Chinese wealthy family, my billionaire mother-in-law

"He takes his mother's last name." The deep voice was concise and to the point.

Song Weiyu thought it must be a dream. She pinched her thigh and her eyebrows twisted together in pain.

The answer seemed to be on this invitation, but she didn't want to believe it. After all, there were too many people with the surname Song in the world, and she was not the only one.

You can't put yourself in the shoes of others.

What a coincidence, the man's name is Song Jingming - spring and bright scenery were her expectations for life when she was a girl.

She lowered her eyes and said nothing more, not even looking at Fu Haitang again. Her whole body was erected with thorns of self-protection.

"Send me back."

"it is good."

Fu Haitang drove slowly, occasionally glancing at the little snail that was trying to escape the truth.

In fact, he could tell her everything at once, then take her home and force her to accept the reality and the truth.

But he couldn't bear to leave. The Song Weiyu in front of him was like a little snail that had suffered countless wounds and felt extremely insecure in this world. She hid in her fragile little shell with scars all over her body, enduring the fear brought by strangers.

He didn't want to drag her out by force.

He wanted to protect her from the wind and rain, and then wait for her to muster up the courage, extend her soft tentacles, and walk towards him.

He also selfishly wanted her to fall in love with him again.

Song Weiyu held the invitation in her hand, her eyes were dull and hazy, so much so that she didn't hear Fu Haitang calling her several times.

We arrived and the villa was right in front of us.

Song Weiyu put his hand on the car door, opened it a crack, and wanted to get out but stopped.

I asked with the courage I had accumulated along the way, "Mr. Fu, I'm sorry I want to ask you a question. It may be too abrupt, but..."

"You ask." He took out a lighter and lit a cigarette.

"I, wasn't I your wife before I lost my memory?" She used all her courage to ask this question, so much so that she didn't dare to look at him.

Fu Haitang saw the rejection in her eyes. At this moment, all the thorns on the woman's body were directed at him. He smiled in the choking smoke of nicotine.

"No."

I watched the woman breathe a sigh of relief, the thorns on her body softened, and even her voice became much lighter, "Thank you, Mr. Fu."

"Thank you for what? Thank you for not being your husband?"

She was speechless. "That's not what I meant. I just think that the two of us are not suitable for each other and there is no way we can be together."

That's right.

What's the difference with a knife?

Fu Haitang laughed angrily, his broken heart leaking like a shower head, and he pointed out the window with the ash between his cigarettes, "So what kind of person do you think is suitable for you?"

Song Weiyu thought about it seriously and showed an admiring expression.

"Serious, cold and serious, with sharp eyebrows and starry eyes, and preferably a soldier."

Fu Haitang threw the cigarette out of the window and said in a cold voice, "Get out of the car!"

Song Weiyu was frightened by his sudden sense of oppression and hurriedly got out of the car. He didn't even take the invitation or say goodbye. He just opened the car door and ran upstairs.

The more I run, the more anxious I become, and the more aggrieved I feel.

Suddenly, tears misted over my eyes. Why was he so fierce?

Fu Haitang fell in the cold winter day, and his eyes followed her with desolation.

On the way back, no matter how omnipotent he was, he was still worried about gains and losses, and couldn't help thinking with melancholy, we have been together day and night for decades, and I love you deeply, can you really forget me just like that?

So what kind of person can be engraved in your heart and cannot be blown away by wind or knocked down by rain?

As you said, is that person Chen Fang?

Will you remember everything when you see Chen Fang?

When he thought of this possibility, Fu Haitang gripped the steering wheel tightly and stepped on the accelerator, wishing he could get rid of his crazy jealousy.

But as the car speeded up, his irritability got out of control, until Li He called, "To celebrate your successful surgery, let's get together tonight, at the bar where Song Weiyu went."

—

The sky was cold and silent, without a single star.

The bar was lively, with colorful lights shining on the man's cool-toned coat, reflecting his even colder expression.

Logically, he doesn't like bars.

Because every time I see a bar, I always think of something bad.

But tonight, he suddenly wanted to come and see what the bar where Song Weiyu often got drunk looked like.

I want to sit in her private room, try her favorite cocktail, and listen to the songs she often orders.

Her private room is on the second floor, directly opposite the stage. It is closed on three sides and open on one side facing the stage, which ensures privacy while allowing her to see the hot male models dancing on the stage.

Some people's dignity comes from the bottom of their hearts. Even in the dim environment of a bar, their lazy posture cannot hide their demeanor.

Fu Haitang leaned on the sofa, looked down through the railing, and lit a cigarette.

A man was smoking alone. The girls downstairs kept glancing at him and called the waiter to ask who this man was.

The waiter shook his head: "It's my first time here, I haven't seen it. But that box belongs to our Sister Song. Judging from the style, it must be Sister Song's new male model."