Beg Me to Remarry

Chapter 27: 027 The Familiar Characters Chapter 27: 027 The Familiar Characters He Xing returned to the villa, everything was as usual. The servant was wiping the green plants in the living room and immediately rose to greet him with a bow upon seeing him.

He took the stairs two at a time and pushed open Fu Han’s room, which was as disheveled as if it had just been robbed.

Without a second thought, it had to be Fu Han’s doing.

He Xing clenched his teeth so hard they made a grinding sound, his gaze falling upon the desk where a piece of paper was held down by an inkstone.

“I’m gone. Don’t look for me. Tell Grandfather I’ll visit when I have time.”

The departure note was simple, with no beginning or end, but He Xing recognized the handwriting as Fu Han’s.

For three years, this was the first time he had seen Fu Han’s writing, still familiar and graceful with a fountain pen, but the strokes were now deeper, pressing through the paper, the edges of each character seemingly more incisive than before.

He Xing crumpled the thin sheet of paper in his hand, which would turn to dust if he squeezed just a bit tighter.

Yet, in the end, he carefully smoothed out the paper, folding it into a rectangle, and placed it in the innermost part of his wallet.

He pulled out his phone and made a call, his low voice sounding clear in the empty villa, carrying an inexplicable chill, “You have five minutes. I want to know where Fu Han is now.”

As five minutes were about to pass, He Xing’s phone rang at the last second. It was his assistant Liang Tao’s callback, “President He, I’ve found her. Miss Fu is at…”
He Xing’s expression softened somewhat. After hanging up the phone, he strode downstairs; there was no reason to linger without her there.

The Lamborghini roared to life again, speeding away and leaving a long trail of gasoline fumes behind.

Ji Liangchuan’s words echoed in his brain, if she hadn’t gone to that man, then perhaps it was not so bad to let her leave for a while.

…

The next morning.

Nan Qing squinted as she opened her room door, greeted by a rich aroma washing over her.

Following her body’s instinct, she half-closed her eyes, walked forward, and ended up in the kitchen.

This was Nan Qing’s first time in the kitchen since moving in. The pot was still steaming, and beneath a white porcelain bowl, pressed down by a piece of paper with Fu Han’s handwriting, “I’ve gone to work. Remember to eat when you get up.”

Nan Qing lifted the pot lid to reveal a simple egg noodle dish. Except for eggs and noodles, her fridge contained nothing else, likely brought by the housekeeping aunt last week.

It was the simplest bowl of noodles she had eaten from childhood to adulthood, and also the tastiest.

Afterward, Nan Qing surprisingly took the initiative to wash the dishes, which was also the first time she had willingly washed dishes in her life. If her family had known, it probably would have blown the roof off.

While she was doing the dishes, Fu Han had already arrived at Su Cheng’s company.

Although Su Cheng claimed it was a small company he started without his family’s help, the location was undeniably good, situated in the city center and just five subway stops from Fu Han’s place.

Being in a hurry, she could only take the freight elevator, which carried two decorators and a two-meter object wrapped in paper besides herself, its contents unknown.

They all got off on the same floor. One of the decorators asked her, “Do you know where Su Cheng Creative Advertising Company is?”

Fu Han was somewhat surprised as she hadn’t seen any sign of renovation at the company over the past few days.

Yet she coolly replied, “Just follow me.”

Upon reaching the company, she went straight to her office. Su Cheng had given her the position of Chief Photographer, which came with a private office. Apart from Su Cheng, she was the only one in the entire company who enjoyed such a privilege.

When Fu Han first joined the company, some staff members had their murmurs, thinking she only received special treatment because she was pretty and the boss took a liking to her.

If this were Fu Han from three years ago, she couldn’t have tolerated even a hint of disrespect without seeking immediate recompense; however, three years taught her a lot, including that not every fight needed to be head-on—sometimes a softer approach could achieve the desired effect too.

For instance, she ignored the rumors, and yet every photo she took turned out exquisitely beautiful, to the point where the company’s photo editors claimed her pictures needed no editing.

Skill is always the most effective tool to silence criticism.

Fu Han had barely processed half of yesterday’s photos when a knock on the door came. Without lifting her head, she said, “Come in.”

The next moment, the door swung open from outside, a gust of wind carrying with it a young voice, “Han, you have to see what’s going on outside, it’s bustling!”

This was the assistant Su Cheng hired for her, supposedly to carry gear during outdoor shoots.

But asking Fu Han to let a fresh college graduate, whose height barely reached her shoulders, carry heavy equipment just didn’t sit right with her, so they ended up working together on outdoor shoots. She would carry the expensive DSLR while Zhao Ting managed the bulkier but lighter tripods and such.

Though they hadn’t been together long, Fu Han already fully understood Zhao Ting’s dramatic nature, always blowing things out of proportion.

Fu Han had no interest in joining the commotion, but having over-salted her noodles that morning, she felt quite thirsty and, reluctantly, allowed Zhao Ting to pull her out of the office with her water bottle in hand.

At the peak of office hours, the reception area was unusually lively, everyone eagerly discussing something.

Seeing Fu Han emerge, the crowd’s gaze varied.

Su Cheng, however, showed great excitement, taking her outside the company doors to look.

To the left of the company’s entrance hung a sign about half a meter wide and over a meter tall, inscribed with “Cheng Lianhan Cultural Limited Company.”

Without turning around, Fu Han could acutely feel everyone’s burning stares behind her. Her face grew hot, and she masked her embarrassment with a cough, “That name is quite non-mainstream, it doesn’t sound good. Let’s stick with the original one.”

As the two were talking, they didn’t notice the nearby elevator doors open, and two men stepped out, one behind the other, the one in the lead being He Xing, dressed in a business suit.

With one glance, he saw the gilded signboard, a wave of icy disdain boiling up within him, as if to obliterate everything in this world.

There, Fu Han had managed to dismantle the “heart” under the character “Lian” using tools she found. Satisfied, she clapped her hands, “If you insist on not keeping the old name, let’s go with this one then.”

Su Cheng stood dumbfounded, looking at the noticeable gap between the words “Cheng,” “Yihan,” and “Han,” feeling as if his heart had been gouged out.

Time rewound to a few months prior, when he learned of Fu Han’s impending return to the country and, unable to control his emotions, he intercepted Fu Han and laid bare his feelings for her.

Now, that heartache had not subsided in the slightest as he recalled the moment.

What was today’s incident, compared to that day? The rejection in a public setting was the same.

But should he give up just like that? Of course not; the war wasn’t over yet.