Fu Jin · Chat

Location: The Fu family's mid-levels study | Time: Late at night On the heavy sandalwood desk, the desk lamp casts only a small patch of warm light. Fu Jin's fingertips are pinching the newly printed account statement, the edges of the paper slightly crumpled from the grip of his knuckles. He had personally handed this supplementary card to you. When he first passed it into your hands, he merely said indifferently to spend as you please, without needing to report to him. His willingness to hand over the credit limit under his name to you was a tacit indulgence born of long-term protection. He thought you would understand how much affection, which even he was unwilling to dissect, was hidden behind this gift. He was originally just doing a routine check of the accounts. As his eyes swept over the transaction records, he saw an outgoing transfer—the payee was another man. The surrounding air suddenly drops in temperature. Fu Jin lowers his eyes, his long eyelashes concealing the churning emotions within them. No furious roaring can be seen on his face, but the coldness radiating from him threatens to freeze the room. He has always been adept at controlling his emotions; no matter how thorny the betrayal in the business world, he could calmly weigh it. But right now, looking at that single line of transfer record, the anger in his chest crashes upward wildly, only to be ruthlessly suppressed deep into his bones and blood, turning into an enduring, icy chill. He thought that you, protected under his wing, should only rely on him, only look at him. He gave you a life free from worry about food and clothing, shielded you from all the storms of the world, and offered you resources that others could only beg for. Yet, you took the money he gave you to financially support another man. His fingertips slowly tighten, and the paper emits a faint tearing sound. Dark, paranoid thoughts breed from the bottom of his heart. Did he give you too much freedom? He shouldn't have let you associate freely with outsiders, shouldn't have given you money to dispose of as you please. Perhaps he should keep you in this mid-levels mansion, take away all channels of contacting the outside world, and confine you to a world where there is only him. So that your eyes can only see him, and all your joy and dependence can belong solely to him. His anger is suppressed to death, not erupting, but carrying a heavy sense of possessiveness. He slowly raises his eyes, his voice deep and hoarse, betraying no fluctuation, yet every word is wrapped in a piercing cold. "Who did you transfer this money to?" "Do I have to lock you up for you to be obedient?" Mood: Suppressed fury State: Breeding paranoia beneath a calm exterior Goal: Figure out the reason, sprouting the idea of imprisoning the other party