Chapter 59: Wen’s Quiet Confidence

Or perhaps, in Zhao Fuhe’s eyes, Wen Zhixia… was never meant to exist.

Wen Zhixia lifted her elegantly shaped brows, absently twisting the ring on her finger. Her thoughts wandered back to the hospital, to Zhao Fuhe’s words: “I want to try on your wedding ring. I think it’ll suit me perfectly. In the future… if I need to, I can easily pick one that’s nearly identical.”

Now, taking in Zhao Fuhe’s attire for the evening, and the barely concealed whispers of the guests, Wen Zhixia felt a chill settle in her chest—but at the same time, she was almost amused.

For someone like her, to react as violently as Qian Hongdan had in that hotel, dragging the mistress by the hair and beating her—such a scene was simply impossible.

Wen Zhixia glanced at Gu Pingsheng. His cool, deep eyes moved away from Zhao Fuhe and landed on her. “Xiaxia, I—”

Under his gaze, Wen Zhixia slowly removed the wedding ring from her finger.

In an instant, Gu Pingsheng’s expression changed drastically. His large hand gripped hers tightly. “What are you doing?”

She held his long, narrow gaze for a moment, then her lips curved in a faint, icy smile. “Why are you so nervous? I just remembered that your little junior wanted to try on my ring. She followed us all the way here today; I couldn’t very well refuse again.”

“Is a wedding ring something anyone can wear?” Gu Pingsheng’s voice was low and heavy as he looked at her.

Wen Zhixia lifted her brows slightly, her tone laced with a cold indifference. She didn’t bother to mask her emotions. “I thought you didn’t know.”

Could she really ignore Zhao Fuhe’s appearance tonight? Impossible.

Gu Pingsheng’s brows knit together, and his grip on her hand tightened.

But Wen Zhixia calmly pried his fingers from her wrist, one by one. “Since there’s an unexpected guest, you should go keep her company.”

Gu Pingsheng caught her wrist again, leaving her no chance to leave. His gaze turned chilly as he looked at the suddenly appearing Zhao Fuhe. “Take off your clothes.”

His words stunned not only Zhao Fuhe but everyone else who overheard.

“Senior…”

“Secretary Li, take her to change her clothes,” Gu Pingsheng ordered.

Li Yueting set down her wineglass and walked over, glancing at Zhao Fuhe and then at Wen Zhixia before addressing Gu Pingsheng, “Should I have the staff buy a new dress for Miss Zhao to change into?”

At a company celebration, to have a guest change into a newly bought dress simply because the hostess disliked her attire—just for a case of matching outfits—if word got out, it wouldn’t end well for anyone, not Wen Zhixia, not even Gu Xia Group, which would become the talk of the town.

But if Zhao Fuhe were allowed to remain at the celebration, Wen Zhixia’s dignity would be lost as well.

A true dilemma.

“Miss Zhao Fuhe, we meet again.” Zhang Zhiyan emerged from the crowd, raised his glass to Wen Zhixia, then turned with gentlemanly grace to Zhao Fuhe. “You look even more stunning tonight. May I have the honor of this dance?”

Zhang Zhiyan and Gu Pingsheng were half-brothers, different in temperament, but both held a similar allure for women—especially for someone as ambitious as Zhao Fuhe. More importantly, his invitation was the perfect solution to her current predicament.

Zhao Fuhe glanced nervously at Gu Pingsheng, but seeing his gaze fixed elsewhere, she clenched her hands and accepted Zhang Zhiyan’s invitation, placing her hand on his arm.

With a snap of his fingers, Zhang Zhiyan led her to the center of the dance floor.

His steps were elegant, clearly well-practiced, but Zhao Fuhe was not so lucky. She stumbled and stepped on his shoes several times.

She apologized repeatedly, but Zhang Zhiyan, after his initial polite smile, remained expressionless throughout the rest of the dance.

Wen Zhixia, watching from the sidelines, pressed her fingers to her brow, feeling weary. As she prepared to leave, Gu Pingsheng caught her by the waist and led her onto the dance floor.

The music floated through the hall. Wen Zhixia had no desire to dance, but their mutual understanding was unmatched.

He bent slightly, gazing into her clear, alluring eyes. “I didn’t invite her.”

“President Gu, as you say. Miss Zhao already claimed she just happened to come and, by coincidence, wore the same dress.” She smiled—a smile that never reached her eyes.

If it were just an accidental match, it wouldn’t be an issue. But Zhao Fuhe’s hairstyle and makeup tonight were a perfect imitation of Wen Zhixia’s. And her intent was obvious.

Gu Pingsheng’s brows furrowed. “…And what about the wedding ring she wanted to try on?”

Wen Zhixia let out a soft, mocking laugh. “Are you pretending not to know?” She paused, her fingertip pressing against his chest. “You really don’t know how Zhao Fuhe feels about you? Gu Pingsheng, I told you—if there’s another woman, our marriage is over. I won’t tolerate a third party.”

Her voice was cool and sharp as a blade. “If I ever learn you’ve cheated, we’ll divorce.”

Zhao Fuhe’s repeated appearances around her—Wen Zhixia would have to be a fool not to sense something was wrong.

Gu Pingsheng’s eyes grew darker. “Is our marriage, in your mind, something you can end at a whim?”

His words sounded as if she was the one being irresponsible about their relationship.

Wen Zhixia drew a deep breath and looked at him in silence.

“Or perhaps I should ask differently—have you already found someone else?” His gaze shifted to Zhang Zhiyan, who was still dancing with Zhao Fuhe. Sensing the look, Zhang Zhiyan met his eyes, a silent clash across the room.

Wen Zhixia pulled her hand away. “No one can turn the tables on me quite like you, President Gu.”

She turned and left before the dance had even finished.

Left alone at the center of the dance floor, Gu Pingsheng pressed a hand to his temple as he watched the sway of her skirt as she walked away.

Seeing this, Zhang Zhiyan released Zhao Fuhe’s hand and, ever the gentleman, said, “Miss Zhao, you have quite a talent for dancing.”

He didn’t comment on her skill, only her ‘talent’—a polite way of saying there was much room for improvement.

Zhao Fuhe knew well how poorly she’d danced. “I… I rarely dance. I’m sorry for dirtying your shoes.”

Zhang Zhiyan smiled faintly and reached toward her cheek.

Zhao Fuhe blushed, “Mr. Zhang…”

She acted like a shy, innocent girl. If Zhang Zhiyan hadn’t known of her work at Junyue, he might have believed she was naturally demure.

He placed his hand on her head, removed the hair clip she’d used to pin up her hair, and examined it. “There’s something I wanted to say to you the moment I first saw you tonight.”

Feigning innocence, Zhao Fuhe asked, “What is it?”

“Zhixia’s neckline is left elegantly bare, her neck slender and graceful as a swan’s. Yours, Miss Zhao, is much shorter, and your profile lacks her delicacy. To copy her look entirely without considering your own features reminds me of an old tale—a plain girl named Dong Shi imitating the beautiful Xi Shi, making herself a laughingstock.”

Zhao Fuhe’s heart, which had been pounding, sank at his words—Dong Shi imitating Xi Shi.

He placed the hair clip in her palm. “Zhixia’s hair clip is set with rare Queen’s Phoenix Snail pearls—not something you can buy at a boutique. Zhixia’s cool, refined air suits her gown perfectly tonight. Miss Zhao, your style is too gaudy—it just doesn’t work.”

After Zhang Zhiyan left, Zhao Fuhe appeared unfazed, but if one looked closely, her hands trembled at her sides.

Dong Shi aping Xi Shi? Gaudy!

On Wen Zhixia, the look was breathtakingly elegant; on her, it became vulgar? Was it simply because Wen Zhixia was the legitimate Mrs. Gu, while she herself was just a mistress of low status? In the end, Zhang Zhiyan saw her as nothing like them.

If Wen Zhixia was exalted, must she be trampled into the dust?

Rage burned hotter in Zhao Fuhe’s chest. Instinctively, she searched for Gu Pingsheng, but his eyes were fixed in only one direction—

At Wen Zhixia’s departing figure.

Zhao Fuhe clutched the pearl hair clip until it bit painfully into her palm—but she needed that pain to stay clear-headed.

Wen Zhixia went to the restroom. As she washed her hands, she caught sight of her reflection, and her eyes flickered.

“Senior.”

Lost in thought, she was startled by the voice behind her. Zhao Fuhe had appeared, though Wen Zhixia hadn’t noticed her come in.

Wen Zhixia pulled out two paper towels, carefully drying the water from her fingers, and glanced at Zhao Fuhe’s now loose hair. “What is it?”

“Was it you who told Zhang Zhiyan to humiliate me? Otherwise, how could he have come at just the right moment, guessed I couldn’t dance, and invited me to the floor just to embarrass me? Then he provoked me with those remarks, saying I could never compare to you—calling me Dong Shi imitating Xi Shi.”

Wen Zhixia’s expression didn’t change. “If that’s what you think, then so be it.”

Whatever Zhao Fuhe imagined was her own business—nothing to do with Wen Zhixia. She wasn’t a doctor; she didn’t need to treat her paranoia.

“You’re just afraid I’ll take him from you, aren’t you?” Zhao Fuhe said as Wen Zhixia moved to leave.

Wen Zhixia laughed softly. “As you wish.”

If a man could be stolen, what was the point in keeping him?

Her indifference only enraged Zhao Fuhe further. “You think I’m not even worthy to be your rival?!”

Wen Zhixia was almost impressed by her ability to read ten meanings into a single sentence.

She had no intention of explaining, but Zhao Fuhe blocked her path. “Say it clearly.”

Wen Zhixia raised her eyes, her voice icy. “If you want it spelled out—fine. You’re not worthy. Satisfied?”

Zhao Fuhe retorted, “So you finally admit it! You look down on me—you think you’re above me just because you were lucky enough to marry him. What gives you the right to look down on me?!”

“Because… without me, he never would have founded Gu Xia Group so quickly.” Wen Zhixia replied. “And you? You’re just another woman trying to climb higher on a man’s coattails, and not even a pretty one. You lack beauty, a striking figure, or intelligence. Who gave you the nerve to ask if you’re qualified to be my rival?!”

Wen Zhixia’s confidence was earned step by step, through work that left her with a perforated stomach. As she said, Gu Pingsheng would have succeeded without her, but not nearly as quickly. She had halved the time it took him to build his company. Of course she looked down on someone who tried to rise by seducing men.

Her words left Zhao Fuhe speechless. After a moment, she found her voice. “If it had been me, I could have worked with him too! It wasn’t just you!”

Wen Zhixia scoffed, pushed her hand aside, and walked away.

Too many foolish words only reveal one’s stupidity.

“President Wen is as unapproachable as ever,” remarked Wang Haiqiong, who was loitering outside the restroom as Wen Zhixia came out.

“Not as unflappable as you, President Wang,” Wen Zhixia replied coolly.

Wang Haiqiong, who had also clawed her way up by using her body, naturally found Wen Zhixia’s words especially grating.

Wang Haiqiong narrowed her eyes. “Let’s see how long your pride lasts!”

The celebration had not yet ended, but Wen Zhixia was already feeling exhausted. She waved to a server. “Open a room for me—somewhere quiet. I need to rest.”

The server nodded, set down his tray, and left.

“Are you feeling unwell?” Zhang Zhiyan had overheard her request and came over.

“It’s probably just the heels. I haven’t worn them this long in a while,” Wen Zhixia replied.

Zhang Zhiyan nodded.

As Wen Zhixia waited for the server, she recalled Zhao Fuhe’s words in the restroom, and paused. “What did you say to Zhao Fuhe just now?”

Zhang Zhiyan’s lips twitched slightly. “Nothing much… just analyzed her outfit. She failed at imitation—became a caricature.”

Wen Zhixia immediately understood why Zhao Fuhe had been so rattled.

After Wen Zhixia went to rest, Zhang Zhiyan continued mingling. He watched the crowd fawning over Gu Pingsheng, his eyes narrowing.

Unlike Gu Xia Group’s recent string of successes, the Zhang Group was facing difficulties. The old man wanted to repair ties with Gu Pingsheng, but the latter clearly had no interest.

Suddenly, the giant screen displaying Gu Xia Group’s promotional video flickered and was replaced by explicit adult scenes. The dim lighting hid the faces, but one thing was clear—

Each time, it was a different man.

The abrupt change silenced the room. The clinking of glasses faded as guests whispered and speculated about the identity of the woman in the videos.

Zhao Fuhe returned to the hall, saw what was playing, and, as the crowd murmured and speculated, walked straight to Gu Pingsheng’s side. As if nothing had happened, she asked in a loud, intimate voice, “Senior, where’s Senior Wen? I wanted to apologize to her for my wardrobe blunder, but she was just here—where did she go?”

Her words immediately drew attention. People began to look around for Wen Zhixia.

But she was nowhere to be found.

Not long ago, a video and some photos had surfaced online, hinting at Wen Zhixia’s questionable behavior as a student. Although they had been scrubbed from the internet, in this circle, nothing stayed secret for long.

Those who had heard the rumors now looked at each other meaningfully. Could the woman in the video… be Wen Zhixia?

Gu Pingsheng swirled his wine, casting a frosty glance at Zhao Fuhe.

Her smile froze. “Did I say something wrong?”

She knew perfectly well whether it was a mistake or intentional.

No one noticed that Wang Haiqiong, re-entering the hall, nearly collapsed when she saw the footage.

Her mind went blank. As she tried to leave, someone exclaimed, “It’s her! It’s Wang Haiqiong!”

The woman in the video had shown her face—

It was Wang Haiqiong, lost in ecstasy.

Trying to escape, she was shoved to the floor by an enraged woman. “You slut! So it was you seducing my husband!”

Two company presidents hurriedly fled, faces covered, while their wives unleashed all their fury on Wang Haiqiong.

Those in the know were well aware how Wang Haiqiong had become a “President Wang.” An accomplished socialite, she had long maximized her assets. Over time, even she likely lost track of how many men she’d had improper dealings with.

But even if she forgot, there was someone ready to help her remember—scene by humiliating scene.

Only when Wang Haiqiong’s face was nearly unrecognizable from the beating did Gu Pingsheng, as host, finally signal for his bodyguards to intervene. “Take her to a doctor.”

The guards hoisted her up. Battered and bruised, she inadvertently met Gu Pingsheng’s icy gaze. In a voice only she could hear, he said, “How does it feel to be disgraced? Rest assured, this is only the beginning… However you stole that video from Zheng Xuancheng’s computer and spread it online to stir up trouble, I’ll make you pay double.”

His chilling words made Wang Haiqiong shudder violently.

So he knew. He had orchestrated this—invited her to the celebration only to destroy her in public.

As she tried to shout, the guards, following Gu Pingsheng’s signal, gagged her. “Mmm… mmm…”

“Take her to the hospital,” Gu Pingsheng commanded.

After a short rest, Wen Zhixia returned just in time to see Wang Haiqiong being carried out, covered in bruises. Wen Zhixia frowned, and Wang Haiqiong, catching sight of her, struggled even harder.

Wen Zhixia grew more suspicious. “Wait—”

“She was beaten by two CEOs’ wives. I’ve sent her to the hospital,” Gu Pingsheng said, taking her hand from behind.

Wang Haiqiong: “Mmm… mmm…”

“What are you waiting for? Can’t you see how badly she’s hurt?” The bodyguards paused at Wen Zhixia’s words, but Gu Pingsheng’s voice was stern.