Chapter 23

Yu Moxun hadn’t opened his mouth when Rong Ci heard someone approaching and greeting him; she turned her head and locked eyes with Lin Wu.

Lin Wu had been smiling politely, but at the sight of Rong Ci, her gaze turned icy.

She glanced away instantly, then turned back to Yu Moxun with a faint smile as if Rong Ci didn’t exist, ready to speak—when Yu Moxun smiled at Rong Ci and spoke first: “This is Miss Lin, Xiao Ci. Would you like to get to know her?”

Yu Moxun’s words carried three meanings.

One: he and Rong Ci were close.

Two: he knew about the feud between her and Rong Ci.

Three: he was making his stance clear—he stood with Rong Ci.

Lin Wu had never known Yu Moxun and Rong Ci were acquainted, let alone this close.

She didn’t know exactly what their relationship was.

But since Yu Moxun had said that, how could she not understand his meaning?

She said coldly: “So, Director Yu are you saying I don’t need to report to Changmo tomorrow?”

Yu Moxun smiled approvingly, set down his glass, and clapped his hands: “Miss Lin is truly brilliant.”

Yu Moxun could have conveyed his meaning far more tactfully.

But he didn’t.

By doing this, he was telling Lin Wu in action: there was no room for tact—he stood with Rong Ci, and he made this decision precisely because of Rong Ci.

Lin Wu understood perfectly.

She felt no shame or humiliation, because in her view, Changmo was decent, but nothing compared to the Feng family; Yu Moxun wasn’t even worthy of humiliating her.

She said nothing more, turned calmly, and walked away.

Rong Ci watched, smiled warmly, and was about to speak to Yu Moxun when she noticed Feng Tingshen, He Zhangbai, and Qi Yuming all staring her way.

Or rather, they had been watching Lin Wu, and that’s why they turned this way.

Perhaps they hadn’t expected her to attend the banquet.

Seeing her, Qi Yuming and He Zhangbai both looked surprised.

But Feng Tingshen’s face showed nothing—utterly blank.

Blank, as if she weren’t his wife, but a stranger he’d never met.

“What’s wrong?” Yu Moxun looked over.

Rong Ci shook her head and smiled: “Nothing.”

At that moment, Lin Wu had returned to her seat, and Feng Tingshen and the others no longer paid attention to this side.

Rong Ci resumed chatting with Professor Liu.

After Professor Liu left, Rong Ci took a sip of her drink and looked up to find Qi Yuming watching her with a faint, mocking smile.

As for Feng Tingshen, he was now facing away from her.

Seeing her look over, Qi Yuming raised an eyebrow and lifted his glass toward her.

Rong Ci frowned, unsure what Qi Yuming meant.

Qi Yuming seemed to sneer at her, then turned his gaze away, no longer paying her any attention.

Rong Ci suddenly understood.

He probably thought she and Yu Moxun had bullied Lin Wu—he was warning her: this isn’t over.

Rong Ci frowned.

A while later, the banquet host, after circulating among guests, finally returned.

After exchanging pleasantries, he asked Yu Moxun: “Do you know that Miss Lin?”

The “Miss Lin” referred to, of course, was Lin Wu.

Yu Moxun smiled: “You could say that. Why?”

“I learned a bit while chatting earlier. I heard she’s not from Ducheng—she’s from Y City. Her family’s business is doing quite well there, fairly well-known locally—but compared to Ducheng standards, it’s modest, especially next to big families like the Fengs, Hes, and Qis.”

Yu Moxun: “So?”

“Someone from a family like that usually struggles to even get noticed in our circle, let alone break into the inner circle of families like the Fengs. But this Miss Lin slipped right in—and she’s close to them. That’s impressive.”

“I was puzzled why Feng Tingshen suddenly showed up at my banquet—then I realized he was introducing her to connections.”

“If Feng Tingshen is personally building her network and bringing He Zhangbai and the others along, it proves he’s serious about her. If she were just a plaything kept at his side, he wouldn’t go this far.”

“With Feng Tingshen paving the way, the Lin family’s future will likely soar.”

Yu Moxun and Rong Ci listened without responding.

Finally, the host sighed: “To have a daughter like that—those Lin ancestors must’ve burned incense in heaven. Truly enviable.”

As the banquet host finished speaking, Rong Ci lifted her gaze and noticed Feng Tingshen and the others were no longer in the hall—they’d left early.

Even after seeing her, Feng Tingshen had never once looked her way.

Half an hour later, Rong Ci and Yu Moxun also left.

Back home, her phone rang—it was Feng Tingshen calling.

Rong Ci paused.

Had he come to confront her? Because he thought she and Yu Moxun had bullied Lin Wu?

Given Qi Yuming’s warning at the banquet, it was likely Feng Tingshen had intended it all along.

Two seconds later, she answered calmly: “Hello.”

Feng Tingshen’s tone was cold: “Come home.”

Rong Ci saw no need to return: “Just say what you want.”

“Jingxin has a fever. She wants to see you.”

He hung up immediately.

Rong Ci froze, grabbed her car keys, slipped on her shoes, and stepped out.

Arriving at the villa, she got out of the car and went inside—she didn’t see Feng Tingshen, but she didn’t care, heading straight for her daughter’s second-floor bedroom.

Feng Jingxin had a high fever, was hooked up to an IV, and looked miserable; she softly called “Mommy,” reaching out to be held.

Rong Ci noticed the IV needle on her daughter’s hand, gently picked her up, and asked Liu Shen beside her: “Has she eaten?”

“She ate a little, then threw it all up.”

Rong Ci frowned, asked the doctor for details, then looked at Feng Jingxin, curled in her arms and unwilling to let go: “Hungry? I’ll make you some porridge—you like it. Have some after the IV’s done?”

“Mm.”

In the past, when she was sick, only Rong Ci took care of her.

She couldn’t stomach porridge anyone else made—she only wanted Rong Ci’s.

She wrinkled her tiny nose and asked: “Where’s Dad? Hasn’t he come home yet?”

Rong Ci froze.

When she got Feng Tingshen’s call, she assumed he’d already returned.

When she entered and didn’t see him, she thought he was in his study.

Now, hearing Feng Jingxin say that, she realized Feng Tingshen hadn’t come home yet.

The banquet hotel was closer to this villa than her own residence, and he’d left at least half an hour before her—even if he’d first dropped Lin Wu off, he should’ve been home by now.

Unless he didn’t leave right after dropping her off—or unless he never intended to come home tonight.