When Fu Siming landed, Pei Jing was already waiting at the airport. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that there was no one else following behind him.
Inside the car, Pei Jing reported to him on the events of the past few days, which could only be described as utterly out of control. When he mentioned the old man fainting, he looked up.
"The old man is in the First Hospital and has already woken up and is in good condition."
He felt a little relieved and asked, "Where is she?"
Pei Jing paused for a moment before realizing he was asking about Song Xingyao. "Madam said that Madam needs some personal space, so she's still staying on the top floor of Lingyun. But when I went to ask, the receptionist said she had already left and they don't know where she is now..."
His face darkened instantly. He closed his eyes. In fact, he had thought of many places, but Song Xingyao didn't have that many places to go in Jiangcheng.
He said to the driver, "To Haiyan."
She would definitely be there, Fu Siming thought.
The complicated matters and the face of Song Xingyao kept swirling in his mind, and his exhaustion was hard to hide.
The car drove all the way to Haiyan, and only Pei Jing's voice could be heard in the car. Fu Siming did not interrupt him. After listening to the report, before getting out of the car, he told Pei Jing to go back and deal with the person who released the news first, and that he would return to Tiansheng later.
Upon entering, he saw bright light shining through the glass windows of the garden into the living room. He pushed open the door with some delight, only to find a cleaning lady who regularly came to clean the house.
The aunt has come four or five times this month, and each time no one was home. Fu Siming's appearance startled her so much that she dropped the mop on the ground with a clear, piercing sound.
Fu Siming suddenly felt his heart sink. The aunt respectfully said, "Sir."
Fu Siming ignored her and went straight upstairs, but it was very quiet upstairs, with only the dampness from the recent cleaning and the soft sound of the dehumidifier. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
He pushed open the door to the room, but no one was there. The woman who used to love sitting on the bay window was now completely empty, and the soft blanket was perfectly smooth.
He went into the walk-in closet and saw that it was full of things, and the clothes hanging there seemed to be just as many. He felt relieved and thought: She probably just went out.
Fu Siming was about to go to the study to wait for her to return when he entered the room and saw the neatly arranged items on the table. It felt as if he had been pricked by a needle, causing him immense pain in an instant.
He approached and saw the bank cards, ring, two marriage certificates, and a note she was pressing down on the table.
There was not a single word on the note, only a few numbers. He picked it up and looked at it over and over, but he still didn't get any information.
His slender fingers landed on the two marriage certificates. He remembered the woman's slightly upturned lips in the photo, and how he cherished the day he received the marriage certificate.
He gave a mocking smirk. This woman had really gone that easily. He'd been thinking of coming back to explain, but she hadn't even waited for him.
For the first time, Fu Siming felt somewhat ridiculous, experiencing a moment of frustration, but only for a second.
Leaning back in his office chair, his fingers deftly twirling the bank card, he thought: Song Xingyao, this isn't a place you can just walk away from.
He took out his phone and dialed the familiar number first. The call went through, but no one answered, so he dialed Pei Jing instead.
Pei Jing hadn't even arrived in Tiansheng yet when he received the call. The voice on the other end of the line was somewhat cold: "Find out where Song Xingyao is."
After saying that, he hung up the phone.
Meanwhile, Song Xingyao had no idea that Fu Siming had returned to the country. He was looking at houses with a real estate agent, and his phone was on silent in his pocket.
After visiting many apartments, Song Xingyao finally found one that caught her eye. It was a small 50-square-meter one-bedroom apartment with a spacious balcony that let the living room be filled with sunlight.
The homeowner was a student eager to go abroad. He wasn't short of money and just wanted someone who would cherish the house and take good care of it, so he didn't ask for a high price. Song Xingyao immediately agreed to the offer.
The agent saw that Song Xingyao was a gentle person and patiently introduced the company to her. He was surprised by how efficient she was and developed a good impression of her. He said eagerly, "We can sign the contract now. I'll send it to your phone. An electronic signature will do."
Unfortunately, the phone only stayed lit for a short while before the screen immediately went off and the phone shut down.
Song Xingyao was a little embarrassed: "Do you have my contact information? We can contact each other online. You can just send it to me. My phone is out of battery right now."
After leaving the house, Song Xingyao walked back to the hotel. The hotel was not far from where she had viewed the house. As she approached the hotel entrance, she saw a ostentatious Rolls-Royce parked there, attracting the attention of passersby.
The hotel Song Xingyao chose was an ordinary chain hotel, not a high-end star-rated hotel. Naturally, such an eye-catching car and license plate parked there would attract attention.
From a distance, she saw Fu Siming leaning against the car door, a cigarette between his fingers. He had a tall, slender figure and sharp features, but the chilling aura emanating from him made no one dare to approach him.
Song Xingyao stopped in her tracks, a hint of unease flickering in her calm eyes. This spirited man, even on a street like this, exuded confidence and brilliance. But she was even more afraid that another woman would step out of the car the next second.
Fortunately, that didn't happen. When Song Xingyao approached him, the man saw her too. The two got closer and closer, but Fu Siming didn't move forward. He just stood there, staring at her without moving.
This time, Song Xingyao didn't wait for him to speak, "Go upstairs and talk about it. If you keep acting like this, other people won't be able to do any business."
There was no emotion in her words. He had even imagined that she would yell at him angrily, punch and kick him, but she did not. She was as polite as a friend who had not seen each other for a long time.
Fu Siming tossed the car keys to the receptionist, told her to have someone park the car, and then followed Song Xingyao upstairs.
There wasn't a single suitcase in the room, only a bag on the sofa. He frowned as he looked at the small room, which only had a narrow passageway. Besides the bed, there was also such a large sofa that completely squeezed out the occupant's movement space.
He didn't sit down. The sofa cover was illuminated by the warm yellow light in the room, and dust was flying in the air, creating a suffocating feeling.
Song Xingyao didn't force him. She sat on the sofa and looked at him. The small space was quiet for a while before the two of them spoke at the same time.
“I can explain.”
Let's get a divorce!
Their voices overlapped, neither of them seeming to have expected the other to say that. Fu Siming was the first to react, rejecting her words without thinking.
"no!"
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