The little girl must have been crying; her eyes were swollen and puffy. Now, held in Fang Mingjun’s arms, she had stopped crying, likely exhausted from her tears. Her head drooped tiredly on the shoulder of a man old enough to be her grandfather, looking utterly worn-out.
Lin Qiao anxiously wanted to rush forward and take the child back, but Shen Qingzhou stepped sideways, blocking her path. Confused, she looked at him, only to realize he had gone ahead to confront Fang Mingjun, taking the child from his arms without hesitation.
Children under three have no memory, but even so, the bond between father and daughter couldn’t be erased from blood. Startled by the sudden change of arms, the little girl looked up at Shen Qingzhou’s face in confusion. After a while, tears began to well up in her eyes. She threw her arms around her father’s neck and burst into loud sobs.
Standing beside Shen Qingzhou, Lin Qiao watched her daughter with aching concern. Shen patted the child’s back gently, then handed her over to Lin to hold. Frowning at Fang Mingjun, he asked, “Where’s my mother?”
Fang Mingjun stood at the office door with his hands in his pockets, glancing at them. “Come in.”
Seeing the culprit walk inside, Shen Qingzhou and Lin Qiao followed without hesitation. The heavy door of the chairman’s office closed behind them, and Xiaozhou, the secretary in the outer office, wore a look of curiosity mixed with exasperation.
The way the rich lived was truly different from ordinary people. The company already kept Fang Mingjun busy enough, yet he insisted on meddling in “side matters,” drawing trouble from difficult people. Xiaozhou couldn’t quite understand. The previous Ms. Xie had been formidable enough; now her son and daughter-in-law had arrived. It was sure to be an eventful day at Fangshi Group.
After entering the chairman’s office, Fang Mingjun didn’t immediately answer Shen Qingzhou’s question. Instead, he calmly poured tea for Shen and Lin, gestured for them to sit on the sofa, and assumed the posture of a heart-to-heart conversation.
Shen Qingzhou, experienced in life and being a man, could relatively calmly face the situation. But Lin Qiao was a woman—seeing the man who had harmed her family, she couldn’t help but feel upset.
“We don’t have the mood to drink tea with you,” she blurted out. “Please release my mother-in-law. Mr. Fang, being a smart man, should know what’s at stake with your decision.”
Fang Mingjun turned to look at Lin, smiling politely. Although Shen hadn’t directly questioned or threatened him, he likely wanted to. Lin had simply voiced what he was thinking. After all, Fang had long observed the deep bond between Shen and his mother, Xie Jiayi. Fang knew them well—Xie Jiayi would even divorce him for Shen Qingzhou, and Shen Qingzhou would do anything for his mother. Hunting Beauty and Savoring Fragrance.
“She’s resting,” Fang replied lightly. “She’s asleep inside. When you arrived, the child had just stopped crying. She’s been tired all day and fell asleep.”
How casually he said it, as if Xie Jiayi and the child had willingly come here as guests. Lin Qiao’s expression shifted as she glanced at Shen Qingzhou. Shen stared at Fang, his face expressionless. “What do you want.”
His question carried no curiosity, as if he didn’t really care, merely going through the motions. But Fang didn’t mind, readily answering, “I don’t plan to do anything.” He took out a cigarette, lit it, crossed his legs elegantly, and looked down at the younger generation. “If your mother hadn’t divorced me, you’d still call me Dad. Would I harm my own granddaughter?”
Shen Qingzhou gave a cold laugh. “Mr. Fang, you’ve got it wrong. My daughter isn’t worthy enough to be your granddaughter.”
Fang didn’t take offense, lowering his voice. “Shen Qingzhou, you’re so smart—you should know why I did this. Call off the police you brought, and both your mother and daughter can return home safely. The one you should be dealing with now isn’t me, an old and lonely man, but that despicable schemer who’s trying to divert blame and reap the benefits.”
Instantly, Shen Qingzhou and Lin Qiao understood who Fang was referring to. They exchanged silent glances before Lin asked, “You’ve been working with him all along to avenge your son. Why are you helping us now?”
Fang was indeed helping them. Zhao Chunjun had been trying to worsen the rift between Fang and Shen, letting them fight while he watched from the sidelines. Fang had gone along with the plan, pretending to kidnap Shen’s mother and daughter. He allowed Zhao to take credit for it, then explained the situation to Shen, making Zhao believe he had succeeded, luring him into lowering his guard and accelerating his plans. This way, Fang could disrupt Zhao’s strategy and deal with him more effectively—an arrangement so precise it could be called perfect.
But like Lin Qiao, Shen Qingzhou was puzzled by one thing: what had made Fang change his mind? Shen was certain that initially, Fang had genuinely wanted him ruined and disgraced to avenge his only son.
“Helping you?” Fang slowly repeated Lin’s words. The curling smoke blurred his mature, intelligent face. His voice carried the calm authority and persuasion of someone his age. “I’m only helping myself.” He stood up, turned his back to them, clearly signaling them to leave. “Take the child and go. I’ll send your mother home when she wakes up.” He glanced back briefly to explain, “Don’t worry. Even if I were to do something wrong, I wouldn’t use her as a pawn.” He stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray and walked into the inner office without looking back. The CEO’s Devoted Lover.
Lin Qiao looked at Shen Qingzhou, seeking his opinion on whether to really go home just like that. Shen stood there, gazing at Fang’s back for a moment before turning to Lin. “Let’s go.” He took her hand and left the office.
As the office door opened, they saw Fang’s current secretary, Xiaozhou, dealing with the police outside. Xu Jie stood in the middle of the group of plainclothes officers. Shen Qingzhou gave Xu a subtle shake of the head and left with the child and Lin Qiao. Xu understood immediately, whispered “stand down” to his men, and walked away. It was clear this had been prearranged; otherwise, how could they leave so easily? These were police officers, after all—coming here wasn’t something they’d do lightly.
Lin Qiao got into the car with Shen Qingzhou and headed home. Holding the child in the passenger seat, she noticed the little girl had fallen asleep from crying. She gently patted the child’s back while glancing at Shen, who was driving. His expression was grim. The golden evening light outlined his sharp brows and eyes, his demeanor cold and distant, hiding beneath a calm surface the fire that had been burning since he got on the plane.
He was angry—Lin Qiao could feel it. But she couldn’t figure out who he was angry at or why.
To avoid provoking him, Lin didn’t dare breathe too loudly on the way home. Shen glanced at her while waiting at a red light, noticing her nervousness. His demeanor turned even colder, as if he were angrier. Lin was completely baffled. Still, she knew how hard Shen had been working lately. He had rushed back from Zhoushan to deal with family matters, and who knew if things there were even settled. He was facing too many difficulties, so it was understandable that he was frustrated. She had to be patient with him. Even if he seemed a bit strange, Lin obediently let him act as he wished.
When they got home, Shen Qingzhou parked the car in the garage and wearily got out. Watching Lin Qiao carry their daughter through the side door into the house, he followed them inside and up to the second floor, watching as she laid the child in the crib. Once he was sure the little girl wouldn’t wake up anytime soon, he grabbed Lin’s wrist and pulled her out of the nursery.
“Hey!” Lin whispered in alarm. “What are you doing? You’re hurting me. Slow down…”
As she asked, Shen slowed his pace slightly and loosened his grip on her wrist but didn’t let go. He kept holding her until they reached their bedroom.
Above the large bed hung the wedding photo of Shen Qingzhou and Lin Qiao. In the picture, Shen looked down at Lin, who smiled joyfully at the camera. His gaze was so tender it could melt hearts. The contrast between that moment and the present was like night and day.
Lin Qiao rubbed her wrist nervously. “What’s wrong with you?”
Shen turned to face her, hands on his waist. “What’s wrong with me?” He gave a self-mocking smile. “Yeah, I’d like to know too. Why is there so much going on lately? Why so many problems? It’s so annoying. So damn annoying!”
From the time Lin Qiao met Shen Qingzhou to the day they married, this was the first time she had seen him lose control. She had never seen him like this. There were obvious red veins in his eyes—clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping well lately. His dark circles were deep, and though his face was still pale, it wasn’t a healthy pallor. He had lost weight. Though his appearance remained neat, his energy and spirit were nowhere near what they used to be.
Guilt washed over Lin Qiao instantly. Apologetically, she said, “I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have gotten involved in all this…”
Shen’s expression had been harsh, but seeing her look so guilty and unable to face him, all his anger melted away. He wasn’t angry at her—he was angry at himself. Today’s events had hit him hard, making him realize he wasn’t omnipotent. When his mother and daughter were in trouble, he had been far away, helpless, relying on others, nearly causing a major disaster. This failure, something he hadn’t experienced in years, had shaken him deeply. He wasn’t mad at Lin Qiao—she had misunderstood.
Helplessly, Shen sighed, stepped forward, and hugged her, kissing the edge of her ear. Then, moving down, he left a mark on her pale neck. As the kisses deepened, he couldn’t control himself anymore. He pulled her down onto the bed with him. The night had not yet come, but this couple, reunited after a long separation, had already begun their passionate embrace.
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