Volume One, Chapter Two: The Wedding Toast

Her fingernails dug into her palms, yet Fu Yuting seemed numb to the pain. She closed her eyes, feigning sleep. Behind her, the sound of ragged, intimate breathing filled the room, making her stomach churn with nausea.

She squeezed her eyes shut, but inside her, humiliation and hatred grew into a storm that threatened to tear her apart. For five years, she had given everything to Lu Jingyan, trusted him with all her heart, simply because in the darkest, most helpless days after her parents’ passing, it was Lu Jingyan who had stood by her, gentle and steadfast, guiding her out of despair.

Never could she have imagined that her parents’ deaths were orchestrated by Lu Jingyan and Xu Qian.

Lu Jingyan—if all of this was part of your scheme, then everything you have taken from me over these five years, I will reclaim, with interest.

Afterwards, Lu Jingyan went to the bathroom. Xu Qian leisurely tidied her clothes, her gaze provocative as she looked at the supposedly sleeping Fu Yuting, a triumphant smile on her lips.

“Fu Yuting, I’ve always despised that saintly act of yours, ever since we were children. Why were you the princess on a pedestal, while I was the beggar living off your family’s scraps? Surprised? All it took was a little tampering with the brakes, and your short-lived parents died in that crash. Without your parents, how are you any different from me? The Fu family fortune, your man—they’ll all be mine. And then, it’ll be your turn to taste what it’s like to be trampled into the mud.”

At that moment, Lu Jingyan returned. “Qianqian, let me take you home.”

Xu Qian took his arm, laughing as they left together.

The door clicked shut. Fu Yuting opened her eyes; they burned with a blood-red fury.

So, the one she thought had saved her was the very person who had pushed her into the abyss.

The sister she had tried so earnestly to help only ever took from her, all the while despising her charity.

She wiped her tears away, hard.

This would be the last time she cried.

Perhaps she ought to thank fate for revealing the truth before her wedding.

She would make them pay dearly.

With that thought, she pulled out her phone and sent a message to her friend: “Lao Zhou, put the transfer of Fu Corporation on hold. There are some legal issues I’d like to discuss with you. Where are you?”

Setting down her phone, she prepared to leave. As she passed the liquor cabinet, her eyes fell on the fifty-year-old bottle of Maotai she’d been saving—meant as a gift for Lu Jingyan at their engagement banquet.

As if he deserved it.

Just then, she received a reply from Zhou Ye, her lawyer: “I’m at Xun Lou, meeting someone very important. Mentioned it to you before.”

“I’ll come find you now. I need your full support with something,” Fu Yuting replied, grabbing the bottle before heading to Xun Lou.

“That’s perfect.”

Xun Lou was the most luxurious and upscale restaurant in Bincheng, frequented only by the wealthy and powerful. Zhou Ye was the city’s top lawyer, so anyone he would personally entertain was bound to be influential.

Fu Yuting lowered her gaze, her eyes steely cold.

Lu Jingyan, aren’t your company’s interests what you treasure most? Then I’ll use what you treasure to destroy you.

Soon, she arrived at Xun Lou’s VIP suite. On her way, Zhou Ye had briefed her on the details—the meeting was for a job interview.

Their guest was Bo Xingzhou, the youngest business tycoon from M Country. Rumor had it he’d just arrived in Bincheng yesterday, and Zhou Ye had already managed to bring him to the table—no small feat.

If Zhou Ye could become Mr. Bo’s personal attorney, it would benefit her as well.

It would make dealing with Lu Jingyan all the easier.

With that in mind, Fu Yuting knocked on the door.

It was Zhou Ye who opened it, his face grave, as if the negotiations weren’t going well. When he saw her, his eyes lit up as if he’d seen his savior. He whispered, “You’re finally here, my goddess!”

Fu Yuting nodded, then glanced past him into the room.

In the center of the sofa sat a man, holding a wine glass, head bowed, his features obscured. Only his long lashes caught the light, casting faint shadows on his cheeks.

His fingers tapped the glass with practiced ease, exuding an inexplicable air of mystery.

Suddenly, the shadows shifted.

In a fleeting moment, their gazes met—deep eyes like a starry night, yet frosted with chill.

Her heart lurched violently. Instinctively, she dared not meet his gaze again.

The sense of pressure emanating from him was overwhelming.

Fu Yuting composed herself and smiled. “Attorney Zhou, here’s the wine you requested.”

She raised the rare Maotai she had treasured for so long.

Zhou Ye’s eyes widened in shock.

Good heavens!

Wasn’t that the bottle she was saving for her engagement tomorrow? She was willing to use it for this—what on earth did she need from him to pay such a price?

He forced a strained smile and ushered her inside, turning to Bo Xingzhou. “This is my… senior partner, Miss Fu.”

Bo Xingzhou did not move or reply; he simply set down his glass.

Fu Yuting paid no mind to his indifference. Closer now, she felt his cold, distant aura even more intensely.

She poured the liquor into a decanter, swirling it gently before glancing at Bo Xingzhou, her lips curving into a subtle smile as she remarked, “I wouldn’t say I’m all that senior. Three years ago, when our city mayor was falsely accused of corruption, I was just Attorney Zhou’s assistant.”

Zhou Ye was taken aback.

The girl knew how to make a pitch.

Mentioning his most high-profile case—surely a compelling reason for Bo Xingzhou, who had just returned to the country, to consider him.

As expected, Bo Xingzhou lifted his head at the mention of the case.

Fu Yuting stared at his face, stunned for a few seconds.

What kind of face was this? Even with her top marks in literature, she couldn’t find the words to describe him.

He seemed almost otherworldly, both refined and strikingly handsome. The high bridge of his nose, and those lips—not too thin nor too full, but irresistibly sensual.

His eyes held a predatory intensity, captivating yet cold, a forbidding asceticism in their depths.

Zhou Ye cleared his throat.

She snapped back to herself, quickly poured him a glass, and said, “This is a fifty-year-old Maotai I’ve collected. It may not compare with the fine wines you’ve enjoyed before, Mr. Bo, but it’s the best we can offer. Please, have a taste.”

Zhou Ye added, “As a matter of fact, Miss Fu had planned to use this as her wedding toast tomorrow. But when she heard it was you, she made the sacrifice.”

The man glanced at the glass, then at Fu Yuting’s slightly swollen eyes. Without careful scrutiny, one would never guess she’d been crying. After all, her smile was dazzling.

But at this moment, she looked like a cat whose tears had smudged its fur.

Bo Xingzhou’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He didn’t pick up the glass, only arched a brow, fixing her with an unwavering gaze. “Oh? Does this mean Miss Fu is inviting me to her wedding in advance?”

His voice, stripped of any youthful innocence by the years, was low and husky.

Utterly captivating.