Si Yiheng’s other hand gripped his father’s wrist.
His gaze was cold and heavy, and when his father met his eyes, he suddenly sobered up, feeling a flicker of fear and dread.
Si Yiheng pushed his father away with a cold expression, the force so great that the man staggered backward several steps, his lower back slamming against the edge of the table with a sharp crack.
His father’s hands flailed in the air, grabbing at the tablecloth and dragging dishes and glasses crashing to the floor along with him.
The guests were all stunned by the scene before them, too shocked to speak. Si Yiheng wasn’t even pretending anymore—he had directly laid hands on his own father.
Song Wenzhao’s face was icy as he stepped onto the father’s hand.
The bones of the father’s fingers crunched faintly under Song Wenzhao’s shoe, the pain so intense that the man could barely even let out a sound.
Song Wenzhao spoke in a gentle tone, “Mr. Si, bullying a young woman visiting for the first time seems rather beneath you.”
His father wanted to say that Si Yiheng disrespected him, that Si Yiheng’s girlfriend disrespected him, and that he had every right to teach Shu Yu a lesson.
But faced with the icy glares of Song Wenzhao and Si Yiheng, he didn’t dare speak another word. “Si Lanzhi, come here. Help me back.”
Si Lanzhi, who had been enjoying the show and wishing her brother and Song Wenzhao would hit their father a few more times, stepped forward immediately to help him up.
“Brother, I’ll take Father home first.”
Si Yiheng nodded, then turned to examine Shu Yu from head to toe, making sure she wasn’t hurt before finally relaxing.
The moment his father’s hand had been about to strike, Shu Yu’s body had trembled uncontrollably.
She didn’t even know where she had found the courage to rush forward.
She didn’t want Si Yiheng to be hit, but it seemed she was even less capable of taking a blow than he was.
Yet there was no taking back Shu Yu’s impulsive move.
Then, two forces had grabbed her wrists. Shu Yu saw Si Yiheng and an unfamiliar tall figure standing in front of her, blocking the blow.
She tried to pull free from the tall man’s grip but couldn’t.
Now, as Si Yiheng checked her over, Shu Yu timidly lifted her gaze to look at Song Wenzhao and whispered, “Si Yiheng, I’m fine.”
Then, shyly addressing Song Wenzhao, she asked, “Sir, can you let go of my hand?”
Song Wenzhao and Si Yiheng both froze.
Song Wenzhao’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his fingers tightening slightly around Shu Yu’s wrist for a moment before quickly releasing her. The moment he let go, Shu Yu hid completely behind Si Yiheng.
Seventeen years had passed.
His little Yu had called him “sir” again.
Before Song Wenzhao could feel any joy, he saw Shu Yu pulling away from him.
Shu Yu took Si Yiheng’s hand, and Si Yiheng cast a cold glance at Song Wenzhao before leaning down slightly, following the tug of her hand to listen to what she had to say. “Si Yiheng, I don’t want to be here anymore. Can you take me away?”
Si Yiheng placed his hand on Shu Yu’s waist. “Okay, I’ll take you to rest.”
Just as they were about to leave the banquet hall, Song Wenzhao’s voice came again. “Young Master Si, I just returned to the country, and my place isn’t ready yet. Could you put me up for a few days?”
Si Yiheng frowned slightly and instructed the butler to take Song Wenzhao to rest.
Once inside the room, Si Yiheng said, “Yu Bao, Song Wenzhao is not a good person.”
Shu Yu blinked in confusion. “?”
Song Wenzhao—the one who had lost his little sister?
Hearing the name, Shu Yu instinctively turned her head back.
Seeing her look his way, Song Wenzhao, standing at the boundary of light and shadow, adjusted his sleeve and offered a perfectly measured smile.
His smile was gentle and restrained—not too loud, not too much—like a warm spring breeze.
Si Yiheng was not amused.
He pressed his thin lips into a faint line and gently turned Shu Yu’s fluffy head back to face him. “Yu Bao, is Song Wenzhao that good-looking?”
Shu Yu answered honestly, “He is good-looking.”
Si Yiheng was at a loss for words.
Song Wenzhao’s face was passable, the sort that could easily charm young girls.
Shu Yu immediately wrapped her arms around Si Yiheng’s and rubbed her cheek lightly against his palm. “But you, my dear, you’re the best-looking in my eyes, you know?”
The corner of Si Yiheng’s mouth finally lifted slightly. “Mm.”
He even thought he might be a bit unhinged—he wanted Shu Yu to look only at him and no one else.
Shu Yu never used to go out, so this twisted side of him had never surfaced before. But today, so many eyes had fallen on her, and she had called others “sir.”
Si Yiheng could no longer hide his darker impulses.
He escorted Shu Yu to the room prepared for her and kept a respectful distance as he stepped back. “Little treasure, good night.”
Shu Yu nodded obediently. “Good night, my dear.”
Back in his own room, Si Yiheng thought for a long time. He shouldn’t resort to underhanded schemes. Instead, he needed to offer Shu Yu more—enough to keep her by his side.
ATM: Transfer 200,000,000.
