But he shook his head, how could it be possible?
Yi Jie smiled and greeted her, “Wen Ying, long time no see.”
Wen Ying snorted and turned her head away.
Yi Jie, one of Fu Tingchuan’s notorious playboy friends, was always someone Wen Ying lazily ignored.
She didn’t want to give him even an ounce of attention.
Yet Yi Jie didn’t feel the slightest embarrassment. He had always been tolerant of beautiful women, and Wen Ying was at a level of beauty that could disarm anyone. Just looking at her face, he felt no irritation at all.
Seeing her attitude only confirmed in his mind that the woman from that day could not have been Wen Ying.
Apart from Fu Tingchuan, she had never shown any kind face to any of the brothers—how could she have been involved with Gu Qingyu?
Moreover, Gu Qingyu had always been Fu Tingchuan’s closest friend. No one would dare cross his brother’s fiancée.
With that, Yi Jie grinned and asked teasingly, “So, when are you and Tingchuan planning to get married?”
“What does that have to do with you?” Wen Ying, maintaining appearances for Fu Tingchuan’s sake, might endure him slightly, but for his playboy friends, she showed no leniency.
“Don’t be mad, I’m just asking,” Yi Jie said smoothly. He had had many girlfriends and knew well how to pacify women, rarely facing outright rejection.
Fu Tingchuan frowned and reminded her, “Wen Ying, watch your attitude when speaking to others.”
After all, these were his friends, and her behavior made him look bad.
Wen Ying ignored his concerns. With the public display already set, she was tired of dealing with anyone and released his arm.
“This is my attitude. If you want better, go ask someone else!”
Saying that, she clicked her heels and walked away.
Fu Tingchuan’s face fell, feeling embarrassed and frustrated.
Yi Jie glanced at his dark expression and clicked his tongue. “The heiress has a temper, it’s normal. Just bear with it. But man, you’ve got your hands full in the future~”
Indeed, after hearing that, Fu Tingchuan’s face darkened even more.
Yi Jie’s deliberate provocation drew a slight, faintly amused glance from Gu Qingyu, his eyes under the glasses carrying subtle meaning.
Feeling exposed, Yi Jie became flustered and found an excuse to leave.
Gu Qingyu glanced toward the direction Wen Ying had left and asked Fu Tingchuan, “Aren’t you going after her?”
Fu Tingchuan paused. “Go after what?”
Gu Qingyu only smiled, saying nothing.
“You mean Wen Ying?” Fu Tingchuan chuckled dismissively. “Her temper isn’t new. Can’t expect me to appease her every day. She needs to be tempered; if she caused trouble all the time, who could handle it?”
“Is that so?” Gu Qingyu smiled lightly, his gaze cool and indifferent.
Fu Tingchuan had a thought. “Well, since you have such a good temper, maybe you could help persuade her sometime.”
Gu Qingyu’s hand holding the wine glass paused. Lowering his eyes, he declined with a smile, “Better not.”
Gu Qingyu rarely rejected directly; he was always tactful and subtle, never wanting to offend anyone.
Thinking of Wen Ying’s temper, Fu Tingchuan frowned. “Did something happen that day when you sent her home?”
Gu Qingyu sipped his wine, eyes lowered, saying nothing.
“She got angry with you?” Fu Tingchuan’s brow furrowed further; he knew Wen Ying’s temper, and it wasn’t impossible.
Gu Qingyu put down the glass and patted his shoulder lightly, smiling. “No, don’t overthink it.”
Fu Tingchuan still felt uneasy and was about to ask more when a commotion arose nearby.
He could even hear the words “Miss Wen” among the chatter.
Fu Tingchuan’s temple twitched—he knew if he didn’t watch her closely, trouble would happen.
Rushing to the scene, they found a crowd surrounding a toppled champagne tower, broken glasses scattered, sticky liquid spreading across the floor.
Among the shards lay a girl in a waitress uniform, pale, in pain, curled up, trembling slightly.
Wen Ying stood nearby, coldly observing, while gossip filled the air.
Fu Tingchuan’s brows shot up. He immediately recognized the girl on the ground as Lin Shiwei.
He hurried over to help her, then turned toward Wen Ying, his gaze red-hot, voice grinding through his teeth: “Wen Ying—”
“What have you done?!”
Everyone accused Wen Ying of abusing her power, bullying a powerless waitress.
Some onlookers recognized the waitress as the secretary rumored online to have a private affair with Fu Tingchuan.
Thus, they assumed Wen Ying, jealous, had pushed her.
Gu Qingyu’s gaze, however, landed on the wet patch on Wen Ying’s chest.
Her red gown had been splashed with wine—not immediately obvious but visible along the bust line, clinging slightly to her figure.
“Apologize!” Fu Tingchuan’s anger flared, blind to the reality.
Wen Ying regarded him as if he were insane. “I didn’t do anything wrong, why should I apologize?”
Fu Tingchuan stared, incredulous. “You pushed someone for no reason and say you did nothing wrong? You’re hopeless!”
Wen Ying laughed angrily. “I pushed her? Did you see it yourself, or are you just assuming?”
Fu Tingchuan, confident as always, said, “So many people saw it. I don’t need to watch to know it was you! No one else could have done this.”
Gu Qingyu cleared his throat, reminding him calmly, “I think Wen Ying’s dress got wet because someone spilled wine on her.”
Fu Tingchuan paused, finally noticing the wet patch on her dress.
The gown was a strapless design, red and striking, perfectly complementing her appearance.
He had been impressed by it when he first saw it.
Indeed, the chest area was damp.
The crowd naturally noticed, speculating the waitress had spilled wine by accident, and Wen Ying, angered, had scolded her.
The frightened waitress had then stepped backward clumsily, hitting the champagne tower, causing her fall.
The onlookers’ expressions shifted, and the discussion erupted again.
Some accused the waitress of scheming.
Some said Wen Ying had been too harsh, scaring her.
More commented on Fu Tingchuan’s attitude toward the waitress.
There were those sympathizing with Wen Ying, and others enjoying her misfortune.