July weather was fickle—one moment the sun blazed overhead, and the next, storm clouds gathered out of nowhere. The downpour came without warning, sending bustling streets into chaos as people scrambled for cover.
Fu Qingyu trudged forward in a daze, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. Her slow, unsteady steps made her stand out starkly against the rushing crowd. Her black blouse clung to her skin, soaked through, making her already pale face appear ghostly.
Lost in thought, she wandered into the city center and stopped at the busiest intersection. Tilting her head up, she could see the towering skyscraper ahead, emblazoned with the bold characters: "Hengyi Group."
Her lips pressed into a thin line as she stood frozen for a moment. Then, without warning, she bolted forward like a woman possessed, charging straight into the building.
The receptionist at the front desk gasped and immediately reached for the security call button—until she recognized Fu Qingyu’s face.
"Madam, you—"
"Where is Chu Jinxuan?" Fu Qingyu demanded, her voice icy.
The receptionist hesitated, taking in Fu Qingyu’s disheveled appearance before reluctantly answering, "The CEO is in a meeting on the fourth floor." She quickly grabbed a clean towel, about to offer it, but Fu Qingyu was already sprinting toward the elevators.
Fu Qingyu knew the layout of the building by heart. She stormed straight to the conference room, only to be blocked at the door by an assistant.
"Madam, you can’t go in," the man insisted, gripping her arm. "The CEO is in the middle of an important meeting. Whatever it is, you’ll have to wait."
A bitter smirk twisted her lips. "Wait? I’ve already waited all morning at the police station. I won’t waste another second. I need to see him—now!"
Fu Qingyu had always been known for her gentle, composed demeanor, but now her eyes burned with fury as she struggled against the man’s hold, her movements bordering on frantic. The assistant barely recognized her.
In that split second of hesitation, Fu Qingyu summoned an unexpected burst of strength, wrenching free and lunging for the door.
The conference room door slammed open with a deafening crash, drawing every pair of eyes in the room. The executives froze, stunned into silence as they recognized her. After a tense exchange of glances, all gazes eventually shifted toward the head of the table.
Chu Jinxuan lounged comfortably in his chair, his expression unreadable. He had been listening to a report when the commotion interrupted, but even now, his face betrayed no reaction. The pen in his fingers continued to spin idly as he regarded Fu Qingyu with the same detached calm as always—as if he didn’t notice the blazing fury and hatred in her eyes.
"President, I told Madam she couldn't come in, but she insisted," the doorman said with a pained expression.
Chu Jinxuan rose to his feet, seemingly oblivious to the curious glances around him. Fastening his suit buttons with deliberate calm, he said evenly, "My apologies, there's a private matter I need to attend to."
Hearing this, everyone began gathering their files to leave, but Chu Jinxuan added, "No need. I'll be back shortly. The meeting will continue as scheduled." Without waiting for a response, he strode to the door, took Fu Qingyu's hand, and walked away without a backward glance.
Though Fu Qingyu could feel the warmth of Chu Jinxuan's palm, it brought her no comfort. She didn't resist as he led her to his office and locked the door behind them.
"You should've used an umbrella in the rain," Chu Jinxuan said, his tone gentle and unreadable. He bent down to retrieve a towel from the cabinet, then moved to dry her hair—only for her to raise a hand and stop him.
"Was it you who reported my father?" she asked, staring at him with conflicted emotions. Water still dripped from her hair, trailing down her face, but she didn't blink, letting the droplets sting her reddening eyes.
Chu Jinxuan studied her for a long moment before replying coolly, "Yes." He draped the towel over her shoulders for her to dry herself, then took a seat behind his desk. "And it wasn’t just a report. I was the one who submitted the evidence of his crimes."
At his words, the last flicker of hope in Fu Qingyu's heart vanished, replaced by a crushing despair.
She looked at the composed man before her—his refined features, his relaxed posture—then thought of her father, currently detained and under investigation. A chill seeped into her bones.
When her father had first suggested Chu Jinxuan's involvement, she had refused to believe it. She had stubbornly come here for confirmation, praying he would deny everything, tell her it was all a misunderstanding, and promise to help free her father.
Instead, Chu Jinxuan had admitted it outright—and with such indifference.
"Why?" The question scraped out of her throat after a long silence.
Chu Jinxuan smiled then, a cold, unsettling curve of his lips. "Because I've been waiting for the right moment to bring him down."
