Chapter 8: Are You Worthy?!

He shoved Mu Yinyin away, his eyes icy and cold. But before he could speak, a sudden retching sound interrupted him—

Mu Yinyin, in her drunken stupor, vomited all over Fu Siyue’s trousers.

“Mu! Yin! Yin!” he roared, his anger palpable.

Even in her drunken haze, Mu Yinyin seemed to sense the murderous aura emanating from him. His shout made her body instinctively tremble, but before she could compose herself, the wave of nausea hit again.

She doubled over and retched once more, leaving a mess everywhere.

“Damn woman!” Fu Siyue cursed.

When she finally finished, Mu Yinyin felt much better. Yet Fu Siyue was so furious that veins throbbed on his forehead; he wanted nothing more than to throttle her. Disgusted by her filthy state, he simply tossed her into the bathtub. Not bothering with anything else, he called the butler and told him to send the maids to the master bedroom at once, then stormed off to another bathroom to clean himself up.

After showering, Fu Siyue headed downstairs. The divorce agreement lay on the coffee table, and his already grim expression darkened further. Without a glance back, he strode out the door.

On the signature line of the agreement, the only name was Mu Yinyin’s.

...

When Mu Yinyin awoke again, daylight had already filled the room. She found herself in familiar surroundings and was completely bewildered.

What… happened?

Hadn’t she already moved back to her own place?

Her head throbbed violently. Rubbing her forehead, she recalled she’d been drinking with Jiang Ling last night. But what happened after that?

She got up and tried to find her phone, but it was nowhere in sight. Frowning, she went out to borrow a phone from one of the maids and immediately dialed a number.

The maid hesitated, clearly wanting to say something but ultimately holding back.

The call connected.

“Hello.” A man’s deep, slightly puzzled voice answered.

“Boss Jiang, it’s me. Did I leave my phone with you?”

“Yinyin?” Jiang Ling sounded concerned. “Yes, it’s here with me. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, really. It’s just…”

For some inexplicable reason, she’d spent the night at her ex-husband’s house.

Jiang Ling’s heart tightened. He asked anxiously, “What’s wrong?”

Did that bastard bully her?

Mu Yinyin’s eyes flashed. “It’s nothing. I’ll come find you. Are you at the office?”

“I’m on my way there now. I’ll be at the office all day.”

“Alright, I’ll head over now.”

She hung up without bothering with breakfast and immediately made her way out. Pausing at the villa’s entrance, she glanced back with a strange feeling, as if some supernatural event had brought her here in her sleep. How else could she have ended up spending the night in this place?

...

At Fu Group, after showering last night, Fu Siyue had returned to the office, his face thunderous, and worked through the night without sleep.

Suddenly, the office door was pushed open.

Dyson, dressed in casual white, sauntered in. Though he was undeniably handsome, his grin was thoroughly shameless. Carrying breakfast, he cast Fu Siyue a suggestive glance. “Morning. How was your night?”

Fu Siyue’s face darkened. “You must be awfully bored these days.”

Dyson’s expression soured. “Damn it! I come to check on you and you want to assign me more work? I’ve got my own business now—you’re not squeezing anything else out of me!”

Fu Siyue ignored him, focusing on his documents.

Dyson opened the breakfast bag and handed over a glass of milk. “Relax, it’s all clean.”

Fu Siyue didn’t take it. “I’ve already eaten.”

“Tsk.” Dyson set the milk down, pulled out a chair, and sat beside him. “So, you didn’t touch her at all for three years, but last night you—”

Catching Fu Siyue’s sharp glare, Dyson cut himself off and changed the subject. “So what now? Are you going to take responsibility?”

Fu Siyue’s frown deepened. “There’s a flight this afternoon. Head to the northwest.”

“What the hell! I don’t have time for that.”

“You’re not busy,” Fu Siyue replied, not even sparing him a glance.

Dyson got up and strode out, grumbling, “Being your friend is pure bad luck—must be paying for eight generations’ worth of sins!”

Yet in truth, Dyson’s dependence and trust in Fu Siyue ran deep. In their youth, if not for Fu Siyue, he might have been long gone from this world. This debt of gratitude was something he would never forget.

...

By now, Mu Yinyin had arrived at the entrance of Starshine Group.

A daze washed over her. Just how much of a lovesick fool had she been, giving up everything here just to be Fu Siyue’s housewife?

She hadn’t even reached the exclusive elevator for their group of four before being stopped by the receptionist.

“Who are you? Do you have an appointment?” The receptionist’s tone was unfriendly and her gaze disdainful. What a world—women trying to climb the social ladder were getting bolder by the day, even trying to use Jiang Ling’s private elevator.

Mu Yinyin glanced at the name on her badge: Meng Qiao.

Calmly, she said, “Hello, I’m here to see President Jiang.”

Meng Qiao sneered. “Plenty of people want to see President Jiang. You think you can just walk in? He’s not available today.”

Mu Yinyin frowned but remained where she was. She was certain Jiang Ling was in the office today and wouldn’t have given such instructions.

Seeing her unmoved, Meng Qiao rolled her eyes. “Can’t you hear? If you know what’s good for you, get out now, or I’ll call security.”

It was the morning rush, and a crowd of employees had started to watch.

“Qiao Qiao, you didn’t even find out what’s going on. Why are you turning people away?” Another receptionist walked over, her tone disapproving but soft, clearly wary of Meng Qiao.

Meng Qiao’s face turned even colder. “Are you blind? She’s obviously here to cozy up to President Jiang and climb the ranks! If you can’t see that, what are you doing at the front desk? Just quit already! Think you can compete with me for this job? Dream on!”

Mu Yinyin’s expression grew increasingly grim, an icy aura emanating from her.

Meng Qiao was startled and suddenly lost her nerve.

“Yinyin.”

A magnetic voice sounded. Heads turned in delight—President Jiang had arrived!

Jiang Ling noticed Mu Yinyin’s grim face and the crowd gathering. His brow furrowed as he spoke gently, “What’s happening here?”

Before Mu Yinyin could respond, Meng Qiao hurried over, eyes filled with infatuation, and recounted the entire episode.

“President Jiang, this woman didn’t even greet me—she just tried to take your exclusive elevator. Clearly, she has no manners.”

Many people lingered, eager to see how things would unfold.

Mu Yinyin looked at Jiang Ling. “Did you tell the front desk you weren’t available today?”

Jiang Ling’s brow creased, but he said nothing. Still, Mu Yinyin could tell he hadn’t given such instructions.

“Meng Qiao’s work attitude is a serious problem. Check the surveillance later—she can’t stay.”

Mu Yinyin’s voice was calm, just as before. Even in the face of Jiang Ling, there wasn’t a hint of meekness.