Chapter 89: All That I Have Is Yours

Qiao Xi clutched the fabric at his chest tightly, as though afraid he would evade the question again. “Why… why have you never told me?”
“Why would you rather watch me struggle and hit dead ends searching for my benefactor?”
“Why would you rather let me be grateful for Lu Yanzhi’s help… and remain silent all this time?”
Hearing these words, Fu Yancheng’s body stiffened slightly.
He was silent for a moment. Then he raised his hand and with utmost gentleness wiped the tears from her cheek with his fingertip.
In the depths of his gaze, complex emotions churned—resignation at having his secret uncovered, but even more, a tenderness so profound it could not be dissolved.
“Yes—it was me.”
Fu Yancheng finally admitted openly, “From the moment I learned of your family’s misfortune, when you were forced to abandon your studies abroad, I have been supporting you through a trust fund.”
He paused, looking into her eyes, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to feel pressured.”
His gaze was gentle, almost a sigh.
“Xixi, I wanted you to accept my help because you needed it, not out of obligation or gratitude.”
“More than anything… I wanted you to fall in love with me for who I am, not because of any so-called debt.”
He gave a bitter smile. “Watching you search for your benefactor—it did hurt, I’ll admit.”
“But what I feared more was that if I told you from the start, you’d feel bound by gratitude, and perhaps… stay by my side against your true wishes.”
“That’s not what I want.”
Fu Yancheng cupped her face, his gaze blazing.
“What I want is you, Qiao Xi—choosing me simply because I am Fu Yancheng.”
“So I’d rather wait, wait until you truly see my heart and come to me of your own free will.”
This candid, deeply heartfelt confession struck the softest part of Qiao Xi’s heart.
So this was the weight and care behind his silence.
He did not want her gratitude; all he wanted was her heart.
Once more, tears welled up uncontrollably, but this time, they were not from pain or bitterness, but from a happiness and security so overwhelming it wrapped her tight.
“Fool… you big fool!”
Qiao Xi choked out the words, pounding his chest with her fists.
“How could you think that… how could I ever love you just out of gratitude…”
As she spoke, she rose on tiptoe and kissed his lips, letting her actions speak for all the words she could not say.
The kiss was tinged with salty tears, yet it was sweeter and more resolute than any before.
When the kiss ended, Qiao Xi leaned her forehead against Fu Yancheng’s, their breaths mingling. “Fu Yancheng, listen well.”
“My love for you never had anything to do with who you are or what you’ve done.”
“It’s simply because you are you—the Fu Yancheng who gets jealous for me, who worries for me, who quietly arranges everything yet never seeks credit.”

Fu Yancheng listened to Qiao Xi’s earnest confession and drew her even closer, as if wanting to fuse her into his very bones and blood.
“Alright, I understand,” he replied hoarsely, his voice filled with contentment and a deep sense of relief.
“From now on, all my secrets will be yours to share.”
“Everything I have is yours.”
No longer was there anything between them.
—
Elsewhere.
A dark, damp basement.
Lu Yanzhi was tied to an iron chair, his arms bound behind him. The wound at his temple had scabbed over with dark red blood.
His suit was covered in dust and dried blood, making him look utterly disheveled.
He hung his head, panting heavily, trying to gather his scattered thoughts.
The iron door screeched open.
A pair of polished black leather shoes stepped inside.
Miller strode over and looked down at Lu Yanzhi with condescension.
Behind him stood two expressionless, burly bodyguards.
“Mr. Lu, forgive the indignity,” Miller said, feigning regret, though calculation flickered in his eyes.
“It was truly a last resort to invite you here in this manner.”
Lu Yanzhi jerked his head up, fury and humiliation burning in his eyes.
“Miller, what do you want?!”
“What do I want?”
Miller sneered, leisurely lighting a cigar. He took a deep drag and blew the smoke slowly into Lu Yanzhi’s face.
“I want you… to do me a little favor.”
He bent down, his mouth close to Lu Yanzhi’s ear.
“Fu Yancheng cut off my profits, ruined my plans, and sent my most trusted aide to prison.”
“I have to settle this score.”
His eyes suddenly turned vicious. “I want you to return to Fu Yancheng and Qiao Xi’s side and find a way… to bring down the Fu Corporation.”
“Destroy that presumptuous woman!”
Lu Yanzhi snapped, “Why should I help you do such a thing?!”
“Why?”

Miller straightened and slapped Lu Yanzhi’s cheek—hard enough to humiliate.
“Because your life is in my hands.”
“And… your mother, who’s recovering in a Swiss sanatorium—her safety depends entirely on your next move, doesn’t it?”
Lu Yanzhi’s body went rigid, his face turning ashen.
His mother was his only weakness, and Miller had him by the throat.
Seeing his face drained of blood, Miller smiled with satisfaction.
“Relax. Once it’s done, I’ll give you enough money for you and your mother to live comfortably for the rest of your lives, somewhere no one will ever find you.”
“But if you refuse…”
He paused, his eyes turning merciless. “You and your mother will vanish from this world without a trace.”
“All the evidence will point to you.”
“It will be you, Lu Yanzhi, who plotted everything out of love-turned-hatred, out of jealousy for Fu Yancheng.”
“And I, Karl Miller, will be nothing but an innocent victim whom you deceived and exploited.”
He had already devised the perfect escape and scapegoat.
Lu Yanzhi glared at Miller, his teeth grinding audibly.
He knew all too well how ruthless Miller could be—and that he never made empty threats.
Defiance meant immediate death for him and his mother.
Obedience meant plunging into an abyss from which he could never return.
It was a dead end, with no way back.
Miller seemed to sense his inner torment and added languidly, “You’re a clever man, Mr. Lu. Think about it—why does Fu Yancheng deserve everything?”
“Wealth, status—and Qiao Xi. Are you really willing to accept that?”
“Don’t you want… to reclaim everything that should have been yours?”
He dangled the bait, stoking the jealousy and unwillingness festering deep inside Lu Yanzhi’s heart.
Lu Yanzhi shut his eyes, his Adam’s apple moving with difficulty.
When he opened them again, all that remained was a bleak, resigned numbness.
He spoke hoarsely, “…I need some time.”
A victor’s smile appeared on Miller’s face, and he signaled for his men to untie Lu Yanzhi.
“Very good. It seems you’ve made the wise choice.”
He clapped Lu Yanzhi on the shoulder. “I’ll provide the necessary support and information.”
“Remember, you don’t have much time—and my patience is even shorter.”
A desolate smile tugged at the corner of Lu Yanzhi’s lips…