Wen Ying was sitting alone on a swing in the backyard, sulking to herself, when a sharp female voice rang out—
“Well, if it isn’t Miss Wen?”
Wen Ying looked up and saw several women walking toward her.
The one speaking wore a short blue dress, scrutinizing Wen Ying with a mocking expression.
Wen Ying’s face darkened immediately. “What are you here for?”
All of them came from wealthy families, with comparable social standings, though the Wen family was slightly superior.
Most of these women had older brothers inheriting the family business or competing with siblings for positions.
Wen Ying was different, she was the only daughter and sole heir of the Wen family.
From birth, she had never needed to compete for anything; everything was hers.
How could this not spark jealousy?
And yet, someone with everything, a love-struck fool, only made people feel even more resentful.
“I heard your Fu Tingchuan has gotten involved with his little secretary, and now he publicly embarrassed you for her, carrying her off and leaving you behind?”
The more familiar someone was, the more precisely they could hit a sore spot.
Wen Ying stood up, leaning against the wall with a cold laugh. “What, Xu Yanxi isn’t here, so you lots of lackeys came instead?”
Xu Yanxi was Wen Ying’s arch-rival.
The Xu family’s social status was comparable to Wen’s, but as fellow heirs, Xu Yanxi and Wen Ying were complete opposites.
Wen Ying had a bad temper, a notorious reputation in the social circle.
Xu Yanxi, on the other hand, was poised, polite, and well-liked. Elders praised her, so everyone flocked to flatter her.
To Wen Ying, Xu Yanxi and Gu Qingyu were alike, both pretentious.
And these women were Xu Yanxi’s lackeys, faithfully following her lead.
Hearing Wen Ying insult them, their faces soured. “Who are you calling lackeys!”
The woman in the blue dress drew a deep breath, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Honestly, you’re pathetic, can’t even keep your own man.”
“Even a secretary is better than you~”
“Since Fu Tingchuan doesn’t like you, maybe you should step aside.”
Wen Ying scoffed, chin raised high. “Who cares if he likes me!”
“I’m telling you, Wen Ying, don’t play dumb. You say you don’t like him, yet you pester him every day, fighting a secretary over him?”
“Can’t admit you’re inferior, huh?”
“Exactly, acting jealous in public, isn’t it shameful?”
Wen Ying smiled, calm and indifferent. “You keep talking about men and jealousy. What, your dad brought a mistress home again? Didn’t your mother get enough of the jealousy game, so now she sends you here for validation?”
Their faces turned green, for two of them indeed had mothers furious over their father’s mistress, especially the one in blue whose father openly brought a mistress and child into the house.
Her expression darkened, about to lose her temper, when a clear, pleasant male voice interrupted—
“What are you doing here?”
They looked back to see a tall, elegant man walking slowly toward them.
Gu Qingyu’s calm gaze swept over the women, finally resting on Wen Ying.
He curved his lips into a faint smile, asking them, “Bullying someone?”
Seeing him, their faces changed instantly.
It wasn’t that Gu Qingyu was terrifying, but even if they didn’t consider themselves bullies, being caught in such a scenario was not flattering.
Wen Ying, proud and disdainful, wouldn’t complain.
Her reputation was poor; no one would believe her version, and they would assume she was abusing her power.
Gu Qingyu was different. From a top family, elegant and courteous, no one would doubt his word.
If he spoke or called their parents, they would face scolding, perhaps lose allowance.
The women’s expressions faltered. “W-what?”
“We were just chatting, joking, not bullying anyone.”
“Yes, we wouldn’t dare bully Miss Wen,” the woman in blue sneered sarcastically.
Gu Qingyu smiled politely, turning his gaze toward her. “Miss He?”
His tone was gentle and courteous, slow and calm, showing no threat or pressure, yet Miss He couldn’t help but twitch.
She stammered, “I…I have something to do, we’ll leave.”
Fearing he would remember, she quickly pulled her friends away, their retreat flustered and hasty.
Gu Qingyu withdrew his gaze and looked at Wen Ying.
Wen Ying frowned at him, as if blaming him for meddling.
Seeing him look back, she scowled and said, “I wasn’t bullied at all.”
Gu Qingyu’s brow lifted subtly, smiling. “Really?”
Feeling challenged, Wen Ying became embarrassed and angry. “Of course! Why do you meddle so much? Are you overflowing with paternal instincts?”
Gu Qingyu had anticipated her reaction, and he remained unbothered, watching her calmly.
Seeing his silence, Wen Ying sat back on the swing, glaring. “Don’t think I’d thank you. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have been humiliated like this!”
“You…” Gu Qingyu’s gaze swept over her face, pausing on her slightly reddened eyes.
She tried to turn her head to hide her expression, thinking she had masked it well.
Gu Qingyu fell silent, understanding her pride. He averted his gaze to the nearby flowers. “So, you think I had Brother Tingchuan bring her away to help him?”
Seeing him turn, Wen Ying quickly dabbed her eyes with the back of her hand, careful not to ruin her makeup.
Holding back the sting, she asked confidently, “Wasn’t that the case?”
“You just wanted to protect that Lin, to help your good friend?”
Everyone had turned against her, blaming her, yet Wen Ying hadn’t harmed the male lead nor interfered with the female lead—she only wanted her rightful share. Was that too much?
Did she have to give up everything and let the marriage go to satisfy them?
Gu Qingyu looked at her, his gaze moving slowly over her face. Seeing her return to normal, he smiled. “I don’t even know her, why would I protect her?”
“You expect me to believe that?” In novels, he treated the female lead and assisted the main couple; Wen Ying could not believe he didn’t know her.
“Believe it or not, think about it—if you continue quarreling, then what?”
Wen Ying frowned. “I wasn’t going to quarrel; he started it.”
Fu Tingchuan had accused her on arrival; no one wanted to argue with him first.
Gu Qingyu smiled. “Sometimes, words alone won’t suffice. Facts are needed, otherwise people will see you as unreasonable and bullying, understand?”
Wen Ying snorted dismissively. “I don’t care what they think.”
Proud and indifferent, her expression hid the truth—she was forcing herself not to care.
If she truly didn’t care, she wouldn’t be upset by others’ words, nor secretly wipe away tears.
Gu Qingyu sighed, lightly touching her forehead. “Use your brain more.”
Wen Ying froze, then quickly pushed his hand away, glaring. “What do you mean? Are you calling me brainless?!”
Seeing her flare up, Gu Qingyu chuckled, explaining, “No, that’s not what I meant.”
Wen Ying wasn’t convinced, huffing as she stood and pushed him aside. “Go away, I don’t want to talk to you!”
She strode toward the banquet hall and noticed the large screen playing the surveillance footage of Lin Shiwei spilling red wine on her, then falling accidentally.
Everyone now knew the truth, and discussions erupted.
Some laughed, but others approached Wen Ying to apologize for the misunderstanding.
Wen Ying looked dazed, turning toward Gu Qingyu.
Her expression was complex. “Was that you?”
Over the years, Wen Ying had grown accustomed to being misunderstood, indifferent to others’ opinions.
No one believed her or would stand with her.
Whenever something happened, everyone assumed she was responsible, including her parents, who constantly warned her to avoid trouble.
Wen Ying had accepted this—she had money and beauty, and no matter what, she was the heiress of the Wen family, unchangeable.
Yet now she realized that her supposed indifference was just forcing herself not to care.
Gu Qingyu nodded slightly, silently confirming.
Wen Ying lowered her eyes slightly, saying nothing, deciding to leave.
Time was almost up; there was no reason to linger.
Upon exiting the banquet hall, she discovered the car she had arrived in was gone.
Wen Ying had been in Fu Tingchuan’s car, without her own driver—so Fu Tingchuan had driven it away, leaving her behind.
Her phone rang, it was Fu Tingchuan.
Wen Ying answered, her heart calm, saying nothing, waiting for him to speak.
Fu Tingchuan’s tone was apologetic. “Sorry, Wen Ying. Lin Shiwei was injured, so I sent her to the hospital first. You can take a taxi back by yourself.”
“Fine, then you go ahead.”
There was a pause on the line; he hadn’t expected her calm response, then hesitated. “Are you sure? If you don’t want to take a taxi, I can have my driver pick you up after I reach the hospital.”
“No need, I’ll take a taxi myself!” she said, hanging up immediately.
She turned her head, seeing Gu Qingyu getting into a black Maybach.
Wen Ying strode over, opened the door on the other side, and got in.
Gu Qingyu paused, adjusting his cuffs, surprised. “What are you doing?”
Wen Ying leaned back against the seat, expressionless. “I’m going home with you tonight.”