In the dead of night, there was no crescent moon in the gloomy twilight.
An endless darkness swept in, and the bleak, cold wind seemed to penetrate right through one's internal organs.
This is an abandoned factory building. It is very large, with no windows, only an iron gate, and is dark and cramped.
Fu Tingshen cowered, pinned to the ground in a pathetic state, unable to move. He angrily yelled at the man opposite him who was lighting a cigarette, "You madman, you lunatic! Have you forgotten who you are?! I'm your uncle, you dare to touch me!"
The man held a cigarette between his fingers, slowly exhaling a hazy cloud of smoke.
He flicked off the ash from his cigarette, stood in front of him, lowered his eyes, and fiddled with something in his hand. His eyes were sinister and wicked, concealing boundless ruthlessness and chilling coldness.
As if looking at an inanimate object, "Uncle."
The man chuckled.
Then he spoke slowly, "Didn't I tell you not to touch Song Qingyou? Hmm?"
He frowned, seemingly puzzled: "Why do you have to pay a price to obey?"
Fu Wenzhou's eyes were like those of a demon who had just crawled out of hell, terrifying beyond measure! Fu Tingshen kept trying to crawl backward, but he was being supported, so his efforts were in vain: "Wen... Wenzhou, we are family. Song Qingyou is dead, so be it. She was just a woman. Your uncle will find you someone who looks like her, okay?"
Fu Wenzhou suddenly laughed, his voice low and husky: "Uncle, Song Qingyou is Song Qingyou, no one can replace her."
Fu Tingshen felt that the person in front of him had completely gone mad. "Fu Wenzhou, what kind of bewitching potion did Song Qingyou give you? A woman who seduces her husband's nephew while still married is a slut. I think she... Ah!"
Fu Tingshen was punched in the face by Fu Wenzhou's bodyguard, and he spat out a mouthful of blood and foam, and even lost a front tooth.
"You and Song Qingyou are truly a match made in heaven, you two..."
The cold, hard muzzle of the gun pressed against his forehead. Fu Tingshen swallowed the rest of his words, his body trembling involuntarily. His voice rose: "Fu Wenzhou, you...you dare! This is illegal! You're committing a crime!"
Fu Wenzhou looked down at him as if he were a maggot in a gutter.
Time seemed to stand still as Fu Wenzhou slowly pulled the trigger.
This action was like a slow, agonizing torture for Fu Tingshen. He screamed and collapsed to the ground, like a dead dog, and even lost control of his bladder.
Fu Tingshen was panting, and dared not look up at those eyes again.
Fu Wenzhou slowly withdrew his hand, "Wouldn't it be too easy for you to just die?"
Fu Tingshen felt a sense of dread that made his blood freeze. He tried to speak, but no sound came out of his throat.
Fu Wenzhou squatted down, a slow smile curving his lips: "Don't you like being sarcastic?"
A strong sense of unease and panic welled up inside Fu Tingshen. "What do you want to do? You madman, what are you going to do to me?!"
Fu Wenzhou stood up and coldly ordered, "Pull out his tongue."
Fu Tingshen suddenly struggled violently, his eyes filled with fear: "Fu Wenzhou, are you crazy! You dare, you dare!!"
Fu Wenzhou took a drag of his cigarette, stood aside, and watched coldly.
Fu Tingshen's fierce screams filled his ears, but he looked at him as if he were a dead fish.
After Fu Tingshen fainted, someone picked up the severed organ from the ground and asked, "Young Master Fu, what's the next step?"
Fu Wenzhou said, "Send the person to Prison No. 12."
Prison No. 12 is the most chaotic prison in the capital, filled with the most vicious and desperate criminals. What wouldn't a desperate criminal do? Fu Tingshen's future is likely...
The man sighed inwardly, thinking, "Truly ruthless Little CEO Fu."
Fu Tingshen's dignity as a straight man is probably in jeopardy.
But he deserved it.
Fu Tingshen is not a person worthy of pity.
"What about the woman in the car?" the subordinate asked cautiously.
A gust of wind blew, stirring up a few fallen leaves on the ground. Fu Wenzhou's voice was deep and cold: "Isn't she the type to take over other people's jobs and serve them? Send her to a mental hospital to work as a cleaner. Have someone keep an eye on her and make sure she never comes out."
"Yes, Mr. Fu."
Fu Wenzhou stubbed out his cigarette with one hand. The gust of wind whipped his face, icy cold, but he walked forward obliviously, his expression remaining indifferent.
The bodyguards behind him wanted to remind him that this was a desolate mountain and that they would lose their way if they went any further, but they didn't dare to. They could only watch as that figure disappeared into the night.
It wasn't until Song Chang came looking for him that he regained some of his senses from his zombie-like state.
"Uncle Chang?" Fu Wenzhou asked in a hoarse voice, his vocal cords dry.
Song Chang hurriedly came over and draped a down jacket over him. "Where's Fu Tingshen? You didn't do anything, did you? Have you forgotten that Miss told you not to get your hands on blood?"
"I haven't forgotten." Fu Wenzhou smiled like a child, but his eyes were red. "Youyou doesn't like people who break their promises. I will definitely do what I promised her."
Song Chang thought of Song Qingyou lying in the hospital bed and felt a pang of pain in her heart. Seeing Fu Wenzhou's appearance, she sighed and said, "Let's go back."
Fu Wenzhou pushed Song Chang's hand away: "You should go back first. I heard there is a sacred mountain here. If you find it, the wishes made by people will come true. I'll look for it some more."
Song Chang was taken aback. The young lady was currently unconscious, and the doctors were helpless. All they could do was pray to the gods and Buddhas.
He gritted his teeth and said, "I'll search with you."
Fu Wenzhou coughed from the cold wind and waved his hand, saying, "You should go back and keep Youyou company."
Miss really needs someone, so Song Chang could only say, "Then you should be careful here in this desolate mountain by yourself."
"Um."
Fu Wenzhou agreed.
After Song Chang returned, it started snowing, and overnight, the sky was covered in white snow.
Fu Wenzhou returned the following night.
When he returned, he was pale, covered in wounds, his expensive clothes were stained with bright red, and his hair and eyelashes were covered in frost.
Song Chang almost thought he was looking at an ice sculpture; he could even see the cold air emanating from Fu Wenzhou.
Startled, Song Chang hurriedly pulled him to the bathroom in the ward: "Mr. Fu, you should take a hot shower right away. Your body is all cold. It would be bad if you got hypothermia."
Fu Wenzhou excitedly grabbed Song Chang's arm: "Uncle Chang, I found that temple! I prayed to Buddha, and Youyou is alright, she's alright..."
Before he could finish speaking, the man's tall body collapsed to the ground, a result of hypothermia and exhaustion.
Song Chang quickly called the doctor. Despite it being the dead of winter, Song Chang was sweating. Fortunately, there was already a bed set up in the ward, so it was convenient for him to take care of two people by himself.
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