Yu Zhehan studied Liu Yizhou’s expression as he relayed the entire incident.
After hearing it, Liu Yizhou pressed his lips together.
Affair? Mistress? No one knew better than him—he hadn’t spent a single penny on her these past months. That woman was stubborn to her core, fiercely proud.
Liu Yizhou couldn’t even imagine how someone like her would react to such a scandal.
“Sorry, I have something urgent to handle.” His thoughts consumed by Ye Shaohua, Liu Yizhou didn’t spare Zhao Yijun a glance, let alone offer comfort.
Yu Zhehan chased after him. “Yizhou, what the hell are you doing?”
“I—” Liu Yizhou froze.
“I thought you were just toying with Ye Shaohua. Don’t tell me you’ve actually fallen for her? How can you do this to Yijun?” Yu Zhehan glared coldly. “If it weren’t for her back then, we would’ve—”
“I know.” Liu Yizhou massaged his temples. “Yijun, I owe you an apology. I admit I couldn’t handle your leaving at the time.”
Hospital Room
At Ye Shaohua’s insistence, Mother Ye had stayed in the hospital. When Old Master Zhao arrived, she was clutching an old photograph, lost in thought.
The sound of the door swinging open startled her. She hastily stuffed the photo under her pillow and looked up—only to pale at the sight of the man who had once crushed her dignity underfoot.
“You… Why are you here?”
Madam Zhao, trailing behind Old Master Zhao, wrinkled her nose at the cramped single room. “Oh? Guilty conscience, Ye Dongxiang?” she sneered.
Mother Ye’s fingers tightened around the bedsheet.
Old Master Zhao eyed her disdainfully. “Name your price to leave the capital.”
“Leave?” Mother Ye blinked, uncomprehending.
“Don’t tell me you still dream of joining the Zhao family.” His murky gaze burned with hatred. “That will never happen. Take your daughter and get out. Must you ruin my granddaughter’s life? Truly, a whore’s spawn stays a whore. Our Zhao bloodline has no place for shameless trash like you.”
Mother Ye jolted as if struck. “Shaohua would never—!”
“Never?” Old Master Zhao scoffed. “Then explain those indecent photos all over the news! Listen well, Ye Dongxiang—I won’t let you and your daughter destroy our family again. You have three days to disappear. Unless… you’d prefer your dirty past exposed to the world? Your daughter may be an S University graduate, but how long will that last once everyone knows she’s the child of a dockside dancehall girl? Imagine the scorn!”
Mother Ye’s face drained of color.
Every ounce of her shame was laid bare, her hard-won dignity trampled anew. After twenty years of struggle, she remained powerless before them.
The Zhao family loomed over her like judges, their contempt a living thing.
Only after reducing Mother Ye to trembling silence did Old Master Zhao hobble out with his cane.
Madam Zhao lingered, stilettoes clicking as she leaned in. “Did you really think marrying Zhao Yan would elevate you above me?” Her smile was venomous. “Now he’s dead, and your daughter will never compare to mine. Zhao Yan must’ve committed atrocities in a past life to sire such a disgrace with you. If I were him, I’d have smothered that bastard child at birth. Tell me—don’t you think he’s cursing you from the grave for what you’ve made of his daughter?”
Without waiting for a reply, she strode out, leaving Mother Ye ashen-faced.
…
In the age of viral scandals, Ye Shaohua’s name trended nationwide. Strangers pointed and jeered at her in the streets.
The public expected tears, pleas for sympathy—yet she remained silent.
Her social media accounts, leaked and besieged by trolls, saw follower counts explode from dozens to tens of thousands overnight.
Then, after days of silence, she posted:
🔹 “Truth needs no defense. Live broadcast tomorrow at 10 AM.” 🔹
The internet erupted.
▶ “LOL trying to debut as an influencer now? Can’t wait to see her mental gymnastics tomorrow!”
▶ “Disgusting. Clout-chasing won’t save you—unfollowing after this circus!”
The real earthquake came when Fenghua Group, Asia’s top conglomerate, shared her post.
Twitter servers crashed.
▶ “FENGHUA’S CEO HAS LOST HIS MIND?!”
Among the tidal wave of attention was Zhao Yijun, who monitored every move of her doppelgänger.
“A live broadcast? She thinks she’s a celebrity?” Yi Xian snorted. “More viewers just mean more people to hate her.”
Yu Zhehan scowled. “That Fenghua intern she screwed probably pulled strings to repost this. Ugh—sharing Yijun’s face is an insult.”
Zhao Yijun sighed. “I’ve met that assistant. But not even Fenghua’s PR can salvage this…”
“With this much evidence, how could she possibly recover?” Yi Xian smirked.
Lowering her eyes, Zhao Yijun allowed herself a small, triumphant smile.
