After Becoming a Film Queen, She Dumped Her Financial Sponsor - Chapter 14

Chapter 14: So Money Really Can Do Whatever It Wants

“President Fu… President Fu?”

“Are you alright?”

Worried, Assistant Zhou stepped forward cautiously, barely daring to breathe. No one could quite guess what mood President Fu was in now.

After all, being dumped and even bitten back by your own carefully raised canary… was quite a pitiful thing when you thought about it.

These days, even being a sugar mommy wasn’t easy.

“I’m fine.”

Fu Qingyun’s fingers clenched tightly into a fist. But this subtle motion didn’t escape Zhou’s sharp eyes. He rushed forward, only to see bl00d dripping—an alarming sight.

This… how could this possibly be “fine”?

President Fu’s mouth was tougher than stone. Zhou sighed internally, practically begging all the gods, from heaven to earth, Jesus to Buddha.

“President Fu, maybe we should call someone over? You really need to get that bandaged.”

After repeated persuasion, Fu Qingyun finally regained some clarity in her eyes. She knew that walking back inside looking like a complete wreck would only invite a barrage of questions from those rich heirs.

She shook her head.

“No need. I’ll handle it myself.”

Alright then. Since the boss had spoken, there was no need to push further.

Zhou knew Fu Qingyun’s temperament too well. Any more nagging, and she’d probably get annoyed.

So he returned to the party. That’s when a woman with deep burgundy hair turned to look at him, a smirk curling on her lips, her lipstick the color of fresh roses.

“Assistant Zhou, where did President Fu go?”

Wherever Fu Qingyun was, she was always the center of attention—not just because of her otherworldly beauty, but more importantly because of the power she wielded.

She held real power, more than any of the spoiled rich kids here. That made all the difference.

“It’s probably best if you didn’t ask, Miss Zhao.”

“You know what President Fu is like.”

Though she was quiet, Fu Qingyun’s temper was not to be trifled with. On the contrary, she was so cold she seemed almost heartless.

She had entered the power center of the Nanshan Group as a teenager. Naturally, she exuded arrogance and ruthlessness that couldn’t be erased.

“Assistant Zhou, forget her—what’s so interesting about Fu Qingyun anyway? Can I ask you a question? I promise it has nothing to do with her!”

A clean-cut young girl walked over. She didn’t fit in here at all, her clothes and appearance more like a high schooler.

Zhou wanted to cry. Why was everyone targeting him today? He wasn’t Fu Qingyun.

But he had to bow under pressure. None of these second-generation elites were to be offended.

Zhou sighed in resignation.

“Miss Lin, ask whatever you want. I’ll consider if I can answer.”

Not that he really had a choice.

“Okay, is Fu Qingyun really done with our Xiaojin?”

That one line immediately piqued the interest of a few nearby guests. Everyone knew about Fu Qingyun and Qiao Sijin’s past, but to say it out loud changed everything.

Miss Lin really didn’t know fear.

To ask that kind of question? Good thing Fu Qingyun wasn’t here, or she’d be in big trouble.

“Uh… I don’t quite understand. Miss Lin, what exactly do you mean?”

What did she mean by “our Xiaojin”? Could she be one of Qiao Sijin’s rabid fangirls?

Zhou instinctively took a few steps back. The world had gone mad. Fu Qingyun and Qiao Sijin’s business had nothing to do with him, a lowly assistant.

He was sweating buckets.

“Don’t pretend in front of me—I know everything.”

With bright eyes and white teeth, the girl looked pure and out of place here. Clearly, she hadn’t come to drink but to confirm one thing: had Qiao Sijin really cut ties with Fu Qingyun?

Zhou really wanted to laugh bitterly. What had he done to deserve this, dealing with some bold little brat interrogating him?

He barely earned his paycheck working for Fu Qingyun already!

“Sorry, Miss Lin. That’s not part of my job description.”

Zhou plastered on a standard business smile. As long as he wasn’t embarrassed, then someone else would be.

Lin Yi hadn’t expected Zhou to outright refuse. She bit her lip—she had anticipated this.

She reached into her pocket, pulled out a bank card, and held it between two fingers with the arrogant confidence of a teenager.

“Is this enough?”

But before Zhou could answer, a familiar voice rang out behind Lin Yi, making her stiff fingers curl up slightly like a startled cat.

“Prying into your idol’s privacy like this… don’t you think that’s a little offensive?”

Fu Qingyun was wiping her bloodied fingers with a handkerchief. Tiny droplets sparkled on her skin. She gave a soft smile—but it made everyone’s hair stand on end.

Crap. Fu Qingyun was back.

Lin Yi’s expression didn’t change, but she was already panicking inside. Her older sister had warned her: Fu Qingyun was not someone to mess with.

If she upset Fu Qingyun now, even her parents would have to bring gifts to apologize—and she’d probably get her legs broken at home.

She’d timed it so carefully—waited for Fu Qingyun to leave, saw only Zhou left, and made her move.

She didn’t expect to get caught by this viper.

“So what? If you two really have nothing to do with each other anymore, then I’m throwing a champagne party!”

Her words were tough, but Fu Qingyun’s eyes caught the slight trembling of Lin Yi’s legs beneath her pants.

“What I have with her… I won’t be telling anyone.”

“You—”

Lin Yi’s brain spun, but she couldn’t come up with a response. Her face flushed red like a student who got called on in class but didn’t know the answer.

“Come now, President Fu, let’s not argue with a kid.”

Someone stepped in to smooth things over. They knew this was Lin Yi—daughter of the Lin family, little sister of Miss Lin. No need to make things ugly.

“Let’s get back to drinking.”

“Maybe talk about recent events.”

Watching Fu Qingyun’s retreating back, Lin Yi disliked her more and more. This woman was soaked in worldliness, reeking of wealth and rot.

So what if she had money?

Does money really mean you can do whatever you want?

Do whatever you please?

Fu Qingyun’s hand wound had mostly healed, but she could still feel glass shards digging deeper into her flesh.

“This isn’t the place for little girls. Go home.”

Zhou kindly advised, only to see Lin Yi stubbornly press that bank card into his hand anyway.