Chapter 201: Chapter 201

Mr. Fu was silent for a long time. Suddenly, there was a "snap" sound outside the window, caused by the wind breaking a small branch from the tree.

"I never told anyone," Mr. Fu said.

Wei Ronghua, with tears in her eyes, scrutinized Mr. Fu, trying to discern the truth in his words. Fu Zhengjun was no longer alive, leaving her with no possibility of confirming the truth.

"I hope Father is not lying to me."

Wei Ronghua wiped her tears harshly, uttered a sentence, and stumbled out.

Before she opened the door, Fu Yuling hastily slipped into the nearby bathroom. Once the footsteps faded away, she clutched her chest as she emerged, her face complex as she looked in the direction where Wei Ronghua disappeared.

Her heartbeat was rapid, which was a heavy burden for someone with a heart condition, causing intense discomfort.

Fu Yuling opened her mouth to breathe, aiding in adjustment.

After a good while, she finally felt less discomfort, though the shock in her heart did not cease.

The wound on Fu Yuling’s palm had been bandaged by the family doctor. Fortunately, it wasn’t deep enough to require stitches, only a bleeding control was necessary.

After the doctor left, she went to Wei Ronghua’s room, did not see her, and upon going downstairs, encountered the butler, whom she asked to learn that her mother had gone to Grandpa’s room.

Fu Yuling herself didn’t know why she went there, but when she reached the door, she heard her mother screaming, questioning Grandpa: Whose children are Fu Jichen and Fu Yuling?

At that moment, her shock was akin to seeing a ghost in broad daylight.

Then, she heard Grandpa tell a story from thirty years ago. Those events were far removed from her, yet they had an indelible connection to her.

It turned out, neither she nor her brother were their mother’s children.

Her brother was the child of their father and his first love, while she was just a child taken from the orphanage, abandoned due to being born with a heart condition.

Upon hearing this, Fu Yuling didn’t feel sad. So what if her biological parents abandoned her? If not for being taken in by the Fu Family, she might have died long ago, missing her current worry-free life, and would never have met Fu Jichen.

Fu Jichen used to be her brother, and though he remains her brother now, something about it has changed.

They share no blood relation.

Fu Yuling hid her bandaged hand behind her back, bounced once on the spot with joy, unable to suppress the upturn of her lips, her eyes curved with happiness she couldn’t hide.

She bounced into the living room, beaming, leaving the maid puzzled.

Earlier, when the doctor was bandaging her wound, she cried until she was out of breath, making the doctor exasperated, commanding her not to move recklessly, yet she even lost her temper at him—how could she now turn cheery in an instant?

Like a summer thunderstorm, suddenly coming down and then just as suddenly stopping.

Fu Yuling returned to her room, threw herself onto the bed, pulled a pillow into her arms, and stared at the empty ceiling, smiling foolishly.

Growing up abroad, she would occasionally return home during holidays or her family would fly overseas to visit her. It wasn’t until she was thirteen or fourteen that she officially came back, contrasting her spoiled and willful nature with the already mature and sensible Fu Jichen, who, at the same age, was a little adult.

She recalled the afternoon she returned, Grandpa brought Fu Jichen back from the company, and the imposing stretch limousine stopped in the courtyard. He stepped out of the car in a tailor-fitted black suit and tie, with neat short hair exposing a smooth forehead, thinly pursed lips adding to his striking presence that was hard to look away from.

At that time, his face still held a boyish innocence, but his demeanor was extraordinarily distinguished, combining grace and reliability.

Unlike other boys his age who were either mischievous, chewing gum and tangling it in girls’ hair, or pulling pigtails from behind when the girls were not looking, often grouping to gang up and spewing words they thought were cool profanities.

Compared to them, her brother was like the definition of "perfection."

Perhaps comparing them to her brother was a type of sacrilege.

From the moment they started living together, no other boys captured her gaze anymore.

Later he went abroad for school, forcing their separation, and upon meeting again, he was a different person, like a sapling suddenly growing into a towering tree.

Though they were the same age, in her eyes, he was entirely an adult, while she remained an ignorant child who only knew indulgence.

Not only had his appearance and aura changed, but his personality shift was also apparent. He was cold, reserved, deep, and aloof towards her as a sister, often indifferent.

A Fu Jichen was irresistibly attractive to women, many society girls deliberately approached her, his sister, to inquire about his preferences and whereabouts to orchestrate chance encounters and gain attention.

She found those women vulgar, unworthy of her god-like brother. She held her temper, never breaking with them, feeding them false information about his whereabouts, like teasing cats and dogs, watching their primped disappointed expressions when their efforts fell flat with amusement.

When they approached her for confirmation, she would coolly say, "Oh, I’m sorry, my brother decided not to go last minute."

She felt possessive over Fu Jichen, unwilling to let any woman near him.

Even without her obstruction, Fu Jichen wasn’t interested in those women. Many times, when those noble ladies truly appeared before him, showcasing their stunning figures and beautiful faces, he wouldn’t spare them a glance.

She was ecstatic, believing Fu Jichen was always hers. Though he wasn’t close to her, undeniably, they had the closest relationship in the world, and no one could think of taking him from her side.

It was only during Fu Jichen’s time in Yicheng that she loosened her vigil, giving Shen Jianian an opening.

Yet, what does it matter, Shen Jianian has already been dealt with.

Now, during the mourning period, her brother and the Xu Family’s daughter’s engagement party was canceled, despite most invitations having been sent out. The source of thɪs content is novel※fire.net

The Fu Family, with its strict customs, didn’t require three years of mourning like in ancient times, but a year was necessary. Within that year, Fu Jichen wouldn’t consider marriage.

A year held too many uncertainties, and Fu Yuling secretly investigated, discovering that Xu Youxuan had a boyfriend, and their relationship had reached a stage where marriage discussions were possible; maybe by the end of the year, they might have a child.

Fu Yuling buried her face in the pillow, unable to contain the curve of her smile.

Within this year, she might also have some progress of her own.

Wei Ronghua returned absent-mindedly to the bedroom on the second floor.

The mess still littered the floor, and without orders, the maid dared not proceed to clean up, fearing her displeasure.

As she reached the bedside, her foot accidentally kicked a book, causing it to fall open to a page where a palm-sized paper slipped out.

Wei Ronghua glanced at it, finding it wasn’t a paper slip but the back of a photo.

The books on the shelf were ones she rarely touched; only Fu Zhengjun occasionally browsed them.

Wei Ronghua slowly squatted, picking up the photo, turning it over to reveal a woman standing among some gardenia bushes, wearing a pale yellow dress reminiscent of rice paper, in a retro style, with red beans embroidered on the skirt to symbolize deep longing, paired with a gossamer-thin short-sleeved blouse, her hair partially tied up, offering a faint smile to the camera.

Even through the photo, one could feel the gentle and scholarly aura emanating from her.

Looking at that face, Wei Ronghua suddenly recognized Xiao Heting, who had been deceased for many years.

If this woman had no relation to her, she might have marveled: How could anyone’s appearance harmoniously blend softness with grace?

The edges of the photo were coarse and worn, indicating that her husband must have frequently taken it out to reminisce without her knowledge.

The accusations she once hurled at Fu Zhengjun echoed in her ears: Had he ever truly cared for her?

The answer was affirmative.

Fu Zhengjun never forgot Xiao Heting, not for a day. Regardless of how much she contributed to the household, she could never occupy a space within his heart—how incredibly sad.

She finally realized whom Fu Jichen resembled. As a child, his face was almost a replica of Xiao Heting’s. As he grew, his features matured, decreasing their likeness, but the outline of his eyes remained, still holding traces of Xiao Heting upon close inspection.

It was unfortunate that she had deliberately forgotten everything related to Xiao Heting, not even remembering her appearance clearly, thus never noticing the similarity between them.

But what about her husband?

Mr. Fu said he never told anyone, which naturally included Fu Zhengjun.

Fu Zhengjun was so familiar with Xiao Heting, how could he not suspect when faced with Fu Jichen’s features? He surely knew long ago, which explained his particular affection for Fu Jichen, considering him in all aspects.

"Haha, turns out I’m the most foolish person in the world!" Wei Ronghua began to laugh again, with tears mixed in her laughter, "After thirty years of toil, I ended up making a wedding dress for the person I hated most!"

She shredded the photo into pieces, scattering them into the air while laughing, then doubled over and coughed up a mouthful of blood.