Volume One, Chapter 25: Caught in the Act!

“Sorry! Wrong room!”
A waiter stumbled in, his elbow “accidentally” colliding with Fu Yuting’s wrist.
The wine glass shattered to the floor, its dark red contents splashing across Chen Mo’s trousers.
“You little—” Chen Mo leapt up in fury, but saw the waiter bowing in panic, the side profile of his face sharp as a blade.
Fu Yuting narrowed her eyes.
Who was helping her?
Was it really just a coincidence?
“Mr. Chen.” Fu Yuting suddenly rose, the tip of her high heel gently nudging aside the shards of glass. “It was my own carelessness. Don’t make things difficult for him.”
She turned to the waiter. “You may go.”
The waiter nodded and left.
Fu Yuting picked up the crystal decanter. In the light, the crimson wine flowed like blood.
“Mr. Chen, I was rude just now.” She pushed a freshly filled glass toward him, her fingertip tapping the base lightly. “This is for my apology.”
Chen Mo, still fuming, was instantly flattered by Fu Yuting’s demeanor and eagerly accepted, his greasy fingers itching to brush against the back of her hand again.
With a steady smile, Fu Yuting deftly avoided him, her eyes glinting with mockery, and slipped a gold-embossed room card from her clutch, sliding it across the table:
“Room 1706. I have some ‘project materials’ I’d like to discuss with you privately. Come up in a while.”
As she stood, the hem of her dress brushed Chen Mo’s knee, leaving a faint, chill fragrance in the air.
Five minutes later, the waiter handed another room card to Wu Meiqin. “A Mr. Chen asked me to give this to you.”
Wu Meiqin lowered her head with a sly smile.
That useless fat man—with such an appetite.
Just as well; she’d had her eye on a new handbag.
Golden Delight Club, Room 1706.
When Chen Mo pushed the door open, the room was shrouded in darkness, only a few flickering candles casting ambiguous shadows.
“Sweetheart?” he called tentatively, his voice tight with excitement.
On the bed, a woman lay with her back to him, long hair loose, her figure alluring. Wang Hao didn’t stop to think, hastily yanking off his tie and pouncing, failing to notice that the woman was slightly plumper than expected.
“Playing coy? Didn’t you ask me here yourself?”
Wu Meiqin said nothing, playing along as if it were part of their game.
In the darkness, their heavy breathing mingled, clothing scattered to the floor.
Just as their entanglement reached its peak—
Bang!
The door was violently kicked open!
The glaring ceiling lights snapped on, flooding the room. Mrs. Chen stood at the threshold, flanked by two burly men, her face livid.
“Chen Mo! You beast!”
Chen Mo froze, spinning around. The moment he saw the woman’s face on the bed, his expression turned ashen.
“Meiqin? Why is it you?!”
Wu Meiqin was equally stunned, scrambling for the sheets to cover herself. “Mrs. Chen, please, let me explain—”
Mad with rage, Mrs. Chen snatched up a wine bottle and hurled it. “Explain? I’ll give you something to explain!” She rushed forward, slapping them both. “Record everything!”
The two men behind her snapped photo after photo.
Downstairs, Fu Yuting watched the commotion around Room 1706 from her leather seat, a slight curve to her red lips.
It would be a fierce battle, no doubt.
She dialed Wen Yunzhi. “Edit tonight’s events into a highlight reel and send it anonymously to the HR department’s inbox.”
At 12:23 a.m., Jiang Junyi, head of HR at Lu Group, received an encrypted email:
“Report on Serious Violations by Chen Mo, Deputy Director of Marketing, and Intern Wu Meiqin”
The file included three major sections:
1. Chen Mo embezzling company funds to support Wu Meiqin.
2. Chen Mo using his position to fast-track Wu Meiqin’s internship.
3. Chen Mo caught in the act of adultery by his own wife.
Each section was accompanied by detailed text and images.
As headlights swept across the courtyard, Fu Yuting braked, her fingertips tapping twice on the steering wheel.
Upstairs, the bedroom light glowed, warm yellow filtering through sheer curtains, casting a misty halo on the rainy night.
Bo Xingzhou was home?
Her gaze lingered for a moment on a pair of Italian handmade shoes by the entryway—
The toes pointed inward, his usual habit.
She exhaled soundlessly, fingers curling unconsciously.
He’d returned, but hadn’t told her.
But then, they were married in name only; why report their comings and goings?
“You’re home?”
A low voice drifted from the top of the stairs.
Fu Yuting looked up. Bo Xingzhou leaned against the landing in a loose black robe, collar open to reveal his collarbone.
“Mm. Something came up at work,” she answered instinctively, then pressed her lips together.
Why was she explaining?
Bo Xingzhou seemed to sense her irritation, the corners of his mouth lifting almost imperceptibly. “There’s warm milk in the kitchen. You probably haven’t eaten much.”
The words left her momentarily frozen.
How could he know?
Did her pallor give it away?
Fu Yuting cupped the glass, the warmth of the milk soothing her chilled stomach. The pain finally eased. She let out a silent breath, fingers tracing the rim.
On the living room sofa, Bo Xingzhou flipped through documents.
“How are things at Lu Group?” he asked suddenly, eyes still on the contract.
The bottom of her glass tapped lightly against the marble table.
“Not bad. I’ve transferred to Marketing,” she replied, dabbing the milk from her lips with a tissue.
“Marketing’s good.”
He heard her answer and smiled faintly, as if he’d known all along.
Fu Yuting’s fingers unconsciously traced the cup. Ripples shimmered across the milk’s surface, like a lake stirred by wind.
“Yes,” she said quietly. “Time to learn something new.”
Bo Xingzhou stood and headed upstairs, saying as he went, “If you need anything, tell me.”
With his back to her, eyes dark as ink, his emotions unreadable. He knew she wouldn’t seek him out, but still, he couldn’t help saying it.
Fu Yuting watched his retreating figure in silence, then returned to her room as well.
Tonight promised to be a restful night.
Lu Group Marketing Department
Morning sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, but couldn’t dispel the tension in the air.
Chen Mo’s office was deserted, his computer still aglow, the screen displaying an open email—“Preliminary Investigation into Suspected Embezzlement by Chen Mo.”
A few colleagues clustered in the break room, whispering:
“Did you hear? Last night Mr. Chen was caught at the hotel—embezzling company funds, they say! The police took him away!”
“Wu Meiqin came in to resign today—her face is so swollen she looks like a pig’s head…”
“Shh! Look—”
At the end of the corridor, Wu Meiqin walked silently toward the elevator, sunglasses on, a bruise blooming on her right cheekbone, a scab at the corner of her mouth, holding a cardboard box.
As she passed Fu Yuting’s desk, her steps faltered, a blade-sharp glare flickering behind her sunglasses.
Fu Yuting said nothing.
Youth may be capital, but not the kind to trade as a mistress.
“Fu Yuting, the director wants to see you.”
The voice cut through her thoughts.

Marketing Director’s Office.
When Fu Yuting entered, Director Zhou Lin stood with his back to her, gazing out the window, a file pinched between his fingers.
“Sit,” he said, not turning around, his tone low.
She sat with composure, her gaze sweeping over the desk—
Chen Mo’s resignation papers were already signed, but the project proposal on the desk was stained with coffee, as if someone had hurled it there in anger.
Zhou Lin turned, his eyes sharp. “Chen Mo left suddenly, but there’s a major project he didn’t finish.”
He pushed the file toward her—
“Quarterly Women’s Market Financial Strategy Proposal”
“This project is crucial for last quarter’s results. The report must be ready for the group banquet in ten days.” His voice was calm, but brooked no refusal. “You’ll take over.”
Fu Yuting didn’t reach for the file at once. Instead, she met his gaze. “Why me?”
Zhou Lin suddenly grinned, but his eyes remained cold. In a flash, he dropped to one knee before her.
“Please, Sister Ting, save me! If the marketing department keeps underperforming, I’m finished.”
He poured out his woes between sniffles and tears for five minutes before Fu Yuting finally lost patience and cut him off.
How could this guy and his brother Zhou Ye be so different?
When Zhou Ye heard she was joining Lu Group, he’d immediately mentioned his capable younger brother, the marketing director.
Now that she saw him—
Perhaps she’d been a little too optimistic.
Zhou Lin slumped on the leather sofa, his bespoke suit wrinkled like pickled vegetables, clutching half a pack of tissues, sobbing like a child who’d lost his favorite toy.
“Sister Ting! I really can’t handle the women’s market!”
Fu Yuting crossed her arms on the table, flipping through the file in the far right corner.
“Women’s Consumer Strategy”
Page 5, marked in red:
“Why can’t ‘Heartbreaker Red’ just be called ‘Killer Red’? It’s so much more direct!”
At last she couldn’t hold back, letting out a laugh.
He had, at least, put in the effort—caring for women’s finances and their cosmetics.
She plucked the tear-soaked proposal from his hands. “What do you want to achieve at the banquet in ten days?”
Zhou Lin, sniffling, looked up. “Just—make sure marketing isn’t dead last this year.”
“One more thing—” Zhou Lin hesitated, eyes suddenly watery.
She could tell he was up to no good and said impatiently, “Out with it.”
“Well… We still don’t have a spokesperson,” Zhou Lin admitted sheepishly.
“Brilliant,” Fu Yuting replied, speechless.
Her finger traced the “Brand Ambassador” line on the proposal.
“Proposed: Xie Yunzou (rising star in historical costume dramas)”
Over a hundred million followers, the picture of tragic allure, star of several hit period dramas.
She looked up slowly. “You’ve contacted him?”
Zhou Lin tugged at his perfectly styled hair in frustration. “I used the negotiation tricks my brother taught me! I said—”
“Work with us, and you’ll get all the exposure you want in the finance section!”
Fu Yuting pressed her forehead. “…And you said this to a top star famous for his ‘tragic allure’?”
Zhou Lin pulled out a rejected contract, looking wronged. “I even added a clause: he could promote Lu Group’s women’s financial products during his traditional costume live streams…”
“And then?” Fu Yuting could already imagine the other party’s reaction.
Zhou Lin swallowed, eyes shifting, picking at the corner of the desk.
“He replied with six words.”
“Are you out of your mind?”