Chapter Seventy-One: Do You Not Hate Fu Chen?

“My real name is Song Hui. My father died when I was twelve, and my mother lost her mind soon after.”

“I stopped going to school early on. I worked three jobs a day just so my mother could receive treatment in the hospital.”

“By chance, I met the Shen couple and discovered, to my shock, that I looked almost identical to Shen Huaiqing. The Shen family needed to get through a crisis and had to form an alliance with the Fu family through marriage, but the real Shen Huaiqing refused. The Shen couple offered me a large sum of money to take her place.”

“And so, I became Shen Huaiqing. But yesterday, Fu Chen learned the truth about who I am. I’m of no further use to him now, and Lin Yiqing is pregnant. Naturally, I’ve become nothing more than a discarded chess piece.”

Yu Yunxi’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as she listened. She had never imagined that such bizarre things could happen in this world, that two unrelated people could look so much alike.

She was equally shocked by the sheer reach of power and influence in this world—how, it seemed, money could resolve almost anything.

Song Hui, noticing Yu Yunxi’s dazed expression, let a cold smile tug at her pale lips.

“If you can’t accept all this, or if you’re afraid of getting into trouble, I can move out.”

Yu Yunxi finally snapped out of her astonishment at these words and hurried to explain, “No, that’s not it. I was just thinking… in this world, it seems that money gives you everything—even a person’s dignity.”

“More or less. In the highest circles, people get whatever they want with a snap of their fingers.”

“So what’s your plan now? Is there anything I can help you with?” Yu Yunxi didn’t want to dwell on such heavy matters and thought it better to discuss what to do next.

Song Hui hesitated for a moment, looking a bit embarrassed. “Actually, there is something you could help me with. All these years, I’ve never gotten over my father’s death. I was young then, and everyone around said he killed himself out of guilt.”

“My father was the chief financial officer of a large company. Later, the company was exposed for tax fraud, and the court pinned the blame on my father. No one expected him to jump off a building when no one was watching.”

“But I know my father wasn’t that kind of person. You have lots of connections—could you help me look into it?” Song Hui’s eyes pleaded with Yu Yunxi.

Yu Yunxi, who had chosen journalism out of a desire to right wrongs, had no hesitation when faced with such a case.

“Of course. What was your father’s name?”

“Song Cheng.”

Yu Yunxi took out her phone and entered the name into her notes, then looked up at Song Hui. “Then from now on, I’ll call you Huihui.”

“Alright. That’s what my mother always called me.” For the first time, Song Hui smiled.

“Come on, let’s see your room,” Yu Yunxi said, leading Song Hui to the bedroom at the end of the hallway.

When they opened the door, Song Hui was surprised to see that the bedspread and curtains were all pink—even the sheets were a soft blush color.

“I never would’ve guessed you were such a girly girl,” Song Hui teased.

Yu Yunxi’s cheeks flushed instantly, and she pretended not to care, fiddling with her hair. “That’s not important. All these are new, so you can sleep easy. Use whatever you like and treat it as your own home.” She drew the curtains, mumbling, “The window might let in a draft, so it’s warmer with the curtains closed.”

Song Hui rolled her suitcase in. Yu Yunxi wanted to help her unpack, but Song Hui refused.

“It’s getting late. What do you want for dinner?” Yu Yunxi leaned against the door, phone in hand, scowling at the recipe app. Why was she so hopeless at cooking?

“I’m really not that hungry. You can just order takeout,” Song Hui replied. She’d already seen the kitchen and knew Yu Yunxi couldn’t cook—there weren’t even basic spices in sight.

Yu Yunxi chuckled, rubbing her nose. “Heh, I really can’t cook. Takeout it is, then.”

A few clicks later, Yu Yunxi had placed the order, and Song Hui had almost finished unpacking.

Just as they were about to head to the living room, Song Hui stood up from the bed and suddenly everything went black. Her knees buckled, and with a thud, she collapsed onto the floor.

Yu Yunxi rushed over at the sound, panic thick in her voice. “Huai—Song Hui! Can you hear me?”

Song Hui’s eyelids felt impossibly heavy, as if glued shut, her whole body drained of strength. She managed a faint, trembling reply. “Yunxi… I can hear you.”

Yu Yunxi forced herself to remain calm. If Song Hui could still speak, it wasn’t too serious yet. She propped her up against the edge of the bed, then dashed to the kitchen to make a cup of sugar water, feeding it to her slowly.

Warm, sweet liquid slid into Song Hui’s parched mouth, and gradually she felt her strength return. She managed to open her eyes.

Yu Yunxi breathed a deep sigh of relief when she saw Song Hui awake. “You scared me half to death. Have you not been eating or sleeping lately? Maybe it’s low blood sugar.”

“Probably. I haven’t eaten much these past couple of days,” Song Hui replied with a wan smile, hoping to reassure her.

Yu Yunxi helped her up and settled her on the sofa, worry etched into her face. “You should find time to see a doctor. You really can’t take your health lightly.”

Song Hui felt much better now and tried to put her at ease. “Alright, I’ll go when I have time.”

They chatted idly for a while until the food arrived. Yu Yunxi had thoughtfully ordered some light dishes and porridge. After the meal, Song Hui felt significantly better, though she couldn’t shake the recent fatigue that left her lethargic and unwilling to move.

Just as she was considering whether she should get checked at the hospital, her phone rang.

“Song Hui, you still have a chance.” A deep, magnetic male voice came from the other end.

Song Hui hadn’t expected Fu Yixing to call her. Frowning, she said, “I’m of no use to you now. Fu Chen has already thrown me out.”

Fu Yixing let out a cold laugh. “But in the public eye, you’re still his wife. As far as I know, you’re still the victim in this marriage. If you do as I say, I’ll make sure you’re well compensated.”

This time, Song Hui was tempted. The more money, the better—her mother’s hospital bills were astronomical.

“Can you tell me your plan first?”

“Of course not. Only when you’ve made your decision and we’ve signed the contract will I tell you.” Fu Yixing coaxed her patiently.

Reason told Song Hui that Fu Yixing was a hundred times more dangerous than Fu Chen. She couldn’t afford to let her guard down.

Just as Song Hui hesitated, Fu Yixing’s devilish voice continued.

“Don’t you hate Fu Chen?”