Chapter 58 Hanging Up

The phone rang several times. Jo Wine had already thought out how she would interrogate Lu Fengzhou and how she would mock him.
But unexpectedly, the call was hung up immediately.
Not as if he hadn’t heard it, but as if he had deliberately ended the call.
Guan Wei suddenly became spirited, “What does that mean? He hung up on you. Is he feeling guilty?”
That was unlikely. Lu Fengzhou was the kind of man who could argue even when he was clearly in the wrong. If he ever felt guilty, he wouldn’t dare show his face in front of her.
Jo Wine put her phone down. “He probably just doesn’t want to answer.”
Guan Wei gritted her teeth. “He’s really something, isn’t he?”
Jo Wine glanced at the surveillance screen. He had gotten into his car and driven away, and it looked like there was no one else with him.
She said, “Forget it. It’s no big deal anyway. If I really need to, I’ll ask him when we meet next time.”
She noted down the license plate, and the two of them left the security room.
Guan Wei had to go keep Liang Xiujin company. Jo Wine thought for a moment, not wanting to return to the kitchen. “I’m heading home. I’m resigning anyway, so I’ll leave early today.”
“Fine, fine,” Guan Wei said. “Do as you please.”
They parted ways at the elevator. Jo Wine went downstairs, hesitated in the lobby, then turned toward the cocktail bar.
Jiang Morning was mixing drinks. Several women sat at the high counter in front of him, each inventing conversation to flirt with him.
Jo Wine watched from a distance. There were two bartenders; the other looked decent, but seemed reserved and serious.
Jiang Morning, on the other hand, was a bit lazy, with an air of casual indifference.
Perhaps it was this attitude that made him more attractive; there were clearly more women gathered around him than the other bartender.
He finished preparing a drink, slid it to a woman, and as he looked up, caught sight of Jo Wine.
Jo Wine raised her hand in farewell, then pointed outside, meaning to tell him she was leaving.
Jiang Morning was busy but nodded back.
She left the bar, and as she stood by the road hailing a taxi, some fleeting thought flashed through her mind.
There had once been a scandal in the Jiang family of East City. She wasn’t sure if her memory was muddled, but one of the names involved had sounded a lot like Jiang Morning’s.
...
Lu Fengzhou stood by the window, his phone resting quietly on the sill.
He knew that woman had no patience—she’d only call once, and if he didn’t answer, she’d give up.
He waited a while longer, but couldn’t hold himself back. He grabbed his phone and strode out of the office.
He went downstairs and got into his car, but before he could start the engine, someone suddenly knocked on the passenger window.
Lu Fengzhou was startled. He turned and saw Song Wan standing outside.
He unlocked the car. “What are you doing here?”
Song Wan, bundled up, hurried in, removing her mask and sunglasses. “I texted you just now. Maybe you didn’t see it.”
Lu Fengzhou had seen it. He just hadn’t wanted to reply.
Song Wan looked at him pitifully. “Azhou, are you still angry with me?”
Lu Fengzhou said nothing, so Song Wan continued, “Why are you angry? Is it because I went to see Miss Jo, or because I mistakenly thought someone spent the night at her place?”
Her eyes were reddening. “You two are divorced now. Why are you still so furious with me over her?”
Lu Fengzhou withdrew his gaze, didn’t start the car, and said, “I had them arrange a perfume endorsement for you. Promotion should start these days. Your foot’s healed, so try to cooperate. Your reputation was finally restored—don’t let anything go wrong again.”
His words had nothing to do with Song Wan’s questions.
She understood he didn’t want to answer.
She took a breath. Normally, she would have tactfully stopped asking, but today she couldn’t control herself. “You’re divorced, yet she still clings on. I knew she wouldn’t give up easily. Years ago, she shamelessly forced you to marry her, using her father’s influence.”
Without giving Lu Fengzhou a chance to speak, she continued, “If it weren’t for her family, you wouldn’t be living like this—broken home, ruined family, married to the woman you despise most.”
Lu Fengzhou’s expression was cold and impassive, but his voice carried a hint of displeasure. “Get out.”
Song Wan shuddered, wanting to say more but too afraid.
Lu Fengzhou waited a few seconds. Seeing no response, his voice dropped even lower, almost a growl, “Get out.”
This time Song Wan didn’t tremble, but her body reacted. She reached out and opened the car door.
She seemed frightened, eyes brimming with tears.
Lu Fengzhou didn’t look at her. He waited for the door to close, then started the car and sped away.
He felt irritable—not because of Song Wan’s words, but simply because he was annoyed.
He drove aimlessly, circling around without purpose, until his mood finally led him to stop along a street.
He switched off the engine, turned off the interior light, cracked the window, and lit a cigarette.
As he smoked, his brow furrowed slightly. Unbidden, memories flooded his mind.
He was unwilling to recall the past—not that there hadn’t been moments of happiness, but despair and hatred always overshadowed them.
No matter what he remembered, those feelings were always there, impossible to avoid.
After finishing his cigarette, he closed his eyes, intending to nap for a moment, but within minutes, he heard a taxi pull up nearby.
Lu Fengzhou half-turned his head and saw Jo Wine stepping out, phone pressed to her ear.
Under the dim streetlight, her smile was clear and unmistakable.
He used to see that smile often when they were married.
She was carefree, never burdened by sadness. Even when he deliberately came home late, unwilling to face her, she seemed oblivious, rushing up to hug him, saying he must be exhausted from work.
At those moments, his heart was full of scorn.
He’d never met a woman so foolish. Her company was about to be swallowed up by him, yet she still smiled, convinced she was happy.
The taxi drove away, and Jo Wine turned toward her building. After a while, he saw a window upstairs light up.
Jo Wine was still on the phone as she appeared at the window, reaching for the curtains. Something amusing must have been said, for she paused, clutching the curtain, standing there by the window.
A surge of inexplicable irritation rose within him. Lu Fengzhou lit another cigarette, opened the car door, and stepped out.
Upstairs, Jo Wine was laughing on the phone, saying, “Wouldn’t that be a bit improper?”
Liang Xiucheng replied, “It’s fine. Just come to me when you need something. I’ve already spoken to my family.”
Jo Wine considered it. “Alright.”
They chatted a little longer. Then Mrs. Liang’s voice called him away, and the call ended.
Jo Wine held the curtain, about to close it, and her eyes naturally dropped to the street below—then she stopped, motionless.