Chapter Twenty-Seven

Under Lin Yu's relentless tugging, Fu Chen finally released his grip. The moment he let go, Shen Huaijing slid to the floor like a heap of shattered clay, losing consciousness completely.

Lin Yu laid Shen Huaijing on the sofa and checked her breath—there was still a faint trace of life. He was about to call for an ambulance when Fu Chen stopped him.

Fu Chen’s brows drew together in impatience. “Don’t call an ambulance. News of Shen Huaijing being taken out of the Fu Family Building by paramedics must not leak out.”

He glanced at Shen Huaijing with disgust, his voice icy. “Since she’s so determined to die, there’s no need for us to go to great lengths.”

Lin Yu observed Shen Huaijing closely; her breathing was slowly returning to normal—it seemed she was out of immediate danger. Turning to Fu Chen, he voiced his dissatisfaction. “I know she must have said something deliberately to provoke you.”

Fu Chen tugged at his tie in frustration. “That woman is insane. Something’s gone completely wrong in her mind.”

“She overheard our conversation just now,” Lin Yu said, his expression grave.

Fu Chen froze, his tone softening. Could it be that she heard he intended to exploit her feelings, and so she deliberately said those words to enrage him, determined to seek death?

Fu Chen had always thought Shen Huaijing was like him—only caring about interests, never swayed by emotion.

In fact, when Shen Huaijing entered, Fu Chen suspected she might have overheard his conversation with Lin Yu at the door. But he miscalculated one thing: he thought she would play along, never realizing this would touch her bottom line.

She knew exactly which words would drive Fu Chen into a rage, yet she insisted on saying them, refusing to bow her head.

Now Shen Huaijing lay on the sofa, her face twisted in pain; her once rosy lips were now pale and frightening. Fu Chen went over, crouched beside her, and examined her closely.

Lin Yu handed Fu Chen a glass of warm water, urging, “Don’t act on impulse anymore. If I hadn’t arrived in time today, you would have strangled Shen Huaijing to death. How would you have dealt with that?”

“I have plenty of things to deal with at home. I’ll leave you to it. Take care.” Lin Yu patted Fu Chen’s shoulder heavily.

Fu Chen found a towel, dampened it with warm water, and gently wiped Shen Huaijing’s cheeks.

He had to admit, Shen Huaijing was beautiful; even without makeup, she was alluring, her complexion flawless, fair and smooth. Her eyelashes, like butterfly wings, cast a dense shadow beneath her eyes.

After wiping away the beads of sweat from her face, Fu Chen carefully tried to feed her water. He had never cared for a woman like this, not even Lin Yiqing.

Perhaps it was guilt that drove him—at this moment, he only wanted Shen Huaijing to wake up healthy and whole.

In her haze, Shen Huaijing felt someone tenderly wiping her face; water slid down her throat, easing the dryness.

Restless, she moved slightly, like a startled fawn.

Am I not dead? Who’s caring for me? I think I heard someone come in at the end, shouting Fu Chen’s name. Was it Lin Yiqing?

Shen Huaijing’s consciousness gradually cleared; she could distinctly feel someone tending to her. The last person to care for her so attentively was… Could it be him today?

Slowly, Shen Huaijing opened her eyes to see Fu Chen crouched beside her, holding a cup of water and looking at her with a hint of guilt.

Meeting Fu Chen’s gaze, Shen Huaijing immediately recalled the murderous rage in his eyes moments ago. She sat up in panic, her muscles taut, pressing herself tightly against the sofa to keep her distance from him.

Fu Chen awkwardly withdrew his suspended hand and placed the water on the table. “I lost control of my emotions just now.”

Shen Huaijing hadn’t expected Fu Chen to lower himself, especially after the harsh words she’d just spoken.

“It’s over, let’s just forget it,” Shen Huaijing replied indifferently, rising from the sofa. Suddenly, darkness swept over her vision and she collapsed straight to the floor.

Fu Chen reacted swiftly, stepping forward to catch her, cradling her head in his lap. “Don’t move. You’re oxygen-deficient right now—very prone to fainting.”

Shen Huaijing struggled to rise from Fu Chen’s lap, but he held her firmly. She ceased protesting and muttered, “Isn’t this exactly what you want? My shares will become yours, and you can openly be with Lin Yiqing.”

Fu Chen was surprised; Shen Huaijing had so easily pierced the veil between them, leaving him momentarily speechless.

“Why are you silent? Did I hit the mark?” Shen Huaijing pressed, seeing he didn’t respond.

She couldn’t quite understand herself. Hearing Fu Chen say the trip was merely a ploy to use emotion against her, the ache in her heart was indescribable.

But was it the pain of being used, or the pain of hearing Fu Chen admit he had never truly treated her sincerely?

She couldn’t tell.

“There’s nothing to say. Our marriage was always an act, wasn’t it? Why care about these things now?” Fu Chen spoke without any feeling, as if recounting someone else’s story.

Shen Huaijing mocked herself. “Yes. But I still want to ask you one thing.”

“Was there never a single moment of doubt?” Her hair, like seaweed, spilled across Fu Chen’s thigh; her brown eyes sparkled, as if searching for hope.

He should have answered immediately, yet now the words stuck in his throat.

In a low voice, he said, “No.”

With that, Fu Chen closed his eyes, unable to face Shen Huaijing. Whether he wavered or not, only he knew.

Seeing Fu Chen’s demeanor, Shen Huaijing simply climbed off his lap, tidied her hair. “Alright, I’ve said everything I needed to, and since you’re not worried, neither am I.”

She took a lipstick from her small bag and touched up her makeup. “Don’t bother going after my five percent shares. Tonight, I’ll have Aunt Feng prepare the guest room. Let’s sleep separately.”

Fu Chen knew she meant it this time; his words had truly wounded her pride.

He hesitated. “Is that really necessary?”

Shen Huaijing replied seriously, “It is. Fu Chen, I don’t want to play cat-and-mouse with you anymore. Let’s keep things strictly business.”

With that, she decisively left the office.

Fu Chen sat quietly on the sofa. The resentment and anger pent up in his heart erupted like a volcano. Everything within reach was shattered to pieces; he was like a wild beast lost in time.

After venting, he slid down the wall to the floor amid the wreckage, laughing at himself.