Chapter 241: Who Made Her Like You?

Zhou Yinhe found it funny, but he hadn't forgotten the point.

"Wen Ling asked to break up with me—was that your doing?"

"That's your own relationship problems—what does it have to do with me?" Zhou Jingyuan withdrew his gaze and said lightly, "She doesn't like you anymore; she finds you annoying, finds you stale, and dumped you—should I blame her for that?"

Zhou Yinhe couldn't help blurting out a curse, he sprang to his feet, grabbed Zhou Jingyuan's collar, and lifted him up.

He gritted his teeth and said, "What about Qi Zhan and Zhao Xingtang? Why does my memory say Qi Zhan likes Zhao Xingtang?"

Zhou Jingyuan drooped his eyelids, not looking at him, letting him hold on.

"Did you tamper with my memory, controlling Wen Ling and me to break up?" Zhou Yinhe stared at him fiercely and said, "You've been using us as experiments all along—first you made Wen Ling break up with me for no clear reason, and even she doesn't know why we split."

"Later, you tampered with my memory again, so you could later find Zhao Xingtang as your assistant and lay the groundwork, making me clearly aware that Zhao Xingtang was colluding with you, but because my memory said Qi Zhan liked her, I couldn't investigate further."

Zhou Jingyuan neither admitted nor denied, only chuckling and asking, "These are just your guesses."

"Then tell me, if you're targeting me, that's fine—but why bring Wen Ling into this?" Zhou Yinhe tightened his grip on his collar, enunciating each word: "She doesn't even know you—what right do you have to make her suffer like this?"

Even if it's fake, the heart-wrenching pain Wen Ling feels is real; moreover, if it weren't for Zhou Jingyuan, they would have married long ago—why make Wen Ling swallow her pride to chase him again?

Zhou Jingyuan shoved him away sharply and snapped, "Who made her like you? If she didn't like you, nothing would have happened, right?"

"Blame yourself—you're the one who insisted on dating her. If you hadn't, she wouldn't have suffered those misfortunes."

Zhou Yinhe thought Zhou Jingyuan had gone mad; at that moment he seemed possessed, his eyes glaring at Zhou Yinhe bloodshot.

Zhou Jingyuan snorted coldly, "Instead of wasting time questioning me, you'd better reflect on yourself."

Zhou Yinhe wouldn't follow his train of thought, the corner of his mouth twitching up as he softly asked, "So, you're admitting it."

"Yes, I admit it—I did all that. Even Wen Ling's death at her uncle's hands and your suicide in a dream were my doing; I just don't like you—what can you do about it?"

Zhou Yinhe shook his head. "I have no recourse, Zhou Jingyuan—I promised my father I wouldn't lay a hand on you, but if you keep provoking me, I can't help it."

Having said that, his eyes lifted, the smile vanished from his face in an instant, and he kicked Zhou Jingyuan away with a sudden lift of his leg.

Zhou Jingyuan hadn't eaten his fill for days, lying on the ground like a withered leaf, unable even to cry out in pain.

Zhou Yinhe strode up to him and rained blows on Zhou Jingyuan, saying coldly, "I'm doing this for your uncle and aunt—they raised you to adulthood, yet you hold a grudge over a trivial matter and a few words, you beast."

"As for your grandfather, you only see what he left me—why not look at what he left you? Isn't it enough? You think your company's success is due to your own effort—no! Your grandfather arranged it all for you long ago."

"And my parents love you as much as they love their own son; you and my elder brothers are the same in that regard—except I'm the youngest, so they inevitably show a bit of favoritism, which makes you resent them and puts them in a tough spot."

Zhou Yinhe lowered his hands, stood up, and coldly stared at Zhou Jingyuan: "Calling you a beast is an insult to the word itself."

He turned and walked away, giving Zhou Jingyuan no more glance; as he was about to step out of the ancestral hall, a weak voice came from behind.

"Xiao Wu, I'm sorry—I have regretted it, but the outcome is already set; I tried to change it later, but only managed a minor effect." He coughed, his voice low and muffled: "Wen Ling being able to come back to you isn't just because of my control; it's also because she truly likes you, and your quick reconciliation is because you like her too, breaking through the original plot I set for you."

"Sorry—I'm sorry to you, sorry to my parents and aunt..."

Zhou Yinhe's steps halted in place; hearing his voice, his eyes reddened, yet he steeled himself and left.

He returned to the front courtyard, where Ning Qing and Zhou Shuanglin were sitting with his brothers and sisters at a table by the garden.

Seeing Zhou Yinhe approach, Ning Qing hastily rose to greet him, asking softly, "How is it? Jingyuan..."

Zhou Yinhe said, "Find him a doctor, release him, and then keep him under watch beside my elder brothers."

Zhou Yanqiu nodded first and said, "Let him follow me."

After all, he's my cousin; no matter how many mistakes he's made, since I've forgiven him, they can't say anything else—out of respect for our second uncle, we ought to give him a chance.

Zhou Yinhe sat beside his second elder brother, rubbing his forehead, feeling irritable.

Zhou Qiyue looked at him, puzzled: "Since you know the truth, why are you still bothered? Go explain things properly to Wen Ling."

"Not that simple." Zhou Yinhe sighed, "If she found out it was my older cousin who did this, she might think worse of me—honestly, if it weren't for growing up together and having our second uncle around, I'd really want to beat him to death."

Zhou Shuanglin lifted her tea, took a sip, and said lightly, "Even without our second uncle, I wouldn't allow you to have family blood on your hands."

Zhou Shuanglin values family ties; although she favors her youngest son, punishment is still punishment—she won't go for a lethal strike.

Ning Qing reached out and twisted his arm, saying, "What's there to say? The youngest son is naturally anxious."

"I'm leaving, heading to M Country." Zhou Yinhe rose to go, but Zhou Zhaoning grabbed him back, displeased: "We've all returned—aren't you going to eat with us?"

"Go eat with Zhao Ningyan—I'm in a hurry." Zhou Yinhe tried to shake off her hand, but Zhou Qiyue also grabbed him.

Zhou Zhaoning snorted, "No, sit properly—after dinner you can go wherever you like."

Zhou Yinhe looked at Ning Qing, drawing out his words: "Mom, take a look at those two."

Ning Qing, for the first time not siding with her youngest son, echoed the daughters: "Sit down—after you finish eating, you can go wherever you want. Mom went to the fashion week a couple days ago and picked out several outfits for Wen Ling; if you're going, bring them along—if you lack tickets, use your father's private jet."

"Fine." Zhou Yinhe had no choice but to sit, resigned: "Then have someone apply for the flight route in advance."

Ning Qing also drew out her voice and nodded: "All right."

But Zhou Yinhe still couldn't rest easy; he took a chance to call Wen Ling, only to completely forget the time difference between the two countries.