Volume One, Chapter 51: Framing an Accident

Pei Jingmo was a normal man; holding a woman in his arms and feeling nothing would indeed be abnormal. Song Qingyu understood instantly—the crucial point was that it was a woman, not specifically her. Realizing this, she suddenly no longer felt awkward. Her gaze was steadfast as she looked at Pei Jingmo. “Exactly.”

Pei Jingmo was speechless for a moment. Her determined expression was reminiscent of someone pledging allegiance to a party; clearly, she hadn’t understood the situation. Pei Jingmo was certain she thought that, once the two of them divorced, if anyone questioned his masculinity, she could even vouch for him.

“…Let’s eat,” he said.

“Mm, you eat too!” she replied.

Watching Song Qingyu’s relieved smile, Pei Jingmo felt his emotions tangled more than a ball of yarn clawed by a cat.

In the days that followed, Song Qingyu devoted all her energy to “The Interpreter.” After rounds of adjustments, improvements, and discussions, it was finally decided that “The Interpreter” would launch during National Day.

During the initial promotional phase, Song Qingyu dared not relax for a moment. She thought everything would go smoothly, but to her surprise, on September 9th, the Chu Corporation suddenly released a game called “Love Collector” without any prior publicity.

The game’s content, leveling system, and map unlocking were identical to those in “The Interpreter,” which was about to launch. The incident caused an uproar on the twelfth floor of Tianqi Corporation. Some even dug up Song Qingyu’s engagement to Chu Xingzhi, and rumors spread like wildfire.

People accused Song Qingyu of ulterior motives, claiming she used Tianqi Corporation to promote “The Interpreter,” only for Chu Xingzhi to launch first and seize the market. Others said she must have grown tired of living, daring to scheme against the young master—a path leading only to ruin.

The employees who had poured their efforts into “The Interpreter” were full of resentment, their gazes toward Song Qingyu brimming with hostility. Only Jie Changhe remained calm, doing his best to soothe the staff.

Song Qingyu hadn’t expected Chu Xingzhi to truly betray her over “The Interpreter.” Luckily, when Yu Qianqian and Xia Lu were poached by Chu Xingzhi, Lu Yuan had warned her to be cautious, so she’d been guarding against this moment. Perhaps subconsciously, she hoped Chu Xingzhi wouldn’t tamper with “The Interpreter.” Thus, when it happened, she felt not only anger but also a pang of sorrow.

Gu Yuantong had already heard about it. Song Qingyu didn’t know what he would think and sought him out immediately.

“President Gu, I’ve already broken up with Chu Xingzhi. I never intended to conspire with him against Tianqi Corporation’s interests.”

Pei Jingmo noticed there was not a hint of panic on Song Qingyu’s face, which meant she had already made her arrangements. “What’s your plan?”

“I want President Gu to fully trust me. I know the company’s legal department answers to you. I’d like to find an expert lawyer.”

Pei Jingmo raised his eyebrows. “You want to sue Chu Xingzhi?”

“I simply want to protect my rights through legal means.”

“The Interpreter” was Song Qingyu’s labor of love over these years. Chu Xingzhi knew how important it was to her, yet he still interfered—so he could not blame her for being ruthless.

“Understood. I’ll have the legal department cooperate with you.”

“Thank you, President Gu.”

With Gu Yuantong’s support, Song Qingyu feared nothing. She gathered evidence, organized the original game design documents, development records, copyright registrations, and sent a lawyer’s letter directly to Chu Xingzhi.

That afternoon, Song Qingyu received a call from Chu Xingzhi, ringing from her own office.

“Qingyu, let’s talk.”

“There’s nothing left to discuss between us.”

“I beg you, for the sake of what we once had, for grandma’s sake, let’s talk.”

Song Qingyu paused for a moment. “Only for grandma’s sake.”

“Alright. Meet me at our usual place.”

Song Qingyu fell silent. The “usual place” Chu Xingzhi referred to was a greenhouse.

That greenhouse was built when Chu Xingzhi’s father was still alive. Whenever he felt stressed or needed peace, he would retreat there to tend to the flowers. After his father passed away, Chu Xingzhi took over its care.

After the two met, Chu Xingzhi often brought Song Qingyu there—it became their old haunt.

When Song Qingyu arrived, Chu Xingzhi was already there. His suit jacket hung on a rack beside the greenhouse, and he was crouched on the ground, sorting through dead leaves and wilted flowers in the pots.

Hearing footsteps, he glanced back at her and smiled slightly. “You’re here.”

Without another word, he continued his task. “I haven’t been here in over a month. I forgot to water Xiangfei, Zixia, Hongxiu, and Menglu. They’re almost dead.”

The familiar names spoken from his lips made Song Qingyu clench her fists suddenly. She took a deep breath. “Why did you ask me here?”

Chu Xingzhi didn’t look back at her or answer her question.

“Do you remember how we met?”

Song Qingyu pursed her lips, saying nothing.

Chu Xingzhi continued, “I remember clearly. It was September 9th, eight years ago, not long after school started. I hit you with my bike—”

In truth, Chu Xingzhi’s bicycle never touched Song Qingyu. When she fell, the wheel was still some distance away. If Song Qingyu hadn’t been so beautiful, Chu Xingzhi might have suspected her of faking the injury.

After carrying Song Qingyu to the infirmary, he learned she suffered from chronic malnutrition, and had fainted from low blood sugar.

Chu Xingzhi had grown up in luxury and had never imagined anyone in this day and age could be malnourished. Especially since they attended a private school, where students were generally from wealthy or noble families—how could anyone go hungry?

At that time, Song Qingyu was gloomy, withdrawn, and cold. After learning Chu Xingzhi had helped her, she simply thanked him and left.

Later, Chu Xingzhi heard her story from others—her birth mother had died, her stepmother treated her poorly, her father abandoned her at school and ignored her, and she survived by writing assignments and running errands for classmates.

The more he learned, the more he felt for her. Unknowingly, perhaps from their first encounter, Chu Xingzhi had already fallen for Song Qingyu.

From then on, he brought an extra breakfast from home each morning to eat with her at school.

At first, Song Qingyu refused; she was stubborn and didn’t want anyone’s pity or charity. Later, Chu Xingzhi offered to pay her to take care of the flowers in his father’s greenhouse, and Song Qingyu finally agreed.

After school, the two did their homework in the greenhouse, spending weekends there as well.

Despite his efforts to make her happy, Song Qingyu remained icy toward him. He tried everything to cheer her up.

“Qingyu, there are too many flowers here. Why don’t we give them names?”

“This purple flower—let’s call it Little White.”

“This one smells nice—let’s call it Stinky.”

Annoyed by his terrible names, Song Qingyu finally couldn’t stand it and renamed the flowers herself.

Growing up together, feelings naturally blossomed. Many pursued Song Qingyu, and Chu Xingzhi feared she would become someone else’s girlfriend. One weekend afternoon, nervously clutching a bouquet of roses he’d bought, he confessed.

“Qingyu, I like you. Will you be my girlfriend?”