The Richest Billionaire is My Accidental Husband-Chapter 417 - A Gentleman’s Revenge is Not Too Late Even After Ten Years!_1
Chapter 417: Chapter 417 A Gentleman’s Revenge is Not Too Late Even After Ten Years!_1
Ye Junqing took a deep breath, composed himself again and again, reminding himself that Fu Zhuo’s father had sacrificed his life to block a bullet for his father. He should be kind to Fu Zhuo. But in the end, the calmness he mustered up led to an explosive outburst. Just what karma had he accumulated in his previous life that he ended up with Fu Zhuo as a brother – never accomplishing anything himself but always messing up what others were doing!
Thinking about the harsh words he had just hurled at Xiao Yuyu, Ye Junqing was racked with regret. Immediately turning around, he headed back to the villa.
It wasn’t Xiao Yuyu who didn’t make sense—it was him! He must be a total idiot, not even realizing he had been disguised!
Almost at the villa, though feeling deep regret, Ye Junqing suddenly stopped once again, turned around, and briskly left the hospital.
Ji Qishu, worried, followed him. Seeing Ye Junqing get in the car, Ji Qishu opened the passenger door and sat in. “Brother Qing, where are we going? You’re not thinking of settling scores with Fu Zhuo, are you? That incident didn’t have a major impact. You should forgive and forget, give Fu Zhuo a break. After all, it’s been ten years since it happened…”
Ye Junqing held the steering wheel tightly, suddenly started laughing, his laugh tinged with irony and contempt.
Ji Qishu: “…”
Why is Brother Qing laughing like this?
After his anger had dissipated, and remembering how Xiao Yuyu had faithfully burnt joss paper for him every year, Ye Junqing gripped the steering wheel with one hand while the other hovered over his lips. Despite his efforts to suppress it, he barely concealed his good humor. It felt as if a warm spring breeze had swept over him…
However, hearing Ji Qishu’s words, his expression immediately cools and he throws out a comment: “Revenge is a dish best served cold – even if it takes ten years!”
Ji Qishu: “…”
At a loss for words, he surreptitiously sends Fu Zhuo a WeChat message.
Ji Qishu: [Run! Brother Qing is coming to take revenge on you!]
Fu Zhuo: [Why? Mr. Qing is not a petty man.]
Ji Qishu: [Brother Qing said, “Revenge is a dish best served cold – even if it takes ten years.” If I were you, I’d get a plane ticket and flee as far away as possible, and return only after Brother Qing has cooled down.]
Fu Zhuo, brimming with confidence: [There’s so much going on in the company, Brother Qing can’t do without me.]
Ji Qishu: [Well, I’ve informed you. Believe it or not is up to you. If worst comes to worst, I’ll burn you some joss paper at the Ghost Festival next year.]
Given the gravity of the situation, Fu Zhuo had to take it seriously. He immediately found a suitcase in the changing room and started packing his clothes, while continuing to send messages to Ji Qishu.
Fu Zhuo: [Brother, where should I run to?]
Ji Qishu: [Find some place with a desert and primitive tribes, where communication and transportation are difficult, and a place that will be hard to find.]
Shuuu—
Ye Junqing abruptly braked. He skillfully turned the steering wheel a few times and parked the car by the roadside. Then, opening the car door, he strode with an air of urgency mixed with elegance into a flower shop at the roadside.
Uh
Ji Qishu: [Brother, I seem to have misunderstood. You were right, you don’t need to run. Brother Qing isn’t coming for you. He just went into a flower shop. Don’t worry, don’t worry, not at all.]
As if Fu Zhuo had a sudden reversal of fortune: [I have been saying this all along. Mr. Qing wouldn’t treat me like that.]
Once he sent the WeChat message, he carefree put the suitcase back where it belonged.
In the flower shop, the sales assistant recognized Ye Junqing immediately and greeted him with flushed cheeks, “Sir, are you here to buy flowers? Who would you like to give them to? I can give you some suggestions.”
Ye Junqing’s thin lips formed a straight line as he glanced at the various flowers and their symbolic meanings in the shop, and ordered, “Give me eight red roses.”
