Chapter 10: How Could She Be So Foolish!

"Yinyin, are you busy right now?" The voice was just as gentle as always.

A cold smile flickered in Mu Yinyin's eyes.

She had lost her mother at a young age. When He Xia married her father, Yinyin had been resistant at first, but He Xia played the role of a virtuous wife and loving mother so well. Starved for motherly affection, Yinyin fell right into her trap, truly believing that He Xia was a good 'family member.'

But after everything that had happened, Yinyin could only marvel at He Xia's acting skills—her hypocrisy was seamless. If it weren’t for her father’s misfortune, she might have remained as obedient as before.

Reining in her thoughts, Mu Yinyin replied coolly, "What do you want?"

Back then, her father had struggled to raise her alone, and He Xia took advantage of the opportunity, bringing her own daughter into their home. She managed the household impeccably, and Yinyin’s father had been delighted. Who could have guessed that this mother and daughter were wolves in sheep’s clothing?

He Xia paused, as if oblivious to the chill in Yinyin’s voice, continuing with her gentle tone, "Yinyin, you haven’t been home in a while. Why don’t you come back for dinner tonight? It’s been so long since we’ve all sat together. Even though your father is gone, I still think of you as my own daughter. We’re a family, Yinyin. Do you blame your aunt?"

All these years, Yinyin had never changed how she addressed her, for He Xia would never be her real mother. She would not change now.

"Blame?" Yinyin’s lips curled in a half-smile. If it wasn’t for that mother and daughter, her father would not have died so suddenly. She would see justice done.

On the other end of the line, He Xia’s expression stiffened for a moment.

The little wretch had sensed something after all.

Her daughter had already warned her that Yinyin was asking for her shares back—something was amiss. Even her tone now was different.

He Xia composed herself, forcing a sorrowful sigh. "Yinyin, I know your father’s passing has been hard on you, but I was by his side for so many years, too. My heart aches as well... No matter what, you are my daughter in my eyes. Come home for dinner tonight, will you? Your sister is being discharged and will be home too."

Yinyin ignored her earlier, hypocritical words and asked the only thing that concerned her, "She’s out of the hospital today?"

"Yes, I’ll cook a nice dinner myself. Come home, won’t you? I really miss you," He Xia coaxed, her voice as soft and gentle as ever, impossible to refuse.

A flash of irony crossed Yinyin’s gaze. She had no desire to see people like them, but she had her reasons—she had to go.

After a brief pause, she answered directly, "Fine, I’ll come tonight."

She could have continued to pretend, played the innocent, told Nan Shiqing she was willing to give up Fu Siye, and acted as if she had noticed nothing amiss between mother and daughter. Perhaps that would make things easier.

But Mu Yinyin was unwilling.

She could no longer stomach false pleasantries with them, not for a moment longer.

Besides, she didn’t need to do so. She could still force them back to where they belonged. For what they did to her father, she would make them pay a thousand times over!

She would make them live every day tormented in body and mind, constantly fearing the loss of everything they’d schemed for over the years. She would see them left with nothing, suffering through each and every day!

"That’s wonderful! I’ll be waiting for you," He Xia exclaimed, sounding as if she were genuinely welcoming a beloved daughter back home.

Yinyin said nothing more and hung up.

She had nothing left to say to He Xia. If it weren’t for her revenge, she would have long since cut ties.

Soon, Mu Yinyin returned to her work. Near the end of the day, her phone suddenly rang.

Yinyin opened WeChat.

—Jiang Ling: [Are you free for dinner tonight?]

Yinyin tapped on her keyboard.

—Mu Yinyin: [No, He Xia asked me to come home for dinner.]

—Jiang Ling: [He Xia?]

Jiang Ling knew who He Xia was, but was surprised she would still invite Yinyin over.

—Mu Yinyin: [She’s probably up to something again. I do have some things I need to discuss with them tonight. Next time, let’s have dinner together then. Oh, those two, they’ll be back soon, right?]

Those two, of course, referred to the other two who had co-founded the company with them.

The four of them had been close friends, and, sharing similar interests, started the company together. Yinyin had become a hands-off partner, leaving all the work to them, something she still felt guilty about.

—Jiang Ling: [Yes, they’ll be back in about three days.]

Li Chuan and Gu Xiaoqi had gone to survey a project together.

—Mu Yinyin: [When they’re back, let’s throw them a welcome dinner.]

—Jiang Ling: [They’ll love that.]

Yinyin hadn’t told Li Chuan or Gu Xiaoqi about her return yet.

She just sent a sticker and said nothing more.

She didn’t voice her guilt either, knowing it would only make them uncomfortable—they were friends; there was no need for such words.

She would make up for it all in time.

At moments like this, Yinyin couldn’t help but wonder what she’d been thinking back then. Why had she let herself become so lovesick, giving up everything to be with Fu Siye? What had made him so worthy? And how could she have been so foolish?

She closed her eyes for a moment, as if suppressing her anger.

The end of the workday arrived quickly.

After packing up, she drove off.

Her car was a limited-edition Ferrari, bought by her assistant at her request after the divorce. She had considered getting something ordinary, but in the end, chose what she truly liked.

Since she was divorced, she no longer cared about anything else. She only needed to live well for herself.

Before, she had been frugal, not wanting others to think she wasted money or relied on a man. But now, she didn’t care. She hadn’t touched a single penny of Fu Siye’s money—it was all earned by her own hands. So what did it matter what others thought?

An hour later,

Mu Yinyin arrived at the old Mu residence.

She sat in her car for a while, not in a hurry to go in, but instead gazing intently at the house before her.

This was the old Mu family home.

But the people inside no longer bore the Mu surname.

Returning here brought a flood of memories—she remembered running through the yard as a little girl, her father patiently playing with her, tossing her the ball.