When she reached the second floor, the door to the study suddenly shut, leaving her isolated outside.
Just then, the sound of rhythmic "click-clack" high heels echoed from the staircase.
Soft, flowing shoulder-length hair framed her face. The high-collared, asymmetrical cheongsam sculpted her graceful figure. Though she appeared to be in her thirties, her skin showed signs of aging. Yet her striking presence and refined beauty compensated for the rest.
As the two met face-to-face, both froze in place.
After a moment, the woman gently inquired, "Are you the wife Yihan just married?"
"Yes." Su Qingnuan lowered her gaze and answered cautiously.
"Did something unpleasant happen between you two? I could hear the brothers arguing from upstairs."
The woman's starry eyes rested on her helplessly, as if certain Su Qingnuan would explain, her tone full of concern.
"Oh, don't misunderstand. Yixing is my son. If he's done something wrong, just tell me directly."
Su Qingnuan's brows furrowed slightly. So she was Fu Yixing's mother? The Fu lady who had delivered her the dress earlier in the day must have been referring to this woman.
Behind the door of the study, the air was heavy with smoke, the bitter scent of cigars lingering throughout the room.
The Fu patriarch sat elevated, a cigar in hand that hadn't been extinguished since Fu Yihan entered the room.
His sharp gaze swept over his grandson, seated rigidly in a wheelchair, carrying an unspoken trace of pain. Unable to bear looking directly, he turned away and sighed to himself.
After a long silence, he finally spoke regretfully.
"I told you to marry, but you stormed into the Su family's home and snatched their daughter. What do you think you're doing?"
"I took her because I wanted to. Isn't this exactly what you had in mind?"
Fu Yihan flipped through the pages of *Economic Discourse* carelessly, the crisp rustling of paper echoing in the room.
The flames of his anger, briefly suppressed, began to flare up again. The Fu patriarch coughed heavily, choking on the smoke caught in his throat.
Even so, Fu Yihan didn't spare him a glance.
Recalling the obedient child who had once been so dutiful, and comparing that image to the man before him now, the Fu patriarch's hand trembled as he held his cigar.
"You're growing older. How could I not concern myself with your marriage? That's why I had someone calculate the compatibility. They said the young Miss Su was a perfect match for you, which led to this arrangement. If you disagree..." He flicked the ash from his cigar and sighed deeply, unable to finish his sentence.
Fu Yihan's back stiffened slightly. He had guessed what his grandfather's next words would be, but his lips curled into a mocking sneer.
The cold indifference and formidable pride of the Fu family were traits etched deeply into their very bones.
The Fu patriarch stared intently at his grandson's rigid back. Moments later, he flung two appointment documents onto the desk.
Yet, the difference lay in the details: one bore Fu Yihan's name as CEO, the other Fu Yixing's.
"Think carefully about what you want to choose."
Only then did Fu Yihan finally turn his face. As he read the names on the documents, his gaze locked onto his grandfather's foggy stare with icy precision.
A mocking smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he ignored the patriarch's trembling hand clutching his chest and reached directly for the document bearing his own name.
"Ever since my mother died in a car accident, this place has had nothing to do with me."
Taking the document came with a decision: one that handed over the immense Fu Group to Fu Yixing willingly.
Feeling the mounting pressure in his chest, the Fu patriarch closed his eyes tightly, pointing angrily toward the door.
"Then get out of here right now."
Fu Yihan maneuvered his wheelchair and slammed the door behind him as he left.
The deafening noise startled Su Qingnuan, who was seated by the doorway.
She hadn't expected such an intense argument inside. Under Yun Meifeng's scrutinizing gaze, she instinctively leaned down to steady the wheelchair, gently offering, "Let me help you downstairs."
Noticing this scene, Yun Meifeng's face darkened.
She hadn't anticipated the supposedly foolish Miss Su from the rumors to be so attentive.
Suppressing her thoughts, Yun Meifeng stepped forward to exchange pleasantries.
"Yihan, how's your health lately?"
Fu Yihan acted as though he hadn't heard her, his fingers pressing lightly against his eyelids, seemingly resting his eyes.
Yun Meifeng's polite smile stiffened on her face as her hands unconsciously clenched tighter.
"Mom! Why are you bothering with him?"
Fu Yixing quickened his steps, pulling Yun Meifeng protectively behind him, his expression hovering between disdain and amusement. "Mom's showing concern for you. What's big brother's problem?"
Upon hearing Fu Yixing speak, Fu Yihan slowly opened his eyes, his fingers tapping coldly against the armrest of the wheelchair as he responded: "The matron of the Fu family is surnamed Lin. Since when did it change to Yun?"
He wasn't wrong. The Fu patriarch had only briefly registered Yun Meifeng as his wife at the time of Fu Yixing's birth to grant his second son a legitimate status. But the marriage ended merely a month later.
Yun Meifeng's current awkward position in the Fu family's main residence was one tolerated solely on account of her giving birth to a son.
With these words, everyone's expressions shifted visibly, especially Yun Meifeng's polite smile, which seemed to collapse like a fragile bubble.