Chapter 15: Would he agree to die?

“Fu Bo, home.”

Yao Xinxin settled into the car and instructed the butler-driver.

“Yes, Miss.”

Fu Bo acknowledged, his trembling white-mustached nose twitching.

Blood scent on the miss.

Through the rearview, he glanced at Yao Xinxin giggling at her phone in the back—frowning.

“Miss, you… hurt yourself again?”

She hadn’t for over a year—why today?

“Fu Bo, drive.”

Yao Xinxin’s smile vanished. Icy tone clashed with sweet voice—weird extremes.

“Miss, because of Song Yao? If she upset you, I’ll handle it.”

“Deaf?”

Chilling murder in her eyes. “If baby’s unhappy, it’s my fault. Meddle more—roll back to Beijing.”

“Understood, Miss.”

Fu Bo nodded, started the car—but watched her every move.

No extremes—he exhaled.

Upsetting her? No knife on him—but on herself?

Not new. He remembered first meeting: harmless girl suddenly slashing her wrist.

Master sent him to Rongcheng to care for her. If she offed herself—how to face trusting master?

Never defied since.

“Fu Bo, get my baby’s three roommates out of her dorm now. No one bullies her!”

“Miss, no contacts at Rongcheng University. Possible, but tomorrow earliest.”

Fu Bo explained patiently—met cold stare.

“Can’t? I’ll get that old fart.”

Master invoked—Fu Bo relented. “I’ll try.”

Yao Xinxin back to phone.

Fu Bo sighed—mixed feelings. Real-life contact: blessing or curse?

Investigated Song Yao early—rented girlfriend.

Disapproved deep down.

Clean background? Or poor: orphan, raised by kind rural elder.

Now ill—costly.

Song Yao’s story sympathetic—but might do anything for money.

Online chats fine—offline, Yao Xinxin flaunting wealth? Risky ideas for Song Yao.

But Yao Xinxin too deep—mention Song Yao? Explosion.

If Song Yao professional, no schemes—fine.

Possible?

Money-based. Buys temporary care—not lifetime.

If Song Yao quits or retires? Yao Xinxin, entrenched?

Year-plus: eerily calm.

But calm? Magma under volcano—erupts when Song Yao leaves.

Others? Cry it out.

Yao Xinxin? Destructive.

Can’t reason with her—target Song Yao.

But rushed? Stimulate her.

“Miss, Master asks return plans. Anything—he agrees.”

Mood stabilized—business.

Yao Xinxin’s eyes glued to screen.

“Die—he agree?”

Cold: “Wife, son crash-dead. Himself eunuch—now remembers me?”

“Miss, he regrets—30% company shares, loss-making Rongcheng branch for you.”

Sincere, to Fu Bo.

Yao Xinxin scoffed: “Take back. Don’t want.”

“But Miss, he really…”

“Not Yao miss. Mistress’s child—abandoned, died on table, premature me!”

Silenced Fu Bo.

Master’s sin.

Money can’t mend near-shattered soul.

Thus Song Yao’s warmth addicted her.

“No more him—or roll back.”

“Understood.”

Fu Bo nodded, drove silent.

Yao Xinxin scrolled Song Yao photos—doll-like face smiled again.

Meanwhile, Song Yao rushed to dorm.

Didn’t want involvement—but too much money.

Two-plus years: Yao Xinxin top spender.

Xia Mengrou, Chen Siyu VIP—Yao Xinxin SVIP. Must prioritize.

Duty: solve client woes.

Zhang Min tough—but for 150,000 today, kneel if needed—no police trouble for Yao Xinxin.

Door open—reality slapped.

Zhang Min, two lackeys: gone.

Hiss…

Police already?