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◎Tsk, if hearts were so cold, why pretend to be affectionate in the first place?◎
More intimate acts like this had been frequent in the past.
While Yue Jincheng excelled during the day at work, his “night shifts” were equally impressive.
Though unvalued by his father and family, his status and appearance attracted attention. However, Yue Jincheng remained aloof from romantic entanglements. His stifling and unfulfilled upbringing left him indifferent to matters of love and intimacy.
That changed when he met Fu Jiaxi—like an ascetic monk finally succumbing to the allure of worldly desires.
But things were different now; their once-close marital bond was a thing of the past.
In her most vulnerable moment, he wasn’t even one of her choices for help.
He carried her to the restroom door just as the nurse arrived to take her temperature.
Fu Jiaxi quickly called for assistance, allowing the nurse to take over Yue Jincheng’s earlier act of kindness.
By 2 a.m., Fu Jiaxi finally fell asleep, while Yue Jincheng on the couch couldn’t close his eyes.
The person on the hospital bed lay delicate and tranquil, like a dormant flower. Scattered papers rested near her pillow. She understood her condition well—medication would ease it, and she could seize the opportunity to revise her tender documents.
A sudden thought struck Yue Jincheng, reminding him of what his grandmother had said yesterday:
“Jiaxi’s heart carries much sorrow.”
He had mistaken “sorrow” for “hardship.” Now, the realization dawned on him—it was indeed “heartache.”
A lump formed in Yue Jincheng’s chest, heavy and unresolved. Quietly, he picked up the scattered drafts and skimmed through them, gaining clarity.
When Fu Jiaxi woke up, she felt significantly better. The couch was empty—Yue Jincheng was no longer in the room.
The nurse came in to take her temperature. “You’ll need another full day of IV treatment.”
Fu Jiaxi hurriedly responded, “I’m fine now. I’ll ask the doctor for some medication.”
“That won’t do,” the nurse replied. “You need to speak with the doctor.”
“It’s useless to talk to the doctor anyway,” Yue Jincheng interjected as he entered the room, carrying a thermos of millet porridge and steamed buns. “Ask the doctor to write a medical certificate. Any company would allow employees to take sick leave.”
Fu Jiaxi opened her mouth to argue.
Yue Jincheng cut her off. “Would you rather research the materials yourself for your tender, or should I offer my input?”
Fu Jiaxi conceded. “Alright, I’ll take sick leave.”
Yue Jincheng dialed Jiao Rui, confirming that Jiayi had been sent to school and instructing him not to come to the group headquarters today. Important documents would be brought here instead.
While Yue Jincheng handled these arrangements, Fu Jiaxi noticed the neatly organized drafts on the side table. Alongside her notes were new annotations—Yue Jincheng’s comments from last night.
The framework divisions, key points, doubts about existing data—all were clear at a glance.
“The system structure hasn’t deviated, but the arguments lack precision. The data charts aren’t persuasive enough. Focus on specific calculations, expanding from points to broader implications. A tender is like building a pyramid—the stability of its peak depends on the strength of the data and reasoning.”
Treating his advice like a revelation, Fu Jiaxi read carefully. “What about the market analysis section?”
“It’s well-written. You’ve put in the effort.”
Yue Jincheng’s critique was fair—neither overly praising nor deliberately belittling to assert dominance.
Fu Jiaxi smiled, her sickly pallor dissipating.
Yue Jincheng’s lips curved upward slightly as he objectively pointed out areas she needed to pay special attention to.
Fu Jiaxi interrupted, “Wait a moment—I need a pen.”
Yue Jincheng asked, “Taking notes so seriously?”
“It’s not seriousness—it’s because my memory has become terrible after having the baby.” She lowered her head, her tone subdued. “If I don’t write it down, I’ll forget.”
Yue Jincheng’s fingers trembled slightly, momentarily speechless.
________________________________________
Later, they sat together quietly, the air thick with unsaid emotions. Yue Jincheng watched her scribble furiously, her brows furrowed in concentration. Despite her frailty, there was an undeniable determination in her gaze—a stark contrast to the woman who had clung to him years ago, seeking solace.
He recalled her laughter back then, light and carefree, like sunlight filtering through leaves. But now, even her smile seemed burdened, weighed down by invisible chains.
“Why didn’t you call me?” The question slipped out before he could stop it.
Fu Jiaxi paused, her pen hovering above the paper. After a moment, she replied softly, “Would it have made a difference?”
Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. He wanted to argue, to tell her that of course it would have mattered—that he still cared deeply—but the truth was more complicated than either of them dared to admit.
Instead, he forced a neutral tone. “It might have saved you some trouble.”
Fu Jiaxi glanced at him briefly, her expression unreadable. “Trouble isn’t something I can avoid, Yue Jincheng. It’s part of life.”
Her use of his full name stung. Once, she had called him “Jincheng” with such warmth and familiarity. Now, it felt distant, formal—an echo of their fractured relationship.
Silence stretched between them, broken only by the occasional rustle of paper or the soft hum of the IV machine.
Eventually, Yue Jincheng spoke again, his voice softer this time. “You shouldn’t push yourself so hard. Work isn’t everything.”
“I know,” she murmured without looking up. “But what else do I have?”
The raw honesty in her voice pierced him. For all her strength and resilience, Fu Jiaxi was still human—fragile, vulnerable, and yearning for something more.
He wanted to reach out, to comfort her, but the barriers between them were too high, too entrenched. Instead, he focused on practicalities. “Eat something. You need energy.”
She nodded absentmindedly, continuing to jot down notes. The space between them remained vast, yet strangely intimate—a testament to their shared history and lingering connection.
As the morning light filtered through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the room, Yue Jincheng found himself reflecting on how far they had drifted apart. And yet, despite everything, traces of their past lingered—faint but undeniable.
Perhaps reconciliation wasn’t possible. Perhaps forgiveness was too much to ask. But in that quiet hospital room, amidst the hum of machines and the scent of antiseptic, they found a fragile peace—a temporary truce forged not out of love, but mutual understanding.
For now, it was enough.
“Continue. What else?” Fu Jiaxi raised her face, her eyes sincere, as though she had long accepted these invisible changes.
Yue Jincheng couldn’t bear to meet her gaze, his heart sharply stung.
“You work on revising it first. If there are any doubts, I can review it again later,” Yue Jincheng said. “In your current condition, you must rest for a few days. If your company refuses to grant leave, I’ll have Attorney Cheng handle it for you.”
“No need,” Fu Jiaxi firmly declined. “It’s not easy for me to find a suitable job.”
His heart tightened further. “People might think I mistreated you and Jiayi.”
Fu Jiaxi paused, then realized. “Next time, I’ll be more mindful. According to the divorce agreement, I’ll do my best to uphold your image.”
When they divorced, Yue Jincheng had already assumed the role of Executive Director at Baifeng Group. Several key projects were underway, and during this critical phase of capital operations, any disruption could impact the company’s stock price. The board unanimously opposed dealing with personal matters at such a sensitive time, urging him to delay the divorce. But Yue Jincheng insisted—firmly, immediately respecting all of Fu Jiaxi’s wishes.
During that period, he faced opposition from all sides, both internally and externally. The divorce agreement went through three rounds of revisions by the group’s legal team. Among the most crucial clauses was:
Both parties agree to separate amicably and voluntarily. In the future, the woman shall not make any statements or actions that distort facts or harm the man’s reputation or image.
Precisely because of this, Yue Jincheng’s reputation in Fu Jiaxi’s close circle of friends was utterly tarnished. All he received in return was a dismissive scoff: “Tsk, if hearts were so cold, why pretend to be affectionate in the first place?”
He remained silent. Fu Jiaxi furrowed her brows, deep in thought. Perhaps this time, he truly cared about her? Truly wanted her to rest?
“I’m sorry, I misunderstood.” She quickly apologized.
Yue Jincheng looked at her bewildered expression, like a lost young animal unable to discern direction or truth from falsehood, doubting love itself.
He felt defeated, but also a tinge of guilt for words left unsaid.
Fu Jiaxi kindly reminded him, “Bai Duo will come soon. Are you sure you want to see her?”
Yue Jincheng replied dryly, “Why would I want to see her? Just to get scolded and beaten up again?”
Fu Jiaxi gently countered, “She’s changed a lot.”
Yue Jincheng sneered, “Then congratulations. Tell her to focus on being a good citizen instead of meddling in others’ affairs.”
Fu Jiaxi pondered silently. His words seemed sarcastic, carrying an implied meaning.
________________________________________
By evening, the sky had softened slightly. Outside the villa, the lush green garden swayed gently in the breeze, bathed in a filtered light.
Inside, the atmosphere was harmonious. The women laughed and chatted about jewelry recommendations and upcoming trips to Switzerland next month. The men conversed warmly with Yue Puhuai, discussing business strategies and opportunities.
As Yue Jincheng entered, his eldest uncle smiled brightly. “Perfect timing! The land at Beicheng Bay was acquired by Jincheng. There’s a massive demand for construction materials. You should toast him a few times—he owes you a share of the profits.”
Uncle Yue Fan was adept at concealing daggers behind smiles. The targeted father-in-law was no match for him and could only awkwardly smile and nod along.
“If you’re so eager to make decisions for Jincheng, why don’t you just agree yourself? It’d better showcase your capabilities,” Aunt Yue Linmei interjected, naturally defending her husband.
The siblings had been at odds for years, and tensions were about to flare.
“The Beicheng Bay project is under ‘Ducheng’—not directly handled by me. If Uncle has resources, he can send the pricing list to Vice President Yuan for evaluation. I’ll have Secretary Jiao provide the contact information. We’re family after all—it’s only right.”
Only what?
Only providing contact details, or actually offering assistance?
Yue Jincheng spoke tactfully, leaving room for interpretation.
Understanding her nephew well, Aunt Yue Linmei avoided further embarrassment and feigned lightheartedness.
Dinner proceeded smoothly. Yue Jincheng sat beside his father, carefully serving dishes and speaking softly, fulfilling every filial duty. None of the neglect or grievances from his childhood were evident now.
What grudge could last between father and son? Now, respect and filial piety reigned supreme.
Suddenly, Aunt Ma brought up, “Xiao Qin has returned to the country. I saw her at the International Finance Center this morning. She’s grown even more beautiful and remains very polite.”
Aunt Yue Linmei pretended to be surprised. “Ye Qin’s back? I heard she was engaged!”
“You’re mistaken,” Aunt Ma chuckled. “She’s single—just like Jincheng.”
Aunt Yue Linmei immediately chimed in, jokingly adding, “They grew up together; their relationship is strong.”
Aunt Ma, straightforward and unfiltered, remarked, “That’s perfect! A talented man and a beautiful woman—they’re a great match.”
The guests, all astute individuals, refrained from commenting, quietly observing Yue Jincheng’s reaction.
Yue Jincheng focused on eating, indifferent, casually making a phone call.
“Could you check on Bed 20? Thank you for keeping an eye on her. Let me know immediately if anything happens—I’ll come right away.”
The relatives expressed concern. “Who’s unwell?”
Yue Jincheng blew on a spoonful of chicken soup, swallowing before replying, “Jiaxi.”
The atmosphere cracked noticeably.
Mentioning Fu Jiaxi at this moment was deliberate enough for anyone with half a brain to pick up on the cue.
Unfortunately, Aunt Ma lacked even half a brain, blurting out, “Her health is so poor—how can she take care of our Jiayi?”
“Aunt Ma,” Cousin Yue Mingxin interrupted with a playful smile. “The weather’s changing tomorrow—storms ahead.”
Aunt Ma was baffled. “What does that have to do with me?”
“Exactly—it has nothing to do with you!” Yue Mingxin quipped, rolling her eyes pointedly.
Dinner unfolded like a predictable drama. Yue Jincheng ate mechanically, feeling numb and disinterested.
Afterward, he accompanied Yue Puhuai in the study to discuss work matters. Yue Puhuai was highly satisfied with him, a stark contrast to his stern demeanor years ago. Now, praise and trust flowed freely.
Once business was concluded, Yue Puhuai shifted topics. “Next week, the Guan family’s new building will hold its inauguration ceremony. Attend with me. Xiao Qin has officially taken over the business department upon her return. You’ve known each other since childhood—you should support her fully.”
Yue Jincheng nodded. “I will.”
At medication time, the family doctor entered, and Yue Jincheng stepped out of the study with a document in hand.
In the small lounge on the second floor, Yue Shaoheng had been waiting for some time. “Big Brother.”
Yue Jincheng gave a slight nod. “Something on your mind?”
Yue Shaoheng stood tall in his white attire, youthful and handsome. At twenty-eight, he showed no signs of aging, thanks to his love for cycling and mountaineering. His healthy vigor made him the most boyish of the three brothers.
“Father’s cold-hearted, isn’t he?” Yue Shaoheng glanced toward the study. “He heard everything at dinner but didn’t utter a word of concern—not even her name.”
Though vague, Yue Jincheng understood perfectly. He calmly replied, “Whether he mentions her or not doesn’t matter.”
Yue Shaoheng pressed, “It’s not about whether it matters—it’s… truly heartless.”
Yue Jincheng’s gaze darkened like ink dissolving in water. “So, are you trying to distinguish yourself now? Or are you telling me you’re different from the man in that study—that you have feelings?”
His words carried sharpness and emotion. Yue Jincheng suppressed his temper, exuding impatience and restrained warning.
Yue Shaoheng hesitated briefly but persisted. “Brother, is Jiaxi… is she seriously ill? Is she better now?”
“Enough!” Yue Jincheng snapped, his gaze piercing like an arrow drawn taut. “You must remember—she is your sister-in-law.”
“Of course I remember she’s my sister-in-law,” Yue Shaoheng’s lips trembled. “She was once, but not anymore.”
In an instant, Yue Jincheng raised his hand, hurling the document violently at his face.
Yue Shaoheng didn’t dodge. Even after the painful blow, he stood his ground.
“Since she’s not anymore, why shouldn’t I be allowed to care for her?”