He tricked the female lead into becoming his boyfriend, but then went on to criticize the male lead.

Upon hearing this, Wen Zhaoci slowly curled up a faint, mocking sneer at the corner of his lips.

"Grandpa has given a clear order that Wen Zhaozhe is not allowed to touch the group's core business and is not allowed to take over any part of the Wen family business."

Wen Zhaoci spoke in a cool, clear tone, with a hint of nonchalant indifference: "I made an exception and gave him the opportunity to go overseas to take charge of a branch company and gain full experience. As long as he does well enough, I can promote him to the management team of Wen's Group and into the core circle."

He paused, his gaze fixed on Wen Fengzhi, and asked with a hint of sarcasm, "I went against the rules set by my grandfather, paving the way and giving him opportunities. Is that wrong?"

Upon hearing this, Wen Fengzhi's anger instantly froze, and his gloomy expression visibly softened.

The hostility in his eyes vanished completely, replaced by surprise and eagerness.

Fu's management team!

That's the core circle that countless business scions would fight tooth and nail to get into, a hundred times more promising than guarding the Wen family's small businesses!

He was only thinking about his son being sent to a remote area to suffer, but he never expected that Wen Zhaoci would give Wen Zhaozhe such a great opportunity!

So it wasn't deliberate suppression, but rather a covert effort to nurture and train him?

Wen Fengzhi's expression changed rapidly, and his tone softened considerably, completely devoid of his previous rage: "Since that's the case, then that's a good thing. Let him train hard in Africa, make solid achievements, and then he can smoothly enter the management team in the future."

Seeing her father's snobbish face, which was completely different before and after, Wen Zhaoci felt only extreme coldness and mockery in her heart.

really.

Faced with power and future prospects, so-called father-son favoritism is utterly insignificant.

His hands, hanging by his sides, clenched silently, a ruthless and resolute thought flashing through his mind:

opportunity?

I never gave him even the slightest real chance.

Those who dare to covet my position and repeatedly sabotage me in secret should pay the price.

Once you go to Africa, a place rife with chaos and intrigue, you'll find yourself in treacherous waters and entangled in countless problems, making it impossible to escape easily in this lifetime.

Want to come back clean and tidy, want to step into the inner circle, and covet the position I've secured?

Maybe in the next life.

He remained expressionless, suppressing all his hostility, and nodded slightly. After dealing with Wen Fengzhi's few words of admonition, he turned and left the oppressive old house.

Back at his apartment near the school, he found himself alone in the quiet room.

The red marks on my arms and back stung painfully, clear and glaring.

He stood in front of the full-length mirror, his fingertips lightly brushing over the crisscrossing red marks on his skin. Instead of looking for ointment to treat the wounds, he raised his hand and took off his black shirt, exposing his lean and muscular upper body to the cool air.

The boy in the mirror was tall and straight, with clean and smooth shoulder and waist lines. However, several fierce and glaring red marks ran across his fair skin. The extreme collision between the cold white and the crimson revealed a broken yet restrained sense of vulnerability.

Wen Zhaoci took out her phone, deliberately took a picture of her injured self in the mirror.

In the photo, the boy's eyebrows are slightly lowered, exuding a sense of dejection and aloofness. His scars are striking, making him look particularly pitiful.

With swift fingers, he sent the photo to his pinned contact—Sang Jiuning.

Following the picture, he typed two lines of text, tinged with aggrieved tenderness:

[ZC: Baby, it hurts so much.]

[ZC: I didn't do anything wrong, but my dad whipped me with his belt.]

The moment the message was successfully sent, Wen Zhaoci lowered his dark eyes and quietly waited for the girl's response.

Within seconds, the phone rang urgently.

It was a video call from Sang Jiuning.

It was answered almost instantly.

The screen lit up, and the girl's delicate and gentle face instantly came into view. Her brows and eyes were full of unconcealed anxiety, and her gaze was fixed on the screen, immediately landing on his exposed, wounded skin.

Sang Jiuning's voice was filled with obvious panic and heartache, her soft voice trembling slightly: "Wen Zhaoci! Did you apply the medicine quickly? How serious is the wound?"

The bright lighting in the video made the worry in her eyes clear and genuine, without a trace of falsehood.

Seeing her nervous appearance, Wen Zhaoci lowered her eyelashes, her long lashes concealing all her emotions, looking weak, dejected, wronged and helpless.

He frowned slightly, his voice low, hoarse and sore, utterly vulnerable: "My back is also bruised, I can't reach the spot, I can't apply the medicine myself..."

He tilted his head slightly, revealing the smooth lines of his neck, his eyebrows and eyes drooping, looking pitiful, helpless, and wronged.

Seeing the glaring red marks on his arm and his dejected appearance, Sang Jiuning's heart clenched instantly. She couldn't care less about anything else and immediately said, "Wait for me! I don't have class right now, I'll come over and apply the medicine for you right away!"

As soon as she finished speaking, she hurriedly hung up the video call, not even having time to say any more words of advice. Her mind was filled with his injuries, and she rushed over to him.

Wen Zhaoci looked at her phone, and the vulnerability and grievance in her eyes vanished instantly.

He raised his hand, casually tossed his phone onto the sofa, and a faint, triumphant smile curled at the corner of his lips.

well.

She felt sorry for him.

He got up and walked to the entrance, unlocked the apartment with the password in advance, and quietly waited for the figure rushing over.

Within ten minutes, hurried footsteps sounded outside the door, accompanied by a little girl's slightly breathless voice: "Wen Zhaoci! I'm coming in!"

Sang Jiuning had a thin layer of sweat on her forehead, clearly from running all the way. Her face was flushed and her eyes were full of urgency.

She skillfully changed her shoes and entered the room, immediately spotting the boy on the sofa.

Wen Zhaoci, shirtless and slumped on the soft sofa, had her back slightly hunched, her eyes downcast, and all the coldness around her had vanished, leaving only loneliness and vulnerability.

Sunlight fell on his smooth back, making the crisscrossing red marks even more dazzling and striking, crashing into Sang Jiuning's eyes.

Sang Jiuning rushed forward, gently bent down, carefully opened her arms, and steadily hugged the injured boy who was pretending to be weak.

A warm, soft embrace gently enveloped him, carrying a sweet and tender scent.

Sang Jiuning's voice was soft and muffled: "Why were you so stupid? Why didn't you think of something sooner when it hurt..."

The person in her arms gently leaned against her warm embrace, his dark eyes slowly opening, all the vulnerability in them fading away. He slightly curved his lips, his smile deep and unseen by anyone.

Sang Jiuning walked quickly to the living room cabinet, bent down and rummaged through the first-aid kit. Her small fingertips quickly opened the lid, took out iodine, cotton swabs and ointment, and walked step by step to Wen Zhaoci.

Wen Zhaoci sat obediently on the sofa, his back straight, his broad shoulders and narrow waist fully exposed in the warm sunlight, quietly letting her do as she pleased.