Mr Fu, I Really Love You

Panda Novel

Lin Jingquan fell quiet for a moment as he took out another cigarette, before saying with furrowed brows, “Your brother can’t leave, the Lin organization still has to depend on your brother to support it.”

“Then, why send my mother and me overseas?” Lin Ran asked in pursuit, “Can’t I choose not to go overseas?”

“This world is full of people who worship those of higher status than them and trample those of lower statuses. If the matter really grows into something that cannot be cleaned up, and you all aren’t overseas… You’ll be unable to avoid being tortured and humiliated by others! I’ve already discussed this with your mother. Based on your personality, it’s hard for you not to cause any trouble, so you must go overseas!”

Lin Ran clenched her fist around a corner of her skirt, and she raised her neck wanting to argue back, but once she thought of what happened in the family, she forced her temper back down. She sank back into the couch and kept quiet while her heart was, in fact, also panicking and helpless.

Liang Mulan’s brain felt like a mess—as they said, couples are birds of the same forest who fly away separately when a disaster arrives. The past few years, Liang Mulan was aware of how Lin Jingquan fooled around outside behind her back. She thought that the last bit of feelings she held for Lin Jingquan had long worn away; at times when she felt extremely hateful, she even thought that all would be peaceful again once the man died.

But earlier on in their bedroom, hearing Lin Jingquan tell her that he was prepared to shoulder everything if the matter had no alternative to protect Lin Jinghui, that even a death penalty was unavoidable that way, Liang Mulan’s tears flowed uncontrollably.

Lin Jingquan said that he had done too many immoral actions in the past years and Lin Jinghui had been dragged down by him. He couldn’t send his brother off on a path of no return.

The words of “but Lin Jinghui doesn’t have a family to care for” were swallowed back down by Liang Mulan. Ever since Lin Jinghui’s daughter, Lin Xia, committed suicide and his wife killed herself in depression, he carelessly devoted all of his time and energy into work.

Lin Jingquan was not wrong—Lin Jinghui was dragged down into the mess by Lin Jingquan, but all those years, without Lin Jingquan, similarly, Lin Jinghui wouldn’t have achieved his position.

Without considering the feelings involved, it was simply an exchange of benefits for both parties. Lin Jinghui had chosen to go on that path himself at the start. To have gotten into the situation, was also because Lin Jinghui had chosen to support the wrong team in politics, why should all the responsibility fall on to Lin Jingquan?

Even as she felt furious, Liang Mulan knew that the matter would ultimately have to push out someone involved to carry the responsibility of the whole matter to finish it. That person had to have a high enough status, and there must be traces of their actions in every incident—no matter how the matter was viewed, Lin Jingquan was the best candidate.

Lin Nuan’s perspiring fists clenched together. Only understanding the consequences of the issue and not the causes made her heart beat fast in her chest, and she felt as though she was surrounded by mist and stepping on soft sinking ground.

The sound of tires against the gravel came from outside the house, and Lin Ran, who had been on edge the whole time, subconsciously stood up and said, “He’s back!”

Upon hearing the sound of a car door slamming shut, Lin Nuan turned around to look outside the window to see through the blinds that the tall Lin Chen and his assistant were standing beside the car.

“Wait outside for me for 15 minutes.”

Lin Chen’s deep and strong voice held a strength that calmed the panic in people’s hearts; even Lin Ran felt much safer.

Lin Chen walked in through the door, and his broad figure covered some of the light shining from the entranceway.

Even Lin Nuan was feeling the tremendous pressure over the Lin family’s situation, but Lin Chen remained strong and stable. He wore a white blouse underneath a gray vest, along with pants of the same shade, looking neat and firm.

He held a folder of documents in one hand as he entered the house, steadying himself with one hand on the shoe cabinet as he changed his shoes. The slightly dim light traced Lin Chen’s sharp facial features and the stiff upturned collar of his blouse, making him appear all the more strict and cold.

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