7 – Does it still hurt from last night?
The Fu family’s old mansion was very large, with a long corridor that passed through a garden before reaching the main hall.
The two of them drew quite a bit of attention along the way.
“That woman is so delicate—she’s still being carried by Fifth Master?”
“Fifth Master really is carrying her. I heard that woman is incredibly clumsy. They’re all saying Fifth Master won’t last two months before divorcing her.”
“A little princess like her—who could put up with that?”
“Exactly, she’s insufferably delicate.”
Sang Ran buried her face in Fu Chenyan’s chest and said softly, “Put me down. I can walk on my own.”
“You can walk on your own? Then who was it that just bumped into me?”
Sang Ran shut her mouth and said nothing. She just hadn’t been paying attention—it was all Fu Chenyan’s fault anyway. He insisted on pulling her along, and with legs as long as his, how could she possibly keep up?
She gently poked Fu Chenyan’s chest, so lightly that his heart felt as if a feather had brushed across it.
Fu Chenyan was tall and powerfully built, so carrying the girl was effortless. She weighed almost nothing, frail and thin—easy to bully, but just as easy to protect.
“Chenyan is still carrying Ranran—they really do have a wonderful relationship.”
Elder Fu stood up with a beaming smile, dressed in a formal Zhongshan suit. His aged face was full of smiles, showing no sign of a terminally ill patient at all—just a kind, elderly grandfather.
Beside him sat a middle-aged woman in an emerald green dress, very fashionable, with a well-maintained face. However, her expression was somewhat displeased.
This was Elder Fu’s third wife, Zheng Rumei.
Fu Chenyan looked at the old man’s appearance and furrowed his brows slightly. Had he been deceived?
Then, he set Sang Ran down from his arms and looked at the old man. “Your health…”
“There’s nothing wrong with my health.” Elder Fu deliberately coughed a few times. “It’s just that my breathing feels a bit uncomfortable… sigh… it seems I don’t have many days left. But seeing you married, I’m happy.”
“Father…”
Sang Ran nearly bit her tongue. She had always called him Grandpa Fu, and suddenly changing how she addressed him now felt strange.
The smile on Elder Fu’s face grew even brighter. His gaze swept back and forth between Fu Chenyan and Sang Ran, and he asked in a low voice, “Ranran, has Chenyan been bullying you? If he has, tell me, and I’ll teach him a lesson for you.”
Sang Ran nodded, then shook her head. She had to behave herself—otherwise, that wicked man Fu Chenyan wouldn’t give her phone back.
“No… he hasn’t bullied me.”
Fu Chenyan looked at the girl’s aggrieved expression and curled the corner of his lips in a good mood.
“Has Ranran eaten yet?”
“Yes.”
Sang Ran looked at the room full of people and timidly hid beside Fu Chenyan, nervously clutching his sleeve with both hands.
Before her were Fu Chenyan’s eldest brother Fu Pang and his eldest sister-in-law Liu Ping, as well as the second branch, the third branch—so many people…
Sang Ran had seen them before, but she didn’t like these people.
Finally, her gaze landed on a young woman whose eyes had been fixed on Fu Chenyan the entire time.
She was a daughter the Old Madam had brought with her when she married Elder Fu—Qin Moyan.
Qin Moyan spoke softly, “Fifth Brother…”
Fu Chenyan gave a faint nod, his eyes devoid of any emotion. He had always been cold, even toward his own relatives.
But then again, these weren’t really his relatives either. Aside from the old man, the lives and deaths of others had nothing to do with him.
Qin Moyan walked over and sat down not far from Fu Chenyan, personally brewing him a cup of tea. Fu Chenyan didn’t take it, nor did he look at her.
“Fifth Brother, won’t you drink it?”
Fu Chenyan: “I don’t like tea.”
Qin Moyan’s eyes darkened. She set down the cup in her hand, seemingly already accustomed to Fu Chenyan’s attitude. Then she turned her gaze to Sang Ran, something stirring in her eyes.
Sang Ran’s fingers touched Fu Chenyan’s hand—she had meant to grab his sleeve, but accidentally caught his fingers instead. She immediately let go, but the next second, her hand was enveloped by his warm, large palm.
“Go, pour me a cup of tea.”
His tone was indifferent as his fingers lightly tapped the girl’s hand.
This very man had just said he didn’t like tea, and the next second he was asking Sang Ran to pour him some. But no one dared to say a word—the true power holder of the entire Fu family wasn’t the old man, but this Fifth Master Fu before them.
Qin Moyan suppressed the emotions within her, yet her eyes still reddened.
Sang Ran didn’t want to pour tea for this wicked man. She deliberately turned her head away, puffing out her lips and cursing that wicked thing under her breath.
After all, she was the little princess spoiled by her family—why would Sang Ran pour tea for this bully who tormented her? Dream on!
Qin Moyan’s hand clenched into a fist, a hint of ruthlessness in her gaze as she stared straight at Sang Ran.
Her look was as if she were facing a mortal enemy.
Fu Chenyan wasn’t angry in the least. He picked up the porcelain-white teacup himself, poured the water, and took a small sip.
Qin Moyan’s fingers dug tightly into her palm, her gaze lowered. No one knew what she was thinking, but Sang Ran could sense a powerful hostility emanating from her.
“Does it still hurt?” Fu Chenyan suddenly spoke.
Sang Ran: “?”
Fu Chenyan leaned close to Sang Ran’s ear, his voice hoarse. “Last night… does it still hurt?”
His voice wasn’t loud, but it wasn’t quiet either. Qin Moyan could clearly hear what he said, her eyes turning bloodshot, faint traces of blood forming in her palms.
Sang Ran assumed he was referring to him pinching her cheek last night, so she shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“That’s good. I’ll be more careful next time.”
His voice was deep and low, his scorching breath brushing against her ear.
Sang Ran felt her ear tickle, so she reached up to touch it, accidentally brushing against the corner of the man’s mouth. She instinctively pulled her hand back.
“Chenyan and Ranran have such a wonderful relationship. Perhaps in a little while, Ranran will be expecting.”
The speaker was the eldest madam of the Fu family. She was a very beautiful woman, her hair swept up at the back, a gentle smile on her face. Yet when her eyes fell on Sang Ran, there seemed to be a hint of disdain in them.
“Mm.”
A low, deep sound escaped Fu Chenyan’s throat. He took Sang Ran’s hand in his, gripping it firmly. No matter how she tried, Sang Ran couldn’t pull free, so she could only let him hold it.
“Ranran, don’t mind it. My son simply didn’t have the fortune. Although he’s handsome and accomplished at a young age, good in every way, he’s just foolish—he doesn’t know your worth…”
Sang Ran nodded faintly. She had met Fu Linchuan a few times as a child and exchanged a few words with him.
In truth, it was Fu Linchuan she had been engaged to. But Fu Linchuan didn’t like her—he liked Shen Yunge instead. As children, Fu Linchuan had always preferred playing with Shen Yunge. He thought Sang Ran was too slow-witted, so he never played with her.
Everyone said it was because Fu Linchuan didn’t want to marry her that he fled the country overnight.
Sang Ran lowered her gaze, her fingers gently twisting through her soft hair.
“What’s wrong?”
Fu Chenyan seemed to notice something off about Sang Ran. His gaze settled on her face. He had seen her frightened, seen her timid and cowardly, but never seen her smile, and never seen her like this.
She looked almost… sorrowful.
Was it because of Fu Linchuan?
Fu Linchuan and Sang Ran had grown up together. Though not exactly childhood sweethearts, they had crossed paths many times.
Fu Chenyan narrowed his eyes, his fingers suddenly tightening as he clasped Sang Ran’s hand firmly in his own.
The pain in her fingers snapped Sang Ran back to her senses. With tears welling in her eyes, she looked at the man before her.
“It hurts.”
Fu Chenyan released her hand and asked again, “What were you thinking about?”
“Nothing.”
The doll looked aggrieved once more, her delicate brows furrowed, her big watery eyes blinking.
“Is that so?” Fu Chenyan raised an eyebrow, his gaze turning cold.