Wen Yirou ran out of the Fu Corporation building and drove straight back to the Wen residence.
The Wen family lived in an upscale community, in a three-hundred-square-meter flat with the currently popular Italian light-luxury style—marble, metal accents, crystal chandeliers—everywhere exuding the message that money was no object.
But a closer look made it clear: it lacked the depth that came with old money.
The Wen family’s background was in the building materials business. They had struck it rich, leaping from ordinary middle class to nouveau riche, but they were still far removed from the upper-class established families—barely qualifying as a small, humble household.
Wen Yirou burst through the front door without even changing her shoes and threw herself onto the living room sofa.
She cried so hard her shoulders shook, her hair was a mess, her makeup was ruined, and she was still clutching that thermal lunch box she had never gotten to give away.
“Rourou?”
Lin Wanqing came downstairs from the second floor.
She took excellent care of herself—fair skin, gentle features, wearing a cream-colored loungewear set with her hair loosely pinned up. She looked like she was in her early thirties.
“Mom.” Wen Yirou lifted her head, tears surging up again.
Lin Wanqing walked over quickly, sat down beside her daughter, and reached out to stroke her hair. “What’s wrong? Tell Mom.”
“Linzhou… Linzhou doesn’t want me anymore.”
Lin Wanqing’s brow furrowed slightly. “Because of that Su family heiress who came back from abroad?”
Wen Yirou nodded and, between sobs, recounted what had happened at the company that day.
She told her about Su Qingsi’s excessively delicate and charming face, about the way Fu Linzhou looked at Su Qingsi, about how she had run out crying like a joke.
“Mom, he let her into the company. He let her stay by his side.”
“The way he looks at her—it’s different from the way he looks at me. What am I supposed to do?”
Lin Wanqing listened quietly, then fell silent for a moment.
“Rourou, you made a mistake.”
“What?”
“You shouldn’t have caused a scene.” Lin Wanqing’s voice was gentle, but clear-headed.
“Men hate it when women make scenes. You argued with him right in front of Su Qingsi—aren’t you just pushing him toward her?”
Wen Yirou was stunned. “Then what should I do?”
“Endure.” Lin Wanqing took her daughter’s hand.
“Su Qingsi is his first love, his white moonlight, but she has her disadvantages too.”
“What disadvantages?”
“She doesn’t remember anything, and she abandoned Linzhou once.” Lin Wanqing smiled.
“A first love who remembers nothing, who’s lost the pull of beautiful memories—she poses no threat.”
“Right now, Linzhou feels nothing for her but curiosity and unwillingness to let go.”
“But you’re different.” She looked at her daughter.
“You’ve been with him for half a year. You take care of his daily life, you soothe his grandfather. The kindness you’ve shown him is real and tangible—he sees it, and he’s grown used to it.”
Wen Yirou bit her lip. “But today he…”
“Today he was momentarily confused.” Lin Wanqing cut her off.
“Men—when they see an old flame, they’re bound to be a little dazed.”
“Listen to Mom. Go back and act as if nothing happened.”
“Cook for him, smile at him, don’t mention Su Qingsi’s name even once.”
“Men—guilt works better than love. Make him feel he’s wronged you, make him feel sorry for you, and he won’t be able to leave you.”
Wen Yirou looked at her mother and wiped the tears from her face. “Really?”
“Really.” Lin Wanqing caressed her cheek with a aching heart.
“Mom’s been through it. I understand men.”
“The more understanding you are, the guiltier he’ll feel. Once he’s felt guilty enough, his heart will naturally return to you.”
Wen Yirou lowered her head. “But Mom, it hurts.”
Her voice choked with sobs. “When I saw the way he looked at her, my heart felt like it was being cut with a knife.”
“You have to endure it even if it hurts.” Lin Wanqing’s tone turned stern.
“Rourou, if you want to win, you have to endure. A person who can’t tolerate small things will ruin big plans, understand?”
“A man like Fu Linzhou won’t lack women around him.”
“What you need to do isn’t to fight with those women—it’s to fight for his heart, to make him unable to leave you.”
“Make him used to your goodness, used to your gentleness, used to coming home to a hot meal and a lit lamp.”
“These are things Su Qingsi can’t give him.”
Wen Yirou gradually stopped crying.
She thought back over the past six months—Fu Linzhou working late into the night, and her waiting for him to come home.
When he came back drunk from business dinners, she’d get up in the middle of the night to brew hangover soup.
When he was in a bad mood, she’d sit quietly beside him, keeping him company.
Did Su Qingsi have any of these little moments?
No.
That woman only stood there looking delicate and timid, using her face to seduce people, without making a single practical contribution.
“I understand, Mom. I’m going back now.”
“That’s right.” Lin Wanqing patted her hand with satisfaction.
“Remember, the one who laughs last is the real winner.”
Fu Corporation, CEO’s office.
Fu Linzhou sat at his desk, holding a velvet box containing a necklace.
It was the latest model from a luxury brand. He’d originally planned to give it to Wen Yirou tonight.
After growing accustomed to her taking care of his daily needs, he’d wanted to give her a proper status.
Not a fake contract—but something real.
But she’d made such a scene today.
At the company, in front of Su Qingsi, interrogating him, pressuring him—it was far too unreasonable.
Fu Linzhou sighed, closed the box, and put it back in the drawer.
Forget it. He’d wait a little longer.
At ten in the evening, he pushed open the apartment door.
The living room light was on. Wen Yirou sat on the sofa, wearing a light apricot-colored apron.
Hearing the sound, she looked up, a soft, warm smile on her face. “You’re back.”
Fu Linzhou stood at the entrance, not moving.
He’d expected to see a woman with swollen, tear-stained eyes, hysterically demanding answers.
Like she’d been at the company during the day.
But she just smiled, as if nothing had happened. “I heated up some soup for you, and I made sweet and sour ribs—they’re keeping warm in the pot.”
She turned and walked toward the kitchen.
Fu Linzhou changed his shoes, walked over, and sat down at the dining table.
Wen Yirou quickly came out with a tray—two dishes and a bowl of soup, still steaming.
She set the bowl and chopsticks in front of him, then sat down across from him. She didn’t pick up her chopsticks, just watched him.
“Aren’t you eating?” Fu Linzhou asked.
“I already ate.” Wen Yirou smiled.
“Try it. I made the ribs following a new recipe I learned. I’m not sure if it suits your taste.”
Fu Linzhou picked up a piece. Crispy on the outside, tender on the inside.
“Delicious,” he said.
Wen Yirou’s eyes brightened for a moment, then dimmed again.
She lowered her head, her voice very soft: “I’m sorry about today.”
Fu Linzhou set down his chopsticks.
She looked up at him, the rims of her eyes slightly red, but her lips still trying to curve into a smile. “I shouldn’t have gone to the company to make a scene. I shouldn’t have embarrassed you.”
“It’s just—when I saw Miss Su, I suddenly got so scared. I was afraid you’d think of her, afraid you wouldn’t want me anymore.”
Tears fell. She hurriedly wiped them with the back of her hand, but the more she wiped, the more they came.
“Because I know I can’t compare to Miss Su.”
“She’s so beautiful, so noble, and the two of you have so many memories. I’m just a stand-in. Being able to stay by your side for half a year is already my good fortune.”