You Wen immediately dropped his spoon, stood up, and made to leave. But Fu Mingchuan’s voice, cold and commanding, halted him: “Stay right where you are!”
You Wen froze in his tracks, then turned around, scanning the table before grabbing a napkin and hurling it at Fu Mingchuan’s face. Tears fell suddenly, unbidden, as he cursed, his voice shaking: “You bastard!”
The kitchen staff, alerted by the noise, came over to see Fu Mingchuan’s clothes smeared and disheveled, his grip still firm on You Wen. “Yes, I am a bastard,” Fu Mingchuan said, his voice rough. “I wasn’t there when you needed me most, and I let you bear all that alone. But what do you want me to do now? You’re not saying anything, and I can’t read your mind.”
His hands tightened on You Wen’s shoulders, enough to hurt him, yet he didn’t let go. He looked straight into You Wen’s eyes. “I can’t guess, You Wen.”
You Wen felt the urge to lash out, to wound Fu Mingchuan with words, but he knew they would have little effect on this man who was always so unbreakable. Instead, he just spoke the truth, his voice small but bitter: “There’s nothing for you to guess. You did nothing wrong by leaving me. After all, you never loved me.”
“You don’t owe me anything. Just because I love you doesn’t mean you have to accommodate me.”
“I don’t want to argue with you. Can you just let me go?”
Fu Mingchuan didn’t release him but insisted, “So what is it you want? Do you just want me to love you?”
You Wen let out a short, sad laugh. “You know better than anyone—you’ll never love anyone.”
For a brief moment, rage twisted across Fu Mingchuan’s face, his lip curling slightly. “That’s a reckless, irresponsible claim.”
“And you know it’s the truth.”
You Wen could no longer stand being there for even a minute. Without even grabbing his phone, he headed out, only to pause as the sound of something shattering behind him made him stop. He’d never seen Fu Mingchuan, usually so composed, lose his cool like this and break things.
But after that brief moment, he stepped forward and left.
No one dared to stop him or say a word. After some time, one of the staff started forward to clean up the broken bowl, only to be stopped by Fu Mingchuan, cigarette in hand: “Leave it.”
The staff left, and Fu Mingchuan sat alone in silence for a long time.
Meanwhile, You Wen hadn’t gone far; he stood near the garden just outside the house, his stubborn gaze fixed on the door. Ten minutes passed, then twenty, and still, Fu Mingchuan didn’t come out.
Though he didn’t see Fu Mingchuan, someone else did arrive.
It was likely that You Wen was standing out of sight, for when Ruan Jing parked and approached the door, he didn’t notice him. He rang the bell and was quickly ushered inside.
As You Wen’s gaze dropped to the grass at his feet, his face grew paler. He turned and slowly walked out of the villa district.
Inside, in the living room, Fu Mingchuan had just stepped forward to greet his visitor. When he saw it was Ruan Jing, his brow furrowed slightly, but he remained polite, inviting him to sit without asking why he’d come.
Ruan Jing thought he must have been mistaken, but he couldn’t help noticing the broken bowl pieces scattered across the floor beyond the partition, disrupting the calm atmosphere.
Ruan Jing had come to discuss a project with Fu Mingchuan, but Fu Mingchuan kept drifting off, and every time Ruan Jing tried to make small talk, Fu Mingchuan redirected the conversation back to business.
After a while, a staff lingered nearby, seemingly uncertain whether to approach. Ruan Jing noticed and asked, “Sister Ling, is something wrong?”
Looking uncomfortable, the staff glanced at Fu Mingchuan. “Sir, the phone upstairs has been ringing continuously. I’m not sure if it’s urgent.”
Fu Mingchuan’s gaze shifted immediately to his phone lying on the countertop. In the next moment, he was already heading upstairs. A moment later, he came down wearing a coat, his another phone in his hand. He told Ruan Jing firmly, “We can talk about work at the company later. I have something else to do. Go back first.”
Ruan Jing’s expression didn’t change. He stood there casually, watching Fu Mingchuan. “What’s up? Do you need my help?”
Fu Mingchuan’s answer was curt: “No need.”
Without waiting for Ruan Jing to respond, Fu Mingchuan grabbed his car keys, heading alone to the garage. Moments later, the sound of an engine started up, and Ruan Jing watched as Fu Mingchuan’s car disappeared from sight. Turning to Sister Ling, he asked, “Where’s Mingchuan rushing off to?”
Sister Ling knew all too well about Fu Mingchuan’s insistence on privacy. Discussing his personal matters with anyone was out of the question, so she responded neutrally, “He doesn’t usually share his plans with us.” Besides, the last time Ruan Jing had shown up at the house unexpectedly, Fu Mingchuan had made it clear he wasn’t keen on receiving uninvited visits.
Ruan Jing’s gaze shifted to the table, where a freshly opened box of hangover medicine sat. “Did he had guests over last night?” he asked.
Sister Ling looked hesitant again, but before she could reply, Ruan Jing chuckled. “Mingchuan’s always been such a loner. He could use a few more friends.”
Sister Ling felt a touch of surprise. She hadn’t sensed a deep familiarity between Fu Mingchuan and Ruan Jing from their interactions, yet Ruan Jing’s tone suggested a certain closeness that puzzled her.
In her view, the young man who had stayed over the previous night was different, if anyone. Fu Mingchuan had personally come to the kitchen in the morning to discuss the menu, double-checking if the three-flavor eggplant might be too greasy for breakfast, only to have it removed from the list when told it would be too heavy. It had been an unusually considerate gesture.
Politely, she offered, “Please stay a little longer. I’ll bring you some fruit.”
But Ruan Jing declined and quickly made his way out. As he circled around the villa area and was about to leave, he suddenly noticed Fu Mingchuan’s car parked half-hidden on the driveway steps.
Ruan Jing drove closer, and without much effort, spotted Fu Mingchuan standing not far away, with You Wen partially obscured behind him.
Fu Mingchuan seemed to be talking to You Wen in a firm, almost admonishing tone. You Wen’s head was lowered, appearing quietly submissive, yet the moment Fu Mingchuan tried to reach for his hand, You Wen brushed it away.
Fu Mingchuan showed remarkable patience and even apologized. “I didn’t mean it that way just now. This is just how you’ve always thought about it. I believe you’re misunderstanding me. I’ve never taken this relationship lightly. I thought it over for a long time before proposing to you, and I thought it over just as much before we separated.”
He paused, adding, “You’re right—I’m not someone who loves easily. Getting too close in a relationship makes me feel burdened.”
“My therapist says I have intimacy issues. I’ve always been distant from my parents. But you’re different.”
“I fear you getting too close, but I also don’t want you too far away. I’m constantly torn, yet when I think about reconciliation, I can only imagine you by my side.”
You Wen cut him off, laying the harshest truth between them: “So, because of your internal conflict, you decided to abandon me?”
Fu Mingchuan’s prolonged silence shattered what little resolve You Wen had left. He’d wanted to ask about Ruan Jing, but now he couldn’t bring himself to say anything more.
When Ruan Jing drove by, he caught sight of an expression on Fu Mingchuan’s face he had never seen before—an armor of unyielding strength suddenly stripped away, leaving only pain and regret. A heavy feeling sank in his chest, and he lost his usual poise and composure. The next moment, in his daze, his car veered off into the garden.
Ruan Jing’s car crashed into the garden, but neither Fu Mingchuan nor You Wen paid any attention.
Fu Mingchuan was unbothered by the minor accident, while You Wen didn’t care because he knew the car was Ruan Jing’s and preferred not to dwell on it.
When Fu Mingchuan offered to take him back to the villa, You Wen insisted on returning to Ganxi Road instead. Fu Mingchuan didn’t argue and drove him back.
That night, Fu Mingchuan barely slept. In the dead of night, he called Chen An, instructing him to find out everyone You Wen had met the previous day and to send him You Wen’s location data.
Chen An had worked with Fu Mingchuan for six years, but this was the first time he’d received such a personal assignment from him in the middle of the night.
Fu Mingchuan had always drawn a clear line between his personal and professional life. Before meeting You Wen, he was as disciplined and detached as a monk. His relationship with You Wen had moved so quickly that he had skipped learning how to love someone properly.
Yet, undeniably, Fu Mingchuan had changed considerably for You Wen. Initially, he had an assistant handle certain matters related to You Wen. Later, realizing it might not be appropriate, he specifically hired an assistant solely to manage anything related to You Wen.
Why had that assistant left?
If Chen An remembered correctly, it was when the assistant started showing more than a casual interest in You Wen.
Fu Mingchuan, who struggled to interpret human closeness, hadn’t noticed anything at first. The assistant would strike up conversations with You Wen regularly, and since You Wen loved to talk, they could easily chat for hours. Fu Mingchuan hadn’t thought much of it until one day, he caught that assistant looking at You Wen with a level of intensity he recognized immediately. By the next day, the assistant was gone.
Later, while in the car, Fu Mingchuan had once asked You Wen if he’d kept in touch with that assistant, but by then, Chen An had already taken measures, and soon the assistant faded from You Wen’s life without much fuss.
Only Chen An knew about the assistant situation and the events of that night.
After that, Chen An had only occasionally helped with things related to You Wen, but most of it Fu Mingchuan handled himself.
Chen An quickly dug up the information Fu Mingchuan wanted. Five minutes after sending it, he received another instruction—Fu Mingchuan wanted him to arrange a gathering. Yet, there was something oddly formal about the guest list.
It wasn’t surprising that Ruan Jing was included, given his close collaboration with Fengcheng and Huading lately, as well as his and Fu Mingchuan’s long-standing friendship. Also invited were some acquaintances of their own age, but what stood out were several older individuals, making it feel more like a formal business event than a social gathering.
But here’s the thing—Fu Mingchuan never attended such gatherings, let alone organized one himself.
Chen An couldn’t make sense of it, but his gut told him it had something to do with You Wen. It seemed that Fu Mingchuan intended to make their relationship public.
Since their engagement, Fu Mingchuan had rarely brought You Wen to any social gatherings or banquets; he didn’t like others staring at You Wen or that You Wen could strike up a friendship with nearly anyone. Tonight, though, Chen An began to feel he might be right.
Fu Mingchuan’s gathering was set for a week later, and during that time, You Wen showed no signs of suspicion, even arranging a meal with his aunt and uncle along with Fu Mingchuan.
Fu Mingchuan arranged the location, arriving early with You Wen and making sure every dish on the table suited the tastes of You Wen and his aunt and uncle. His gestures were thoughtful, though his aunt, You Shi, kept up appearances, praising him warmly.
Yet, as Fu Mingchuan stepped out to take a work call, just as he was returning to the door, he heard You Shi saying, “Why would you want to be with someone like that?”
