The atmosphere at Fu Corporation was stifling. The conference room on the 39th floor had become somewhere people only entered if absolutely necessary.
Worst off was the Business Division in charge of overseas projects—the "DY Startup Plan." Weeks of sleepless work on their project proposal had been completely rejected.
Every day was spent scrambling to revise and adjust. But each time they delivered their latest draft to the CEO’s office, it was thrown back at them without a second glance.
In the end, it was Henry Hart who stayed up two consecutive nights with the team, revising the proposal once more before Fu Zhiyue was finally willing to take a serious look.
"President, would you like me to bring your lunch up today?"
Fu Corporation had its own cafeteria—two entire floors, the 7th and 8th, right in the heart of the priciest part of the city. Besides regular meals, there were famous snacks from all over, a coffee bar... The employee perks were honestly excellent.
Henry Hart had brought up Fu Zhiyue’s lunch twice, only to find it untouched both times.
Fu Zhiyue kept his eyes on the proposals and spreadsheets, not even looking up. “No need.”
"But you haven't eaten anything at all today," Henry Hart added quietly.
At last, Fu Zhiyue tore his attention from the documents and glanced up. "I’ll eat after work. There are still a few sections in this proposal that need major revisions. Take it to the Business Division."
After sending Henry Hart away, Fu Zhiyue yanked his collar loose. He wasn’t hungry at all, nor did he want to stop. Burying himself in work was the only way he could avoid thinking about the person on his mind.
In his otherwise charmed life, this was his greatest defeat—never before had he been so lost about what to do.
Every option seemed wrong.
He’d even considered that Cecilia would truly never let him get close again. Ha, serves him right.
He lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag and leaning back in his wide chair, all his workplace sharpness gone.
The minibar in the lounge was already half-emptied in just a few days.
His stomach ached every day, thudding with pain.
......
Cecilia Ye had been staying at the Chen house for several days now. Charles Chase left for work during the day and came home late—often only after she was already asleep.
With nothing to do in the daytime, Cecilia helped the gardeners trim the magnolia blossoms, treating it as light exercise.
There were plenty of hibiscus roses planted throughout the courtyard, just like the ones she’d put in her own studio. They must be blooming back there too, she thought.
Her stay in the old Chen mansion had been comfortable overall. The staff were attentive to her, and the meals were all tailored to her tastes. Xiao Mu, in particular, stuck by her side with careful devotion.
Only Uncle Chen’s gaze unsettled her. Having grown up as an unwanted guest in others’ homes, she was naturally sensitive to people’s moods—and lately she was sure: Uncle Chen didn’t care for her.
In her first couple of days, Xiao Mu had shared a bit about the manor’s history. Cecilia pieced it together: that awful man—her father—had brought disgrace to the Chase family for over a decade. And now, as his daughter, she was inevitably disliked by Uncle Chen as well.
That was only human nature, and Cecilia Ye understood.
So she did her best to make herself scarce, steering clear whenever Uncle Chen was around and never adding to his workload.
After trimming the hibiscus, she returned to her room—just in time to see Uncle Chen in the foyer. He nodded slightly in greeting, his cloudy eyes darting from her face to her belly.
His look made Cecilia uncomfortable. Instinctively, she shielded her stomach with a hand, not wanting such eyes on her baby.
Xiao Mu came in. She was a sweet, innocent girl and seemed oblivious to the chilly undercurrent in the air. She quickly guided Cecilia, "Miss, let’s go wash our hands."
Cecilia followed her toward the first-floor washbasin, but Uncle Chen’s voice suddenly sounded behind them—cold and tinged with something darker. "Miss Ye, you’re pregnant. Who’s the father?"
Cecilia stopped in her tracks, and Xiao Mu turned, wide-eyed and uneasy. Of course Miss was pregnant, but Young Master had only mentioned it in passing; no one had ever pressed for details. Everyone had questions, but propriety kept them silent.
Even though Uncle Chen was one of the elder servants here, he was still just that—a servant. Xiao Mu felt his words crossed a line.
"The child’s father is my husband. Did you have business with him, Uncle Chen?"
Cecilia pretended not to notice the malice in his tone, answering calmly.
"Nothing in particular. I just worry it would look bad if it got out that you had a child out of wedlock…or with another woman's husband."
"Thank you for your concern, Uncle Chen. I am married—just currently separated." She didn’t want to say more, and turned to leave.
After washing her hands with Xiao Mu, Cecilia had thought to enjoy some sunshine in the garden—but her mood was ruined. She returned upstairs to her room.
"Miss, please don’t be angry. Uncle Chen is… well, he’s just stubborn."
Cecilia gave a little smile, taking a clean dress from the wardrobe. "It’s fine. I understand."
But things were rarely as simple as they seemed at times like this.
When Charles Chase got home, Cecilia had just come downstairs from her shower. It was rare for him to arrive early—normally, she hardly saw him at all.
"Bro, you’re home!"
Thinking back to that room filled with pastel pink—the kind of decor only a clueless big brother would dream up—Cecilia couldn’t help but find it endearing.
"Mm. What did you do today?"
He changed his shoes and walked into the living room, setting a stack of documents on the table—apparently ready to work late even after coming home.
Cecilia listed off the little things she’d done, just as dinner was served.
The meals lately had been lighter to accommodate Cecilia, and her morning sickness had eased somewhat with time.
Over dinner, Charles Chase told her that Ye Jing had woken up.
Cecilia’s hand paused mid-bite. "Can I go see her at the hospital?"
"Of course. I’ll have the driver take you tomorrow, but be sure you’re back early."
"All right." A hint of a smile returned to her face.
The weather was getting warmer; sunlight practically melted into the skin.
The next day, after breakfast, Cecilia had the driver take her to the hospital.
He waited for her downstairs while she took the elevator to the 12th floor. Walking through the quiet corridor, she felt both nervous and unsure—wondering what it would be like to finally face her mother.
She glanced down at her outfit: a white dress, a roomy beige knit cardigan over it; her pregnancy wasn't that obvious yet.
Would her mother dislike how she looked?
The glass window to the room was right ahead.
Cecilia pressed herself against the corridor wall and peered in, tiny head sticking out. Perhaps it wasn't the best timing—the figure in bed was still fast asleep. Oddly, that let Cecilia breathe a little easier.
She stood at the window. Last time, she’d come with her brother, her thoughts so jumbled she barely remembered it at all—almost like a dream.
But staying at the Chen house these last few days had given her space to process. She’d finally thought it all through.
If things were really as her brother said, Mom must have suffered a great deal back then.
She patted her belly gently. Four months already. The baby could even move now. She was starting to understand what it meant to be a mother.
She found herself wanting to bear every hardship for her baby; just thinking about the little one softened her heart.
What mother would willingly abandon the child she carried for ten months?
Lost in thought, Cecilia didn’t notice the faint movement of the fingers of the woman sleeping in the hospital bed.