"Let's just see how big your appetite really is."
When Fu Jingchen said this, I expected him to throw his chair over and storm out, the way the novel wrote it.
Instead he tossed his lighter onto the coffee table, sat back down on the sofa, and lifted his chin at Lawyer Chen with the air of a spectator:
"Run the numbers."
Lawyer Chen froze for a beat, pushed up his glasses, and opened a folder, apparently ready to rebut me point by point.
I didn't give him the chance. I opened my phone myself and pulled up the earliest screenshots in my gallery to show him.
"Lawyer Chen, before you calculate my appetite, let's calculate what Mr. Fu has said."
I brought up the first screenshot: the year he stood before the media and made his devoted confession.
"Mr. Fu once said that for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, he would take care of me. He said it in front of the whole nation. I'm not slandering him, am I? Since you insist on protecting me, the first item is easy..."
"My mother's medical fund, established in one lump sum, with the money transferred directly to the hospital's corporate account—not routed through Fu Group's finances. In writing, in black and white, in the agreement."
Lawyer Chen opened his mouth at the screenshot on my phone, and for a moment said nothing.
I pulled up the second screenshot: the public statement Fu Jingchen issued when he acquired my grandfather's company.
"'Given the mismanagement of my father-in-law's company, the Fu Group's acquisition was made in good faith.'"
I nodded at that short string of words.
"Good faith, wonderful. Then why don't you make good on that 'good faith,' Mr. Fu? The land, the brand, and the dividends the Fu Group has taken from my grandfather's company over these years—all converted to cash at appraisal value. Whatever it comes to, pay it back."
The hand spinning the lighter stopped.
He said nothing, and his gaze on me turned colder.
I wasn't afraid of the cold. A look can be as cold as it likes; what I feared was him not taking the bait.
I went on to the third screenshot: the post Fu Jingchen published when he learned I was pregnant, captioned:
"The arrival of this child is a gift from heaven."
I set the phone down on the table.
"A gift, then. Since Mr. Fu is such a man of feeling, let's not be stingy about child support either. The child's support fund will be calculated as a percentage of the Fu Group's annual profit, and my expenses during the pregnancy and after the birth will be accounted for separately."
I wanted to laugh, but I forced it down.
"Didn't Mr. Fu say that out of two years of shared history, he wanted to leave me some dignity? The price I'm quoting is exactly the dignity I'm owed."
The room was very quiet. You could hear the wall clock ticking.
Lawyer Chen wiped his sweat and leaned in. "Mrs. Fu, this isn't negotiating terms. This is treating the Fu Group like an ATM."
I ignored him, my eyes on Fu Jingchen.
Then I turned back to Lawyer Chen with a smile.
"An ATM? Lawyer Chen, when Mr. Fu was courting me, he said one thing: 'What's his is mine.' Now everything of mine is gone, and everything of his is still his. Does that sound like justice to you?"
I paused, letting my gaze drift lightly over the surveillance camera in the corner, its hidden infrared lens discreetly open.
"Besides, the cameras have this whole conversation on record. If, one day, someone takes this agreement and makes a story of it—'Fu CEO forces his pregnant wife to sign under duress'—I imagine that would be far better news coverage than that devoted-romance announcement you people put out."
Fu Jingchen's finger touched the lighter. Still, he said nothing.
Truly the textbook jinx of a male lead from the novel—he speaks fewer words than he drools.
Fu Jingchen stubbed out his cigarette and spoke with a weight that couldn't be ignored.
"The company has already been restructured. It can't be repaid. And the child in your belly will bear the name Fu."
"Restructured, fine. Then compensate at valuation. Not a cent less."
I laughed. Did Fu Jingchen really think I understood nothing?
"The child's surname is whatever you like. He'll earn his own name one day anyway. I won't fix it for him in advance."
Fu Jingchen's eyes finally darkened.
I thought he would squeeze me another round, but the phone on the table rang first.
Fu Jingchen glanced down, his face turning ugly at once. With a gesture to me and Lawyer Chen, he walked to the window to take the call.
The window wasn't fully shut, and the wind carried in most of his words:
"...keep an eye on her. If she makes trouble again, cut that batch of medication for three days... but the life-sustaining supplies cannot be interrupted."
I didn't know who he meant. But the words life-sustaining slipped into my ear like a thin wheat awn, pricking me softly.
When he came back from the call, he had no more patience for negotiating. He grabbed his coat and threw it to the bodyguard at the door:
"Draft the agreement as she laid it out. Process the medical fund clause first. The rest can be discussed later."
Like any self-respecting domineering CEO, Fu Jingchen made an extremely swift exit.
Because he left so promptly, only Lawyer Chen and I were left in the room, staring at each other.
Lawyer Chen closed his folder, seemed about to say something else, and finally couldn't help lowering his head and murmuring to me:
"Mrs. Fu, quit while you're ahead. The things Mr. Fu concedes are never the things that matter."
I knew what he meant.
The things that "didn't matter," in Lawyer Chen's ledger: my mother's life, my grandfather's bloodline, and this still-young body of mine.
In their eyes, none of these was worth so much as a single hair on the Fu Group's head.
The draft agreement was finished that same day, the medical fund clause put in writing first.
Back in the guest room, the first thing I did was call the hospital.
The duty nurse verified my information and told me that Ms. Su's payments had been restored and treatment could resume tomorrow.
Down the line came the weak voice of Su Nian's mother: "Niannian."
On behalf of the soul curled up inside me, I answered:
"Mom, don't worry. I'm doing fine."
After hanging up I stood staring blankly out the window, when someone knocked softly at the door.
The meal lady again. This time she carried no tray—only a bowl of hot soup.
She checked the corridor in both directions before closing the door behind her. "Ma'am, about your grandfather—I worked at the old estate for some years. There's something I don't know whether I should say."
I gestured for her to sit.
She clutched the corner of her apron, visibly hesitating.
"By the Fu family's ancestral hall, every few days people come and go in the middle of the night. The big chests they carry in come out empty. The last time I looked a moment too long, I was reassigned to the kitchens to tend the fire that very month—I wasn't even allowed through the main gate of the main house. Only this side-courtyard meal delivery was left for me to do."
"Did you see what was inside the chests?"
She shook her head, but her eyes were full of lingering fear.
"I didn't dare look closely. But once, a chest's corner cracked open, and what spilled out was yellow paper ash. And a trace of sandalwood."
By the time the soup had gone cold, the woman had left, looking back at every third step.
I leaned against the headboard and dug the two-year-old case out of my memory, piece by piece.
The timing of Su Nian's grandfather's bankruptcy had always struck me as neat. Back then she'd believed it was simply bad business. Viewed now through the lens of the Script, the date of that bankruptcy liquidation fell within three days of the Fu family's annual ancestral sacrifice.
The last of the company's money flowed into a shell company, and the shell company's registered address was the small town where the Fu family's ancestral hall stood.
The deeper the night, the more I thought.
The company's books were perfectly clean. The lawyer's paperwork was immaculate. Every step was unimpeachable—and every step landed precisely on a day the Fu ancestral hall was due to "burn incense."
Su Nian's grandfather had never wronged anyone in his life. His company's collapse had to be a trap laid by the male lead.
I stared at that yellowed page of the file, and a terrifying conjecture surfaced in my mind:
What if this bankruptcy was never about business at all—what if it was the blood-vigor of the Su family's entire line, being burned to fill someone else's censer of incense?
Outside, another bolt of lightning tore across the sky, and the white wall of the guest room flashed stark white.
I looked down at my faintly rounded belly and, for the first time, truly felt it: inside this body was not only Su Nian's child, but everything the Su family had had bled out of them, bit by bit, by someone else.
I barely slept that night.
As dawn approached, I made a decision.
Su Nian had only ever known how to hide. So this first step, I would take for her.
Tomorrow morning I was going to the Fu family's ancestral hall. I wanted to see, with my own eyes, exactly what that censer was burning.
Outside, the bodyguards' footsteps changed shift. To the soul curled up within me, I said silently:
"Don't be afraid. Once I've gotten to the bottom of this, I'll walk the road straight for you."