Chapter 42.1

Song Wei walked upstairs, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. She was worried about Yang Yingqiu being concerned, but she couldn’t just end up on the street or check into a hotel. She steeled herself and went in.

Unfortunately, as soon as the door opened, she bumped into a woman who was coming out of the kitchen, holding a water jug. Yang Yingqiu had her hand on her stomach, and her expression wasn’t good.

Song Wei asked, “Mom, what’s wrong?”

Yang Yingqiu replied, “Why are you back?”

They both spoke at the same time, but Yang Yingqiu responded first. “I ate something that didn’t sit well. My stomach’s upset, but it’s nothing serious.”

Song Wei put down her bag, walked over, and took the water jug to pour some water. She felt a pang of concern. “Should we go to the hospital and have it checked?”

“It’s nothing major. I just ate something bad. I’ll take some medicine, it’ll be fine.”

Song Wei opened the stomach medicine, handed it to her, and watched her take it. It was like a role reversal, and she scolded gently, “Stop eating so much takeout. The food outside isn’t clean. I’ve had a few stomach issues from ordering takeout near here before.”

“Alright.” Yang Yingqiu changed the subject. “Why did you suddenly come back?”

Song Wei avoided her gaze under the pretense of setting down her cup. “Chen Jubai has to work overtime this weekend, and I didn’t want to stay alone. Too boring.”

Yang Yingqiu felt her stomach churn but didn’t dwell on the reason for Song Wei’s return. “Alright, it’s late. Get some rest.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Mom.”

Back in her room, Song Wei took a shower. The familiar surroundings and arrangement gave her a sense of comfort. Afterward, she hugged a long-lost teddy bear, feeling like she had come back to life.

She found herself thinking of Snowflake. Did he make it home? Did he feed the cat?

Turning over, she reached for her phone on the bedside table.

There was a new message on WeChat, from Chen Jubai—just a simple “Goodnight.”

Song Wei stared at the message for a few seconds but didn’t reply. She turned off the phone, tossed it onto the nightstand, and went to sleep, still hugging the teddy bear.

They had already said everything that needed saying today.

She didn’t know if things would return to how they were after the weekend. Even if they didn’t, that was still better than living a lie every day, pretending nothing was wrong. Exposing the problem was the first step to solving it; if it couldn’t be solved, then so be it.

He had set a three-month deadline, so three months it would be. She would decide what to do when the time came.

She had barely laid down when her phone rang.

Zhu Qingfei’s voice practically exploded through the receiver. “Whoa, you actually picked up!”

“Huh?”

Zhu Qingfei exclaimed, “Shouldn’t you be lovey-dovey with Chen Jubai right now? Or is this a halftime break?”

Song Wei was baffled. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t know?”

The back-and-forth wore on Song Wei’s patience. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Chen Jubai! He posted a picture of your new car on his Moments!”

One second. Two seconds. Song Wei’s mind went blank. She didn’t even respond, immediately exiting the call and scrolling through Moments. It didn’t take long for her to find the post—a picture taken by the salesperson when she got the car.

There was no caption, but the comments below were abuzz. Someone asked, “President Chen, are you dating Manager Song?” His reply: “No, we’re married.”

From that reply onward, the comments were mostly astonished reactions and congratulations. They seemed endless.

Song Wei was so shocked she couldn’t speak.

Zhu Qingfei’s voice came through the phone again. “Chen Jubai is incredible. I’m starting to think he might have a secret account in some private group.”

“Not talking anymore. I’m joining the fight.”

Song Wei had no idea what Zhu Qingfei meant by “the fight.” When she opened the group chat, the first message she saw was from just seconds ago: “Manager Song, we mean no offense. Congrats to you and Chen Jubai!”

She scrolled all the way to the top.

At first, the group members expressed confusion about the post. Then, someone made a sarcastic like “Manager Song is really awesome,” and the conversation shifted. They started discussing the car’s cost, how generous Chen Jubai was, and whether Ning Shuhui always knew. Then Zhu Qingfei jumped in to argue with them. Shortly after, Chen Jubai’s reply in Moments silenced the entire group.

Meanwhile, messages were flooding another smaller group chat for Team A. Ji Yao and Yao Miaoxuan spammed several pages of comments, and Dong Ruicheng played the role of an overly enthusiastic narrator, confirming and embellishing the news.

As Song Wei scrolled through the chaos, her emotions were in turmoil. Everything felt so sudden. The timing was baffling—they had just had a huge argument and decided to separate. Yet now, this?

She clicked back into Moments.

9:43 PM—just twenty minutes ago. Had he already reached home?

After deliberating, Song Wei sent him a message: “You should’ve told me first.”

They had agreed to discuss things, yet he had gone ahead and made this public without consulting her. She had no idea how this would snowball, but it was reckless of him.

Her phone rang almost immediately. She hesitated for a few seconds before picking up. His voice was steady and straightforward: “Song Wei, I would’ve done this whether or not you agreed. I don’t care about others’ opinions. All I know is that hiding our relationship has caused you harm, and that needs to stop.”

“You’ve been at Guangnian for six months now. Isn’t that what you meant when you said to wait? Are you still worried about any potential backlash? I’m the company owner and your husband. I promised your parents I wouldn’t let you suffer, and this is my responsibility.”

Song Wei didn’t know how to respond.

Yes, she had been there for six months. Her competence should speak for itself, and her initial concerns were no longer valid.

This wouldn’t have any major negative consequences. At most, it would be gossip fodder for a while. In fact, it might even make her work smoother in the long run. After all, who wouldn’t want to be on the boss’s wife’s good side? She laughed at herself.

But what shocked her wasn’t just the announcement—it was his decision to make it.

Ning Shuhui had once privately suggested that they keep their marriage a secret. She had probably said the same to him. Going public like this would undoubtedly strain their relationship, yet he still chose to do it.

Hugging her teddy bear tightly, Song Wei’s mind became a tangled mess again.

Chen Jubai wasn’t at home. He was sitting in his car downstairs from her building, lost in thought.

This was his fault.

In the past, people often tried to pair him with Ning Shuhui. He always denied it, but rumors persisted.

While colleagues wouldn’t gossip in front of him, rumors spread nonetheless. Before marriage, he didn’t care—intervening would only make things worse.

But now, Song Wei was part of the company. Those rumors would inevitably reach her ears.

Chen Jubai felt a deep sense of guilt.

Ning Shuhui had been back for a week, and it had been a busy one. Those whispers hadn’t reached him, but they might’ve been tormenting her all along. To make matters worse, he had canceled on her midweek, breaking a promise.

If only he had thought of her more, this wouldn’t have happened.

He had vowed not to let her suffer, yet she had been hurt—because of him.

Recalling her sorrowful gaze when she left, her stubborn tears refusing to fall, his heart ached. If her dad Song Gaoyi had witnessed that, he might’ve prepared divorce papers on the spot.

Softening his tone, Chen Jubai tried to comfort her. “Don’t listen to the gossip. They don’t know the truth—they’re just spectators looking for drama. Don’t let it hurt you.”

Of course, Song Wei knew this. The rumors didn’t bother her because of jealousy.

The phone call went quiet for a moment before the man resumed speaking, his voice steady and deliberate:

“Song Wei, don’t compare yourself to Ning Shuhui. What you see is an exaggerated version of her excellence—her family background, capabilities, and ambition. That’s all people focus on. You don’t need to doubt yourself. In many ways, you’re far superior to her.”

“As for my relationship with her, if I had any feelings for her, I would’ve acted on them years ago. I wouldn’t have waited until now.”

Leaning back in his chair, Chen Jubai asked softly, “Do you still remember why I said I started this business?”

Song Wei replied just as gently, “I remember. You wanted to make money.”

“Yes, I wanted to make money. But now I’ve made enough—achieved my biggest goal. I’m not someone with grand desires. If we hadn’t gotten married, I might’ve continued working steadily for Chu Qi and the hundreds of employees here. But when you came into my life, I felt driven—motivated to provide you with a better life, to build more wealth for our future family.”