Fu Residense - Continued
The moment Mr. Fu's assistant rushed into the room, the air shifted.
"Sir—!"
The man's face was drained of all color, his tie crooked, his breathing uneven. His voice trembled as though he had sprinted through hell to arrive here.
Mr. Fu lifted his gaze slowly, irritation flashing before dread clawed its way up his spine. "What is it?" he demanded, fingers tightening around his porcelain teacup.
"Sir," the assistant swallowed hard, "I've confirmed that the Young Miss attended dinner earlier… with Young Master Haitao."
Mr. Fu froze.
The name alone was enough to make his pulse spike.
"And?" he barked, a sharp edge creeping into his tone.
The assistant hesitated — then forced the words out. "Unfortunately… the Young Miss offended Mr. Yang's wife during the di
