Wang Qiuxia’s chattering abruptly stopped, and the fine lines on her face twisted in fury. Only because Steward Wu was present did she refrain from losing her temper immediately.
“Chuchu, I’ve taken care of you for years on your mother’s behalf. Even if I haven’t gained any credit, I’ve certainly suffered. How can you curse me like this? I must get an explanation from Qiao Qihong!”
She was a shrewd woman. In order to pave the way for her own children, she not only kept a tight grip on Qiao Qihong’s assets but also coveted the portion managed by Wu Zhe.
Back when Qiao Chu’s mother and Qiao Qihong started their business, they had left behind a significant fortune for Qiao Chu.
If she could secure Wu Zhe, would she still worry about not getting her hands on Qiao Chu’s mother’s inheritance?
Qiao Chu stopped the woman who was covering her face and crying. “Aunt Wang, please pay for the wreaths with my supplementary card. You don’t have the right to use it.”
Wang Qiuxia was infuriated to the point of losing her voice again, her teary eyes turning to Wu Zhe. “Steward Wu, look at her! She’s getting more and more outrageous!”
Wu Zhe nodded calmly, walked over deliberately, and pulled out a stack of gilded bank cards from his pocket, handing them to Qiao Chu with both hands in utmost respect.
“Miss, money should be spent wisely. Even if you want to buy wreaths, you should consider whether she deserves it.”
Qiao Chu casually picked one out, and Wu Zhe immediately replied, “This is the Fortune Card issued the year your mother was pregnant with you, madam. The balance with interest is 350 million yuan.”
Three hundred and fifty million?
No wonder this is a world straight out of a Mary Sue aristocratic novel. Qiao Chu had never seen so much money in her life.
But she had to stay composed—she wanted to make that old witch Wang Qiuxia see red.
“Right. Steward Wu is correct. Let’s order a batch of wreaths in my mother’s name and send them to the Martyrs’ Ningyuan Cemetery to honor the heroes.”
Just then, Qiao Yue, having finished her morning routine with a facial mask on, came downstairs. Seeing Wu Zhe holding that thick stack of bank cards, her eyes went wide.
She barely managed to look away, only to notice her mother clutching a handkerchief and crying.
“Qiao Chu! How dare you bully my mother again? She is the lady of this house, not a servant to be exploited!”
Qiao Yue rushed downstairs, raising her hand to hit, but the man’s strong arm intercepted her, twisting her hand behind her back.
She looked up in disbelief. “Wu Zhe, you hit me for her?!”
Qiao Chu, scrolling through her phone like a bored commuter, replied, “Hit you? Are you serious? I’m the boss here. He earns tens of millions a year consulting for me!”
Qiao Yue didn’t listen. Her facial mask slipped to the floor as she stared at the refined, handsome man, her eyes red.
“Wu Zhe, you know I like you! Why? Why do you keep hurting me for her again and again?!”
Qiao Chu, picking her nose: “Why? How much is your love worth?”
Qiao Yue screamed hysterically, “You don’t understand! True love is priceless! You—ugly, useless, born without proper parenting—how dare you waste Wu Zhe’s prime years?!”
Qiao Chu: “Because I have money.”
Indeed, money allows one to do as one pleases. To rub salt into Wang Qiuxia and her son’s wounds, she immediately called Qiao Qihong.
“You old geezer, I’m warning you. Unfreeze my card and increase the monthly limit by 100,000 yuan, or you know what will happen.”
After Qiao Chu’s mother died in a car accident, all her shares were transferred to Qiao Chu according to her will. Over the years, under Wu Zhe’s management, her assets had grown exponentially.
Technically, the Qiao family was controlled by Qiao Qihong, but in reality, he and Wu Zhe were on equal footing, maintaining a façade of peace.
If Qiao Chu got unhappy, she could even push the old man off his chairman position—after all, millions a year is no joke.
She put the call on speaker, so everyone could hear Qiao Qihong’s humble voice.
“My dear daughter, it’s Dad’s fault. I’ll transfer the money immediately. As for Aunt Wang, I’ll deduct two months of her allowance. Are you satisfied?”
Qiao Chu hung up with a pout, giving him no chance to say more.
Qiao Yue ground her teeth. She, too, had called Qiao Qihong “Dad” for ten years—why was there such a difference in treatment between her and Qiao Chu?!
Qiao Chu’s monthly allowance was 500,000 yuan, now increased by another 100,000. Qiao Yue barely had 10,000 yuan, mocked by her aristocratic classmates for her lifestyle.
Even that scheming Jiang Yixuan lived a more comfortable life thanks to a few men’s generosity!
She had no blood relation to Qiao Qihong, which she accepted, but her brother Qiao Zhenjia only earned 20,000 yuan a month at most.
This family wasn’t short of money. Their strictness toward her and her mother and brother seemed more like guarding against thieves.
Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably as she stared at Wu Zhe, hoping this man would stand up for her, even once.
She knew Wang Qiuxia only cared about her son; putting her with Wu Zhe was purely to exploit her.
Yet she truly liked Wu Zhe—young, accomplished, meticulous, elegant—and was deeply attracted to him as soon as she moved into the Qiao family.
But no matter how hard she tried, Wu Zhe seemed blind to her affections, his eyes only ever on Qiao Chu, revolving around her every day.
Wu Zhe didn’t respond to her at all, simply ignoring her and grasping Qiao Chu’s wrist.
“Miss, I’ll take you upstairs to wash up first, then make some sobering soup.”
“Byebye, Little Caramel!”
Qiao Chu cheekily waved, provoking: “Sorry, I like Steward Wu too.”
“Picking up every flower in sight… should I punish him by making him kneel on a keyboard while massaging with essential oils? Pure indulgence~”
Originally, Qiao Chu meant this as a verbal attack on Qiao Yue, but as she said it, her wrist tightened, and she met Wu Zhe’s dark, intense gaze.
System Note: [Host, scene very vivid, detected Wu Zhe’s excitement level rising sharply]
Qiao Chu: “Huh?”
She couldn’t understand why her so-so appearance could excite Wu Zhe so much—she herself found it a little… limpening.
Could the steward have a masochistic streak?
“Miss, what you just said…”
Qiao Chu, relaxing in the luxurious bathtub, eyes squinting in comfort: “What about it?”
“I’ll go to the study to get a keyboard and then come back to remove your makeup and wash you.”
Qiao Chu perked up. She had just been joking, but the steward actually planned to kneel?
From his usual persona, Wu Zhe should have been stern and strict, the type to enforce rules rigorously.
He had even personally dragged Qiao Chu home from an internet cafe and forced her to study thirty-seven times.
“Fine. The house is chaotic; you’re partly to blame. You can use my cherry-pink gaming keyboard. Go kneel on it.”
Wu Zhe lowered his gaze, the long lashes casting a shadow, and for a brief moment, his usually composed and elegant demeanor cracked slightly, revealing a hint of shyness.
“That keyboard is Miss’s favorite. Wu Zhe knows and will fetch it immediately.”
System Note: [Excitement level exceeded 90%—Host, proceed carefully]
Qiao Chu: “?”
She didn’t understand—she picked that keyboard because the uneven keycaps would hurt when kneeling!
System whisper: [Some people… the more it hurts, the more they like it.]