On the day she moved into the Fu Corporation apartment building, the first rain of winter fell over the capital.
Shen Che drove to pick her up. Xia Ran didn’t have much—one suitcase, one canvas bag, a pouch of markers, and a pot of nearly withered pothos.
The car didn’t head toward the neighborhood across the street. Instead, it turned at two intersections and stopped in front of a brand-new apartment building.
The building wasn’t tall—twelve stories—with a dark gray stone facade, a security guard at the entrance, and marble flooring in the lobby.
Shen Che opened the car door and held out a black long-handled umbrella. “Miss Xia, this is the apartment Fu Corporation provides for externally hired experts. President Fu signed off on it. You’ll be on the twelfth floor.”
Xia Ran stood at the lobby entrance and glanced up.
The elevator ascended. Shen Che stood slightly behind her at an angle, hesitating for a moment. “Miss Xia, this apartment is Fu Corporation property, not President Fu’s personal residence. Please don’t worry.”
Xia Ran looked at her own reflection in the elevator wall—blurred, distorted, like a melting ice figure. “I’m not worried.”
The twelfth floor arrived. Shen Che led her to unit 1206 and handed her the keys. A minimalist keychain hung from them, engraved with the words “Fu Corporation.” Not his personal keys anymore—these were the company’s.
The apartment had two bedrooms and a living room, fully furnished. The kitchen held the same arrangement: milk, eggs, vegetables, fruit, and a bag of millet. On the windowsill sat a pot of pothos, its leaves gleaming green.
After Shen Che left, Xia Ran stood in the middle of the living room and looked around.
She dragged her suitcase into the bedroom and began unpacking. Clothes went into the wardrobe, her design notebook onto the desk, markers into the pen holder, toiletries into the bathroom.
Her phone buzzed. A message from Fu Sinian: “Is the apartment satisfactory?”
Xia Ran replied.
“Thank you, President Fu.”
After a moment, another message came through: “Mm. Let me know if you need anything.”
Xia Ran looked at the message, didn’t reply, and set her phone down on the table.
…
That evening, Fu Sinian had just finished a business dinner, the cold sharpness of the occasion still clinging to him.
Fu Sinian said to Shen Che, “Back to the old residence.”
“Yes, President Fu,” Shen Che responded.
The black Bentley came to a steady stop on the bluestone driveway of the courtyard.
Fu Sinian pushed open the door and stepped out, wearing a sharply tailored dark suit, the chill of dusk wrapped around him. His brows were lowered, his steps steady as he entered the living room. Days of unrelenting tension had left his presence cold, distant, and withdrawn.
Inside the living room, Fu Jingchen and Shen Zhiyi were sitting with Old Mrs. Fu. The atmosphere was quiet, almost suffocating.
Shen Zhiyi tried to lighten the mood with a smile. “You brat, you’ve been back in the country this long and you haven’t come to see us.”
Fu Sinian sat down on the sofa, his voice low. “Work keeps me busy. What did you call me back for?”
Shen Zhiyi spoke in a gentle tone. “Sinian, you’re twenty-six this year. Your marriage can’t be put off any longer. Your father, your grandmother, and I have discussed it—either the Lin family’s daughter or the Shen family’s. Pick one, and let’s settle the engagement.”
Old Mrs. Fu’s tone carried authority. “That’s right. A family of equal standing, with known background—that’s what’s suitable for the young mistress of the Fu family.”
Fu Sinian sat there, fingertips curling slightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His voice was low but clear, each word deliberate: “Mom, stop worrying about this. I have my own plans.”
Shen Zhiyi was taken aback. “You have someone in your heart?”
Old Mrs. Fu gave a light snort. “It’s that designer Xia Ran, the one who made you revise a proposal countless times, isn’t it!”
Fu Sinian lifted his gaze to look at her. “Grandmother, your sources are quite thorough. Even internal matters reach your ears.”
Shen Zhiyi laughed in surprise. “So it’s her—the one from before?”
Shen Zhiyi said softly, with gentle admonishment: “Since you’ve met again, don’t let it slip away this time. Family standing can’t compare to mutual affection, and outsiders’ gossip means nothing next to your true happiness.”
His thin lips moved, his voice carrying a hint of hoarseness, along with a warmth of having regained something once lost: “Thank you, Mom.”
Old Mrs. Fu’s brows knitted tightly, her heavy gaze fixed on the man before her, her tone brooking no argument: “That girl comes from a modest family. She doesn’t match the Fu family. I don’t agree with this.”
Fu Sinian stood rooted in place, his tall frame radiating an impenetrable coldness. His eyes were lowered, long lashes concealing the surging emotions beneath. When he raised them again, his gaze was as icy as a frozen pool—no trace of a junior’s deference toward an elder.
“Grandmother, my affairs are not for others to meddle in.”
The old lady’s chest heaved with anger at his attitude, her voice rising several notches. “I’m doing this for your own good! The Fu family’s reputation, your future—which of these can you just do as you please with?”
“Reputation or future, they’re both mine.”
Fu Sinian stepped forward half a pace, his presence pressing down, each word cold and unyielding.
“I’ll say this one last time. Stop interfering in my affairs. If you insist on doing so, then I don’t mind sending you somewhere peaceful to retire—sooner rather than later.”
Old Madam trembled with rage, gripping the armrest of her chair as she snapped, “You are utterly lawless! Is there no justice left in this world?”
Fu Sinian paused mid-step, turning slightly. The coldness in his eyes deepened, and his tone was indifferent yet carried an unshakable authority: “In the Fu Corporation, I am the law. And in this household, it is no different.”
As his words landed, the sheer force of his presence pressed down on everyone in the room, making it hard to breathe. Old Madam stared at his stubborn, unyielding expression—furious yet helpless, unable to speak for a long moment. Fu Sinian did not linger. He turned and strode out without another word.
He had not even fully crossed the threshold of the hall when he stopped, his back ramrod straight, and without looking back, his voice as cold as ice: “One more thing—consider this a warning. Don’t touch people you shouldn’t.”
Old Madam laughed in sheer fury at his words, tightening her grip on the prayer beads in her hand. “How dare you! I’d like to see if I, an old woman, don’t even have the right to discipline anyone anymore?”
Fu Sinian slowly turned around, his deep eyes churning with menace, locking directly onto her. His tone left no room for negotiation: “Whoever touches her, I will touch them. I’ll only say this once.”
With that, he did not stay. He strode away, and the heavy wooden door was carried by the wind, closing softly behind him, sealing the room’s fury and standoff within.
Standing to the side, Fu Jingchen let out a helpless sigh. He stepped forward, gently patting Old Madam’s back, his tone warm yet laced with resigned consolation: “Mother, please calm down. Don’t be upset with Sinian—it’s not worth ruining your health over.”
Shen Zhiyi quickly stepped forward as well, sitting down beside Old Madam and taking her ice-cold hand in hers, speaking in a soft, soothing voice: “Yes, Mother, don’t take it to heart. That child has been stubborn since he was little—neither soft nor hard tactics work on him. Now that he’s grown and taken charge of the family, he’s even more decisive and ruthless. Once he sets his mind on something, even ten oxen couldn’t drag him back.”
Shen Zhiyi continued gently, “Mother, what Sinian said earlier—’In the Fu Corporation, I am the law’—wasn’t arrogance. It was the truth. The Fu family today is no longer the one you ruled single-handedly back then. The person he protects so fiercely is his reverse scale. Whoever touches it will suffer the consequences.”
“Children have their own blessings. Family standing isn’t the measure of a person.”
Fu Jingchen spoke slowly, hitting the crux of the matter: “Forcing them apart will only make Sinian resent you for the rest of his life. Better to go along with his wishes for now and see how things unfold.”
“You saw it just now—his stance was absolute, and his warning was crystal clear: whoever touches the one he protects, he’ll go after them. He means what he says. If it comes to a breaking point, it will only end in estrangement between grandmother and grandson, and chaos in this household.”
She abruptly pulled her hand away from Shen Zhiyi’s, her expression hardening once more with cold resolve, her voice ringing with finality, leaving no room for compromise: “There’s no need for either of you to keep persuading me!”
“On other matters, I can indulge him, go along with him—but on this, absolutely not!”
Old Madam straightened her back, the full authority of the woman who had ruled the Fu family for decades radiating from her, every word carrying an unshakable obstinacy: “No matter how much power he wields or how harsh his words, no matter how he defies or threatens me—this marriage, with its mismatched standing, I will never approve!”
“I am the matriarch of the Fu family. As long as I hold this position, I will never allow an outsider unworthy of him to destroy the rules of the Fu family passed down through generations!”
Fu Jingchen and Shen Zhiyi exchanged a glance, both wearing expressions of utter helplessness.