Chapter 338: He blames me for everything
Tears welled up in her eyes again as she whispered, "He blames me for everything that’s happened to your father. He’s making me out to be a villain, Ling’er. I don’t even know what to do anymore..."
Her sobs broke through her words, and Fu Ling’s jaw clenched.
He could feel his blood boiling.
"Mom, don’t cry," he said through gritted teeth. "I’ll take care of it. I’ll make sure he pays for this."
Fu Lianhua looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with false innocence. "Ling’er..." she whispered, "you mustn’t fight with your brother. He’s powerful now, and dangerous."
The words, though soft, were laced with poison — baiting, manipulating, feeding the fire she had lit inside him.
Fu Ling straightened, his face hardening into a cold mask. "No, Mom. If he wants to fight, then I’ll show him that he’s not the only Fu left in this family."
Fu Lianhua’s lips curved ever so slightly, though she quickly masked it with another sob, leaning against him as though she were weak.
"Be careful, my son," she murmured.
But her eyes glimmered with dark satisfaction.
...
The air in the old Fu villa was thick and suffocating even after Fu Ling left. Fu Lianhua stood by the window, her trembling hands clutching the edge of the curtain as she watched her son’s red Ferrari disappear down the road.
The powerful roar of the engine echoed like a battle cry, fading into the distance as a cruel smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
She knew exactly what she had done. Her son’s heart was soft, easily swayed when it came to her—his beloved mother. And she had used that tenderness like a weapon.
Fu Lianhua’s reflection on the glass looked ghostly pale. The years of scheming had finally caught up with her; the faint lines at the corners of her mouth seemed deeper now, and the glow that once set her apart as a noble lady had been replaced by something colder, darker.
The whites of her eyes carried streaks of red from exhaustion and paranoia. For a brief moment, she pressed her forehead against the cool glass and whispered, "It’s all for you, my son... all for you."
Outside, the red Ferrari tore down the street like a streak of flame.
Fu Ling’s face was a storm. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
Every muscle in his jaw twitched with restrained fury. His normally calm, mischievous eyes were burning now—alive with rage, disbelief, and a pain he couldn’t quite define.
He had always loved his brother, Fu Jingrong, respected him even. To him, Jingrong had always been the perfect elder brother—strong, disciplined, the one who carried the weight of the entire Fu Group on his shoulders without ever complaining.
But now? Now his own mother was sobbing in the villa, crying that Fu Jingrong had humiliated her, that he had turned the family against her, that he had left her to suffer alone.
"Damn it!" Fu Ling slammed his fist against the steering wheel. The sharp honk of the horn startled a passing pedestrian, but Fu Ling didn’t even notice.
His head was a mess of thoughts—his mother’s trembling voice on the phone, the stories she told, and those cold, piercing eyes of his brother that he remembered from the last time they met.
Was Fu Jingrong really capable of doing something like that?
The thought tore at him.
Traffic lights meant nothing to him that morning. He sped through intersections, the red Ferrari cutting dangerously close to other cars. Drivers cursed as he flew past, but he didn’t hear a single word. His entire mind was fixed on one thing—the Fu Group headquarters.
The massive glass tower soon came into view. It stood tall and commanding, a symbol of power and legacy—the empire his grandfather had built, and his brother now ruled.
Fu Ling parked with a screech, the tires leaving a long black mark across the pavement. The engine roared once more before he shut it off, and for a moment, the world fell silent around him.
Heads turned. Employees standing near the entrance froze. They knew the car, and they knew its owner. The youngest master of the Fu family was rarely seen at the company, but when he appeared—especially with that expression—something was bound to happen.
Fu Ling stepped out of the car, slamming the door so hard that the sound echoed across the courtyard. His tall frame and sharp features made him an arresting sight; the veins at the side of his neck pulsed as he clenched his jaw. His once warm, boyish charm was replaced by something feral and intimidating.
The security guards exchanged uneasy glances, whispering to one another.
"Isn’t that Young Master Fu Ling?"
"What’s wrong with him? He looks furious."
"Maybe something happened at home again..."
Fu Ling ignored them. He adjusted his suit jacket, took a deep breath, and began walking towards the revolving doors of the Fu Group building. Each step he took echoed with authority, though he had never once held an official position inside. The receptionist nearly dropped her pen when she saw him enter, and a few employees in the lobby quickly ducked their heads, pretending to be busy.
On the top floor, the shareholders’ meeting was already in progress.
Inside the grand boardroom, the atmosphere was tense yet orderly. Fu Jingrong sat at the head of the long mahogany table, expression unreadable as he flipped through a document. His dark suit was perfectly pressed, his every movement calm and deliberate. Around him sat a dozen shareholders, murmuring quietly as slides flashed on the projector.
Just then—
BANG!
The doors burst open.
Everyone turned.
Fu Ling stood there, chest heaving, eyes blazing. His sudden appearance brought the entire meeting to a halt.
"Fu Ling?" One of the directors blinked in shock. "What’s going on?"
Fu Jingrong raised his head slowly, his sharp gaze falling upon his younger brother. His expression did not change; he merely placed the document he was holding onto the table and leaned back in his chair, silent.
"Brother," Fu Ling spat the word as if it were venom. "What did you do to Mother?"
