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About half an hour later, Wen Fu returned to the Lu family villa. The moment she stepped into the lavishly decorated hall, the housekeeper, Aunt Zhang, greeted her with a helpless sigh:
“Madam, you finally decided to come back. You always play this runaway-from-home game, but President Lu is busy with work every single day. The company has so many matters waiting for him to handle.”
“How could he possibly have the leisure to put up with your tantrums? Hurry and stew that wild pheasant you specially bought from the countryside last time. Add some wild mushrooms and cordyceps—make a nourishing soup and bring it to President Lu at the office as an apology.”
“After all, this time you really were the unreasonable one. President Lu works hard outside to earn money and support the family. You should be more sensible. If you stop messing around, maybe President Lu won’t stay upset with you—”
As soon as Aunt Zhang saw her, she unleashed a barrage of criticism, making it sound as though Wen Fu was deliberately being petty and picking fights with Lu Chenyi.
Because Wen Fu had always debased herself for him—submissive and fawning— even the servants no longer respected her as Mrs. Lu.
Lu Chenyi spent years drinking heavily at business banquets, often coming home drunk and eventually damaging his stomach. Wen Fu had pitied him.
Every so often, she would drive for over two hours to the countryside to buy fresh, untainted ingredients to nurse his health. She didn’t trust the produce in the city, full of growth enhancers and chemicals.
But whenever Lu Chenyi saw it, he never thanked her—he complained she was making a fuss, wasting effort. Why bother driving all that way when everything could be bought in town? He even accused her of being spoiled and picky, obsessed with only eating authentic wild game.
What he didn’t know was that it wasn’t her who was picky—it was him. Over the years, his stomach had grown so delicate that he wouldn’t even touch soup unless it was made from a genuine wild pheasant.
She had poured her heart into him, only to realize it was like feeding scraps to a dog. Now, she only wanted to treat herself well.
A woman’s life wouldn’t go smoothly without encountering a few scumbags to teach her how to grow up quickly.
Back then, Lu Chenyi often traveled for work, flying around constantly, sometimes gone for ten days or half a month, often not coming home at night, treating her with cold indifference. At least she could once deceive herself into hoping—believing that love could grow over time.
But now, his heart was harder than stone, tangled up again with the “white moonlight” in his heart. Wen Fu was exhausted. She didn’t want to keep getting entangled.
Since he could not be warmed, she might as well let go—cut her losses in time.
At that moment, she impatiently cut Aunt Zhang off:
“Aunt Zhang, I just recovered from a serious illness and need nourishment. Go stew the wild pheasant in the fridge for me!”
Aunt Zhang froze for a second, confused:
“But Madam, you always cooked the soup yourself for President Lu, saying he only liked the chicken soup made by your hand.”
Wen Fu, looking tired, gave her a lazy glance, said nothing, and went upstairs quickly.
She couldn’t stand this suffocatingly cold villa for another second.
She no longer wanted to live the kind of life where she spent hours preparing a table of delicious dishes, waiting happily for Lu Chenyi to come home—only to be disappointed, left helpless and wandering.
Since childhood, her life had revolved entirely around him. She carried his schoolbag, helped with homework. When he got into fights outside, she always took the blame, getting scolded and beaten by her parents in his stead.
The rest of her life, she decided, would be for herself.
She packed all her branded clothes and handbags, even the expensive jewelry and accessories. They were hers—why should she leave them to Shen Qingli?
After faithfully serving as President Lu for three years, she wasn’t going to leave a single luxury item behind.
It took her over two hours to pack five or six large suitcases. Then she had the servants carry them downstairs.
From the kitchen, Aunt Zhang saw the overwhelming scene. In the past, Wen Fu only packed a few clothes when she “ran away.” This time, it looked like she wanted to move the whole house out.
She frowned, muttering:
“Madam, what are you doing again? You just staged a runaway earlier, and now this? You know President Lu is too busy with work to care about this. Why bother with the same old trick again?”
“President Lu doesn’t fall for it anyway. Enough already. If you keep pushing, and really make him angry, it won’t end well for you—”
Wen Fu ignored her, ordered the suitcases loaded into the car, then went into the kitchen, served herself a bowl of pheasant soup, and sat at the dining table sipping with relish.
She frowned slightly.
“Aunt Zhang, this soup tastes off—it’s too greasy. Did you forget to skim the oil and remove the smell?”
Aunt Zhang blinked in surprise, muttering:
“But Madam, you always simmered this soup yourself over a slow fire. I don’t really know how to do it… Besides, wasn’t this soup meant for President Lu? Why are you drinking it yourself?”
Wen Fu let out a cold laugh.
“I got into a car accident and nearly died on the operating table. Can’t I drink a few bowls of soup to replenish myself? Do you have a problem with that?”
“And besides, Lu Chenyi has hands and feet. If he wants soup, he can make it himself. Why should I serve him?”
Aunt Zhang froze in place. Madam seemed completely different today. Before, she doted on President Lu, carefully looking after his meals and needs, terrified of him being displeased. How could she now say such cold, sharp words?
In the past, she often feigned illness just to get President Lu’s attention, even rushing to the hospital every so often, pestering him to visit. But this time, she was claiming she’d been in a car accident and almost died?
Surely another trick—but President Lu never cared for such stunts, and yet Madam always repeated them endlessly.
Aunt Zhang watched in shock as Wen Fu drank nearly the entire pot of chicken soup, leaving barely anything behind—then packed up the rest.
She even gathered all the authentic wild ingredients she had bought from the farm.
Then, under everyone’s astonished gaze, Wen Fu strode out proudly, leaving the villa behind.