Chapter 25: A Splendid Catching Leap

"Oh my, Shiyong, where did this beggar come from? She reeks so much—could she be carrying some kind of contagious disease?"

Yu Yue acted as if she had seen a monster. Between her exclamations, she dove into the arms of Fu Shiyong, whose expression remained steady and unreadable.

Yu Zao clenched her fists. She had bumped into a trash can while coming down the stairs earlier, and the cold sweat she had broken into only added to the indescribable stench. There were even a few flies buzzing around her head.

"I'm sorry, I..." She did not want to cause a scene; she just wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

But Yu Yue, as if suddenly noticing something, lunged forward. A second later, tears streamed down her face. "My goodness! Sister? How could it be you? How did you end up like this? Is the heavens punishing you for all the evil things you've done?"

She shouted every syllable as if she were tearing her own throat apart. Curious onlookers, drawn by the commotion, gathered around. They pointed fingers and hurled insults.

"Is that the money-grubbing bitch who abandoned her husband and child? The one who tried to burn her own sister to death just to climb the social ladder again?"

"That's her! A piece of human trash like that deserves to be struck down by lightning."

"Heh, look at the sister—gentle and kind, the very picture of virtue. I heard the older sister's mother was a fickle slut too!"

Insults, slander, personal attacks. Yu Zao could endure being smeared herself, but she would never allow her mother’s soul to be denied peace. Without a second thought, she straightened her back and swung her hand, slapping the primary slanderer directly across the face.

Silence descended upon the air.

Yu Yue, stunned, clutched her burning cheek, her eyes wide with fury. She hissed, "Yu Zao, how dare you..."

*Slap! Slap! Slap!*

Three consecutive strikes.

Blood trickled from the corners of Yu Yue's mouth; she looked truly wretched. Yu Zao, whose apricot-shaped eyes had lost their spark over the past three years, swept a gaze over her sister as if looking at a dead object.

"I set a fire? I tried to kill someone?"

"Yes, you are a deranged, vicious madwoman. Sister, you really should be careful."

"Careful of me..." Her cold, clear voice cut off abruptly. She stepped forward and leaned in, her damp, hot breath washing over the stiff body of the future Mrs. Fu. "I might just pay a visit to your home in the middle of the night and drag you down to hell with me!"

With that, she turned and left.

Terrified, Yu Yue buried herself in Fu Shiyong’s chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Yet, until that frail, stubborn figure vanished into the crowd, his gaze followed her, entirely beyond his own control.

"Shiyong, you promised me that from now on, you would only love me and only treat me well."

"Sister bullied me just now, aren't you going to do anything about it?"

Her face, as ordinary as they come, looked pitifully beautiful as she wept. If one looked closely, however, Yu Zao and Yu Yue’s eyes were strikingly similar.

"Tell the people at the Senior College: problematic teachers are better suited for positions that match their character."

When she returned to work the next day after her leave, the department head ordered Yu Zao to clean the restrooms as a janitor. The woman added with a malicious, "kind" sneer, "Yu Zao, one’s value lies in self-awareness. You were blind and failed to see who the true diamond in the rough was. Now that you regret it, it’s too late. After all, would a heaven-sent talent like Chairman Fu really wait for you forever?"

The filthiest restroom was assigned to her. The janitorial staff, as if bribed by someone, harassed her all day long. They made her scrub the toilet seats by hand. When the toilet clogged and there were no tools, they forced her to reach in and clear it herself. Even when a student fell ill and vomited across the classroom, the head janitor pushed Yu Zao to handle it alone, denying her gloves and demanding she clean it until it was spotless.

In the empty classroom, Yu Zao crouched on the floor, looking disheveled. The vomit reeked. Using paper towels as a barrier, she fought back the waves of nausea rising in her throat.

Suddenly, someone turned on the wall-mounted LCD television. It was a talk show featuring wealthy couples, currently in the middle of a game segment. The host requested the husbands to kneel and wash their wives' or fiancées' feet, followed by a kiss on the instep. The other corporate titans invited refused, except for the cold and noble Fu Shiyong.

He calmly removed his suit jacket, rolled up his sleeves, knelt on one knee, and washed the feet of Yu Yue, who was dressed in a new-style *qipao*. Finally, he kissed her feet.

Thunderous applause erupted from the audience.

The host looked shocked and envious. "Ms. Yu, to find a husband like this—unprecedented and peerless—you must have accumulated immense merit over three lifetimes."

"It's alright, I suppose. Actually, when Shiyong and I are at home, he doesn't..."

"I've done this for years; I'm used to it." The man stared intently into his fiancée's eyes, yet he seemed to be trying to look through them to see someone else—someone who was delicate and loved to act spoiled, who could easily wrap her husband around her finger, and who would weep loudly at the slightest grievance.

But that woman, to save money for her husband’s startup, would endure illness without complaining, refusing to buy fever medication.

"Haha, it seems Mr. Fu and Ms. Yu still need to work on their chemistry!" The host laughed awkwardly to smooth things over.

Yu Yue was nearing a boiling point, but facing the cameras, she could only smile and whisper a reminder. "Shiyong, it’s me. Why did you mistake me for my sister again?"

It had been three years; he always did this!

Fu Shiyong snapped out of his trance. Feeling a pang of guilt, he gently pulled her into his arms and coaxed her softly. "Alright, don't be angry. As compensation, I’ll wash your feet every night when I get home, how about that?"

The display of affection continued on the screen. Yu Yue pouted haughtily and asked, "What else?"

The classroom door was suddenly kicked open by a group of thugs. They waved metal baseball bats. The leader, a cigarette dangling from his lips, sneered, "Are you... Yu Zao? You’re a pretty little thing, but your temper is too wild. You offended a big shot—you deserve a lesson!"

The door was locked.

Blow after blow rained down. The sound of bones fracturing, skin scraping against metal, and the scent of copper-tinged blood filled the air.

The show continued. The man tenderly smoothed a stray lock of hair behind his beloved's ear. A mosquito flew by, and he swatted it instantly, laughing, "My little Fish is the most delicate; if you were bitten, it would break my heart."

"Shiyong, you're annoying, I'm not that delicate~"

*Bang! Bang! Bang!*

Accompanying Yu Yue’s coquettish tone, the final blows struck her head, leaving her a bloody mess. The frail, thin body, in a desperate attempt to protect itself, curled tightly atop the pile of vomit.

Her ears buzzed.

From somewhere far away, the pleasant, wry voice of a young man drifted into her mind. "Wife, can you be any more spoiled? You were just bitten by a mosquito—how long are you going to cry?"

So, she too had once relied on a man without reservation.

"Alright, alright, don't be angry. Our little Fish has the most delicate skin; let Husband blow on it and it won't itch anymore."

So, that man had once loved her with his whole heart, with his entire life, and with his whole world.

"From now on, as long as your husband is here, I will keep you unharmed. Not even a single mosquito is allowed to bully my precious baby."

So, Fu Shiyong, losing you... I really am in so much pain...

In the final second before she lost consciousness, the thug leader tossed a faded, old "sapphire" cufflink onto the ground.