamp cast a gentle glow; Fu Juxing’s sleeping profile looked peaceful, obedient. Lin Wanbai smiled, content and joyful, leaned over and kissed his lips, not once but twice.

No matter how many kisses, it never felt enough; she finally restrained herself.

She couldn’t be too reckless—he wasn’t fully recovered. When he was well...

Feeling uncomfortable, she needed a shower. When he was well, he’d carry her to the bath after, but now, injured and lazy, she just cuddled him to sleep.

She kissed him again, then got up to shower.

Afterward, she felt hungry and unusually alert. Sitting by the bed a while, hunger prevailed, so she went to the kitchen.

In the quiet of night, she cooked something, her mind replaying their entwined moments.

She loved most to see him lose control.

This time, she saw the whole progression—self-control to surrender—and etched it in her heart.

She felt unprecedented satisfaction, more than ever before.

Her smile grew uncontrollably.

She was so lost in her thoughts she didn’t notice someone behind her.

Until a knock startled her; she turned to see Lin Zhounan at the door. He entered, took a bottle of ice water from the fridge.

He came to her side, glanced at the pot, pressed the cold bottle to her cheek, “What are you thinking? Your face is so red.”

The cold was shocking, and Lin Wanbai shivered, “Are you trying to kill me!” She punched his arm. “Drinking ice water in winter, are you that hot?”

“I think it’s you who’s hot.” He retreated, leaned on the counter, opened the bottle, handed it to her, “Want a sip, cool down?”

Lin Wanbai pushed it away, “No, I don’t want to cool down.”

Lin Zhounan chuckled, withdrew his hand, took a sip himself.

Lin Wanbai turned off the stove; the pot held a single bun.

“You’re amazing, just one tiny bun. Might as well not eat.”

She picked it up with chopsticks, blew on it, ignoring his teasing.

The bun was small—since both women in the house feared gaining weight, the maids made them petite, like mini steam buns, vegetarian, bland.

Lin Wanbai ate in small bites, seemingly content.

Lin Zhounan didn’t leave but stood watching her eat, holding the cold bottle.

Her pajamas belonged to Fu Juxing; they hung large on her, like a child in adult clothes, and from the exposed skin, it was clear she wore nothing underneath.

His gaze lingered for a second at her collarbone before turning away, taking another gulp of water. “Eat slowly, I’m going back.”

“Mm.” She replied casually.

At the kitchen door, he paused, looked back; she was still focused on her bun, unconcerned with his comings and goings.

“Before we go home, I’ll invite Fu Miao for dinner. If you don’t like it, you can avoid her.”

Lin Wanbai took a bite, glanced up, chewed for a while, then uttered a simple “Mm,” her face expressionless. As she said, she no longer cared about such things, and truly didn’t; they couldn’t shake her emotions anymore.

Lin Zhounan thought, this little girl—when ruthless, she was more heartless than anyone.

“Good night.”

“Night.”

...

A week before New Year, Lin Wanbai accompanied Lin Jingyu shopping.

It wouldn’t feel right to celebrate without new clothes, and they needed to get their hair and beauty done.

The day’s schedule was packed.

At the salon, they ran into Fu Miao.

The famous stylists in the circle were few; Lin Wanbai always went to Tony. She’d called ahead and booked. But when she arrived, Fu Miao was already there with a friend.

The friend turned—Lin Wanbai recognized her: Zhao Yiweng, the third Miss of the Zhao family, currently quite popular. Lin Wanbai understood Fu Miao’s connections, but now that the Zhao and Fu families had fallen out, seeing them together felt odd.

Was it really coincidence? Lin Wanbai didn’t know, nor care. If Fu Miao wanted to show off, Lin Wanbai saw no need to indulge her.

But clearly, Fu Miao wasn’t so reckless.

As soon as they entered, Fu Miao stood up—her hair was still being done, but she hurried over, smiling and polite. “I heard from Ah Zhong you’d be coming this afternoon. I thought I’d finish quickly, but it’s taken longer. I’m really sorry. I’ll have Ah Zhong start with you, and I can wait.”

Zhao Yiweng came over to greet them too.

Those who moved in circles of fame and fortune knew how to ingratiate themselves.

The Lin children were known for their good manners, never bullying others, and even if they disliked someone, as long as they were polite, they could be just as courteous, almost like sisters. Everyone had these skills; the acting was equally matched.

Lin Wanbai smiled, “No problem. My mother and I use different stylists, and I’m just having a touch-up. Ah Zhong is skilled, can do two heads at once, no issue.”

Ah Zhong nodded repeatedly, “My fault—I messed up the color, causing Miss Fu to need another hour. The tools are new, and I didn’t use yours.”

“No worries, I can get new ones.”

Lin Jingyu glanced around, then turned to Lin Wanbai, “This room’s a bit crowded. Shall we come another day and go for the beauty treatment first?”

“That works.” Lin Wanbai nodded. The beauty salon was upstairs.

As they prepared to leave, Fu Miao stepped forward, holding Lin Wanbai’s hand apologetically, “Xiaobai, I really didn’t mean to—my friends said Ah Zhong’s skills were good, so I came. I had no idea I’d bump into you and disrupt your plans. I swear, if I’d known he was your personal stylist, I would have gone elsewhere.”

Before Lin Wanbai could reply, Lin Jingyu stepped up, took Fu Miao’s hand, gently patting it, smiling, “I wondered why you looked familiar—it’s Yuan Yu-jun’s daughter, Fu Miao. Haven’t seen you in person in ages; only caught glimpses on TV recently. You look much better in person, but last time you seemed unmade up, too exhausted—really not a good look.”

“But it’s understandable. Plagiarism is serious. I don’t mingle with the fashion world, but I know some designers, and for you, it’s a fatal blow. How did you lose your way? Don’t make the same mistake again. Your mother and I go way back—you probably don’t remember, but when you were three or four, she brought you to our house.”

“You and Xiaobai are the same age. I thought two girls could keep each other company, and since I didn’t plan to have another child, I hoped you’d be like sisters, close and loving, so Xiaobai wouldn’t be lonely.”

Lin Jingyu smiled kindly, playing the role of an open-minded elder. She sighed, “Too bad your stars weren’t aligned; after a while, you quarreled, and you cried terribly. I thought Xiaobai bullied you—she was spoiled, and even at three or four, quite headstrong.”

Fu Miao said nothing, just smiled, listening.

She couldn’t recall childhood, but since she could remember, Lin Wanbai had always been a mountain she couldn’t climb—outshone in everything.

Yuan Yu-jun and Lin Jingyu did have ties, though not harmonious; they’d competed openly and secretly for years, and their rivalry transferred to their children.

But Yuan Yu-jun, like Fu Miao, rarely won, except perhaps in husbands—though not in looks.

Now, even her daughter couldn’t compare, and most of her frustration landed on Fu Miao.

Gradually, Fu Miao’s dislike for Lin Wanbai deepened.

She was determined to win, just once.

Lin Jingyu said, “Later, I checked the cameras—it was you who took Xiaobai’s favorite toy, so she pushed you, not too hard, but you cried so fiercely. You were adorable then, much cuter than Xiaobai. Now, you’ve both changed so much.”

She left it at that.

Fu Miao’s expression didn’t change; she feigned embarrassment, “So that’s how it was—I owe Xiaobai an apology. Hearing you talk about it is a bit embarrassing.”

She guided Lin Jingyu to a chair, “I’m curious about our childhood. So Xiaobai and I were rivals as toddlers? Tell me more; it’s rare we meet at the salon—go ahead with your hair, I’ll wait.”

Lin Jingyu hadn’t expected Fu Miao to accept her teasing so calmly; it was interesting.

Lin Wanbai followed Fu Miao’s lead and called Ah Zhong to start her hair.

Lin Jingyu sat chatting with Fu Miao about childhood tales.

Lin Wanbai went to the washroom; there were professionals for hair and massage.

Ah Zhong stood by, glanced outside, and whispered, “She’s doing it on purpose.”

Lin Wanbai closed her eyes, smiled, “I know.”

Ah Zhong’s reputation was built in part thanks to her; he was her person.

He told her about Fu Miao’s odd behavior.

“My fault for letting slip you were coming—she’s been dragging out the process, redoing the color three times, never satisfied, losing her temper.”

Lin Wanbai said, “You’ve been patient.”

“I don’t mind, but I feel bad for affecting your mood.”

“I’m not bothered—watching clowns lifts my spirits.” She opened her eyes, glanced at him, smiled, “You’re a good little brother.”

Ah Zhong chuckled.

It was true; he was a year younger, but started working early, and thanks to her, he’d achieved success.

There were more grateful people than heartless ones in the world.

Lin Wanbai believed this, so she was generous and stood up for others.

Kindness always brings reward, and even if not, there’s no harm in doing good.

After a while, Lin Jingyu entered.

Ah Zhong left to work on Fu Miao’s hair and closed the door.

Lin Jingyu lay back, clicked her tongue, “That girl’s acting is impressive—better than her mother. No wonder she could win Zhounan; with that look, I bet she’s a real seductress in front of men.”

Lin Wanbai smiled; Fu Miao’s scheming against her and Lin Zhounan was buried in her heart, never told to Lin Jingyu or Lin Zhaowei, not wanting to worry them.

After a while, Lin Jingyu sighed, “If she marries in, the house will be full of drama.”

...

The next evening, Lin Zhounan brought Fu Miao home.

She brought many gifts, very polite.

Just then, Lin Wanbai and Fu Juxing were about to leave for the Fu family, a pre-New Year visit to the old master.

They’d wanted to avoid a clash, but ran into each other.

Lin Wanbai smiled, “You’re so courteous—when Zhounan visits the Fu family, he won’t know how to prepare.”

“You’re heading out?” Fu Miao noticed their attire, surprised.

“Yes, we’re going to Si Bei today.”

“Grandma didn’t mention it.”

“We decided last minute, haven’t told the family yet.”

Lin Jingyu said, “Go quickly; you’ll miss dinner there. Old lady doesn’t tolerate lateness.”

Lin Wanbai waved at Fu Miao, “We’ll go now, enjoy your meal.”

She helped Fu Juxing out; the car arrived, and Lin Jingyu saw them off.

Fu Miao stood at the door, watching them leave.

She turned to Lin Zhounan, smiling, “Xiaobai didn’t know I was coming?”

He glanced at her, didn’t answer, “Let’s go inside.”

Fu Miao kept smiling, nodded, “Alright.”

They entered; Lin Zhaowei came downstairs, warmly welcomed Fu Miao, reproached Lin Wanbai’s mischief.

...

In the car, Lin Wanbai sneezed, rubbed her nose, “Someone must be cursing me.”

Fu Juxing handed her a tissue, smiling, “We shouldn’t have gone back today.”

“Zhounan said I could avoid it if I wasn’t happy. I did as he wished. I really don’t want to see it, not even to pretend. If Fu Miao wants to act, I won’t play along. Is that wrong?”

“We’re out now, aren’t we?”

Lin Wanbai nodded, no longer upset, and dropped the subject.

On the way, she called Jiang Shuzhi to let her know they were coming.

Jiang Shuzhi was gracious, said she’d wait for them for dinner.

They left late, and winter nights fall quickly; by the time they reached Si Bei, it was dark.

At the door, they ran into Fu Yanchuan, just back home—a stroke of fate.

Lin Wanbai still felt awkward around him.

Fu Yanchuan greeted them first, “Here to see Grandpa?”

Lin Wanbai walked close to Fu Juxing, quietly holding his arm.

Fu Juxing said, “Yes, how’s Grandpa?”

“Recovering well, but age slows it down. Might not regain full mobility.”

Lin Wanbai wanted to speak but held back, squeezing Fu Juxing’s hand.

He glanced at her, smiled, “That serious?”

“Yes, delayed going to the hospital, worsened the injury. Age doesn’t help.”

“As long as he recovers.”

They arrived.

Fu Yanchuan went in first, Lin Wanbai and Fu Juxing followed.

As promised, Jiang Shuzhi waited for them for dinner.

With New Year approaching, the Fu mansion was simply decorated, adding festive cheer.

Jiang Shuzhi said, “Today, Fu Miao had dinner in Pujiang. Why are you back now?” She approached Fu Juxing, placed a hand on his arm, looked him up and down, her gaze showing concern. “How’s your injury? Yanming was truly wicked, so extreme, hiring someone to attack you. He did wrong and tried to blame you.”

“I heard you didn’t press charges?”

“We’re family; how could I? Besides, I’m fine now.”

Jiang Shuzhi nodded, “Yes, yes, we’re family. You’re a good child—even after all this, you repay evil with kindness. I was wrong; I shouldn’t have treated you that way before. Can you forgive me?”