Chapter 337: Using my son
The night was unnervingly silent around the old Fu villa, a sprawling estate that once stood as a symbol of wealth and pride — now reduced to a hollow shell filled with echoes of its past grandeur.
The white marble pillars were slightly discolored from years of neglect, and the golden chandelier in the living room flickered dimly as if it, too, had lost the will to shine.
Inside, Fu Lianhua paced back and forth in the drawing room.
Fu Jing Rong hadn’t even allowed her to stay at the best villas owned by the Fu Family!
Her once-elegant gait — the kind that used to make servants scatter and command silence wherever she went — had turned into frantic, uneven steps. The silk slippers she wore barely clung to her feet, and her robe, though luxurious, hung loosely around her shoulders. Her hair, which she used to have styled every morning with precision, now showed streaks of silver and white that glinted under the light. Her complexion was ashen, and the fine lines around her eyes had deepened into visible trenches of exhaustion and rage.
Gone was the noble, dignified woman who once stood proudly beside Fu Sheng in business events, smiling sweetly while hiding her sharpness beneath layers of poise.
Now, she looked haggard — worn down by the weight of losing control.
She rubbed her trembling fingers against each other as she paced.
Her mind wouldn’t rest.
Even though Gu Heng had told her to stay quiet and let him handle everything, she could not shake off the growing unease clawing at her heart. The image of Fu Jing Rong’s cold expression as he ordered his men to take Fu Sheng away kept replaying in her mind.
He had done it so effortlessly — like sweeping a piece off a chessboard.
And she knew what that meant.
The balance had shifted.
Their plans, their careful manipulations over the years — everything — had just been cut in half.
If they didn’t act quickly, Fu Jing Rong would seize complete control.
Fu Lianhua stopped pacing and turned to the mirror on the wall. The reflection that stared back at her was almost unrecognizable — a woman whose beauty had been replaced by bitterness.
Her lips twisted. "No," she whispered to herself. "It’s not over yet."
And then, suddenly, a thought came to her.
Fu Ling.
Her son.
The one card she still had left to play.
A slow, deliberate smile crept onto her lips.
Fu Ling might have inherited his father’s handsome looks, but everything else — the recklessness, the arrogance, the laziness — came from her. He was spoiled, sentimental, and far too protective of his mother.
Perfect.
She reached for her phone with trembling hands, sitting down on the couch and steadying her voice before dialing. It rang twice before a drowsy male voice answered, groggy and annoyed.
"Mom? It’s late—"
But before he could even finish, she let out a soft sob.
"My son... my poor son..." she cried, her tone trembling like fragile glass. "Something terrible has happened to Mommy... and you haven’t even come to see me!"
Her voice cracked perfectly — a performance honed over years of emotional manipulation.
There was a startled pause on the other end. Then Fu Ling’s voice sharpened.
"What? What do you mean, Mom? What happened?!"
She sniffled pitifully. "Your brother... he’s taken everything from me. He’s turned against your mother, your poor, lonely mother. He’s blaming me for things I didn’t do. He’s ruining me, Ling’er. He’s ruining us!"
The sound of her weeping echoed softly through the empty halls, perfectly calculated to pierce into her son’s heart.
Fu Ling’s tone changed immediately — from irritation to panic.
"What?! What are you talking about? Did he hurt you? Tell me what happened, Mom. I’ll come right now!"
Her lips twitched, but she quickly masked it with another sob.
"I... I don’t know what to do anymore. I feel so scared, Ling’er. Your brother is... not the same person anymore. He’s—he’s dangerous."
That was all it took.
"I’m coming right now," Fu Ling said firmly, and the line went dead.
Fu Lianhua lowered the phone slowly, the pitiful mask on her face slipping away. Her lips curved into a cold, sinister smile.
The transformation was startling — from a helpless mother to a calculating manipulator within seconds. The tears on her cheeks were still glistening, but her eyes were void of any softness. Instead, they gleamed with something twisted and cruel.
There was no remorse in her.
Only venom.
She leaned back on the couch, her smile widening as she murmured, "My dear son... you will finally do something useful."
The sound of the clock ticking filled the silence.
Her gaze drifted towards the window, where faint city lights glimmered in the distance. "Fu Jing Rong," she whispered, her tone icy. "You took my husband. Let’s see how you handle your own brother."
Barely fifteen minutes later, the stillness of the night was broken by a distant, thunderous roar.
The hum of an engine.
Loud, sharp, and arrogant.
She rose from her seat and walked slowly toward the window.
Outside the gate, a bright red Ferrari SF90 Stradale screeched to a halt, the headlights slicing through the dark like two blazing eyes. The engine purred menacingly before dying down with a low growl.
Even from the window, the car looked out of place — too new, too flashy against the faded grandeur of the villa.
Moments later, the heavy wooden doors slammed open, and Fu Ling appeared in the doorway.
Tall, lean, and strikingly handsome, he still had that wild energy of someone who had never been denied anything in life. His white shirt was half-unbuttoned, a designer jacket hanging carelessly off one shoulder. The scent of expensive cologne mixed with the faint trace of alcohol as he strode in.
"Mom!" he called out urgently, his tone sharp with worry. "Mom, what happened?"
Fu Lianhua turned around slowly, her expression already back to one of frail helplessness.
She reached out a trembling hand. "Ling’er... you came."
Seeing her disheveled state, Fu Ling’s face hardened. He hurried forward, grabbing her shoulders gently. "What happened to you? Who did this? Did someone come here?"
She lowered her gaze, her voice trembling. "Your brother... it’s all your brother. He’s turned against his own family. He’s... he’s taken your father away from me."
Fu Ling’s grip on her tightened. "He what?"
