Song Changfeng struck hard, and an immediate, visible handprint appeared on Song Wantang's face.
A burning pain, like fire.
But because of this slap, Song Wantang's remaining feelings of kinship toward Song Changfeng vanished.
Very good!
This time, the break was clean and complete.
Song Wantang tilted her head, the handprint on her cheek shocking to see.
She didn't cover her face, nor did she cry. She simply turned her head slowly and stared straight at Song Changfeng.
Her eyes were calm like a pool of dead water, without anger, grievance, or even hatred.
But it was this very calmness that sent a chill through Song Changfeng's heart.
"Mommy, he's so awful, he hit you! Does it hurt a lot?" Little Dumpling's voice carried a sob, as if he wanted to jump out and teach the man a lesson right then.
"Done hitting?" Song Wantang asked flatly.
Song Changfeng's lips moved, as if to say something, but he found he couldn't open his mouth.
He had acted on impulse just now, as if he had lost his mind.
After hitting her, he instantly sobered up.
"Then can I leave now?" Song Wantang asked again.
"Wantang... I..." Song Changfeng reached out a hand, wanting to explain, but Song Wantang avoided his touch.
This action cut deeper than any words.
Song Yurou stood to the side, a flash of glee quickly passing through her eyes.
Perfect. They didn't even have to do anything, and Dad had already given Song Wantang a hard slap.
Truly gratifying!
But soon her face showed a worried expression. She hurried over, looking anxious: "Dad, how could you hit big sister? Can't you talk things out properly?"
She turned to look at Song Wantang, her eyes reddening, as if she genuinely felt distressed: "Sister, are you okay? Let me get an ice pack for you to put on it."
"No need." Song Wantang's tone was indifferent. "I told you, don't call me sister."
Song Yurou's hand froze in midair, her expression a little hard to maintain.
Only then did Zhou Huiru slowly stand up, her tone lukewarm: "Wantang a, your dad just lost his temper for a moment. As his daughter, can't you understand? Besides, what you said earlier was really hurtful."
Song Wantang glanced at her.
This woman had been like this ever since she first set foot in the Song family.
Always mediating, always smoothing things over, as if for everyone's good, but every word she said only poured oil on the fire.
Hearing this, Song Wantang found it ridiculous. "I've been understanding for over twenty years. Isn't that enough?"
"Wantang a, you misunderstand. Actually, your dad was just worried you'd be wronged by the Lu family and wanted to help you deal with those troublesome matters. With the Song Corporation shares in your hands, the Lu family might not say anything, but they'll definitely have thoughts. Transferring those shares back to your dad is good for you and good for the Song family. It's a win-win situation. Why make such a big fuss?"
Song Wantang looked at her and suddenly laughed.
"Auntie Zhou, you really know how to talk." Song Wantang said. "But I have a question for you."
Zhou Huiru paused for a moment, then smiled: "Go ahead."
"My mother's things—you've taken them over for so many years. Are they working out well for you?"
Zhou Huiru's smile froze instantly.
Song Changfeng's complexion darkened: "Song Wantang, what nonsense are you talking?"
"I'm talking human language." Song Wantang looked at the three of them. "I won't budge on the shares issue. If there's nothing else, I'll be leaving."
Carrying her bag, she walked out without looking back.
Just as she reached the door, she collided with someone.
Shen Mozhou.
He was wearing a dark blue shirt, his figure tall and straight, his features deep.
But there was a hint of weariness between his brows, as if he hadn't rested well in a long time.
Seeing Song Wantang walk out from inside, he paused mid-step, and his eyes lit up instantly.
"Wantang."
Great, he finally saw her.
Song Wantang frowned slightly.
What's he doing here?
Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.
Before she could say anything, Song Yurou chased out from inside, her voice sweet: "Brother Mozhou, you're here! Come on in, I've told the kitchen to prepare..."
Her words suddenly stopped because she saw that Shen Mozhou's gaze was fixed on Song Wantang.
As if she were invisible.
Especially when he saw the handprint on Song Wantang's face, his expression instantly darkened.
"Who hit you? What's going on?" His tone was serious.
Song Wantang tilted her head, avoiding his gaze: "None of your business."
"Wantang!" Shen Mozhou's tone became urgent. "Let's talk."
That was also the purpose of his visit today.
Ever since Song Wantang publicly broke off the engagement, he hadn't been able to find her.
He had a lot to say.
"A good dog doesn't block the path. We have nothing to talk about." Song Wantang's voice turned cold.
She was no longer Shen Mozhou's fiancée.
What was the point of this show of concern now?
Besides, he was like a weasel coming to pay respects to a chicken—no good intentions.
Shen Mozhou had always been coveting her shares.
Song Yurou watched this scene, her fingers unconsciously clenching the hem of her skirt.
Damn Song Wantang!
From the moment Shen Mozhou walked in, he hadn't given her a single look.
She bit her lower lip, took a deep breath, and said softly, "Brother Mozhou, big sister just had a few words with Dad, and Dad was impulsive for a moment... I already talked to Dad."
As she spoke, she reached out and gently tugged at Shen Mozhou's sleeve.
That gesture was intimate and natural, very much like something between couples.
Song Wantang watched this scene, feeling no ripples in her heart, and even found it a little amusing.
Then Song Yurou turned to Song Wantang again, her tone carrying false guilt: "Sister, don't blame Dad. He was just anxious about the shares and spoke a bit harshly..."
Shen Mozhou's brows furrowed deeper.
Shares?
No wonder. The shares in Song Wantang's hands could directly affect the operations of the Song Corporation.
He'd have to step up his efforts.
Song Wantang couldn't be bothered to deal with it. Carrying her bag, she bypassed Shen Mozhou and headed straight for the door.
Shen Mozhou instinctively reached out to stop her: "Your face is hurt. Let me take you to the hospital."
"No need."
"Wantang—"
"Shen Mozhou." Song Wantang finally stopped, looking at him with cold eyes. "We have no relationship anymore. Who I marry or who hits me is none of your business. Do you understand?"
Shen Mozhou clenched his fists, his voice low and hoarse: "The injury on your face... at least let me drive you back."
"No need. I have my own car." Song Wantang finished speaking and, without giving him another chance to speak, walked straight toward the black Maybach parked by the roadside.
Shen Mozhou watched Song Wantang's figure, saw her walk away briskly with her bag, without even looking back once.
His heart felt as if something had gripped it tightly, suffocating him.
No, he... toward her...
He only cared about her shares...
"Brother Mozhou?" Song Yurou sensed his peculiarity, a trace of displeasure flashing in her eyes, but her voice remained gentle. "Big sister... she might be in a bad mood. Don't mind her. Let's go inside; Mom and Dad are waiting for you."
Shen Mozhou withdrew his gaze, gave a faint "mm," and didn't say anything more.
Song Yurou bit her lip, her peripheral vision catching Zhou Huiru giving her a meaningful look. She understood and didn't continue the topic.
No matter. There's plenty of time ahead!
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