After everything was taken away from her, she returned as a god

If Yuelan Jewelry and Jingcheng Real Estate were in Si Fuqing's hands, they would be bankrupt within a year.

Si Fuqing was a fool—neither skilled in literature nor martial arts—how could she possibly manage a company?

It would be useless if it fell into her hands.

Mrs. Zuo agreed with what she heard. She immediately found Si Fuqing's phone number and dialed it.

At that moment, Si Fuqing was bargaining with the owner of a hardware store:

"Boss, make it cheaper. These pliers are a little rusty here. Five yuan off won't hurt your business."

The shop owner looked at her worn-out canvas shoes, saw that she was just a young girl, and waved his hand helplessly:

"Fine, fine, take it, just take it."

Si Fuqing ended up buying a bunch of tools for fifty yuan. Her first successful bargaining attempt left her feeling quite accomplished.

So when her phone rang, she answered it without even checking the caller ID.

"Si Fuqing, come back later." Madam Zuo's voice carried a condescending tone from the other end of the call. "There's something at home we need to discuss with you. It's about your grandfather."

"You want me to go back? Sure." Si Fuqing flipped her hair and smiled. "Beg me, and I'll return."

A loud "clang" sounded over the phone before the call was abruptly disconnected, followed by a series of beeping noises.

Si Fuqing calmly blocked the number. "Is that all you've got?"

She slipped her phone back into her pocket and closed her eyes.

The Zuo family calling her back at this moment must have something to do with Mr. Zuo's will. He had likely left her a substantial inheritance.

She suspected that Mr. Zuo hadn't died of natural causes.

But what puzzled her was why Mr. Zuo had been so good to her.

She needed a reason to see his body.

Leaning against the wall, Si Fuqing looked up at the sky, lost in thought.

After an unknown amount of time, a surprised voice called out to her.

"Miss Si?"

She turned her head to see a black car parked in front of her.

The car window rolled down, revealing Feng San in the driver's seat.

He noticed the pile of hardware tools slung over her back—including a hammer—and paused for a moment before asking, "Miss Si, what are you doing here?"

"Oh." Si Fuqing sighed. "I came to admire the scenery in my sorrow. I even felt like reciting poetry. What a tragedy."

Feng San: "…"

"Don't mind me." Si Fuqing waved a hand dismissively. "Let me wallow in sadness for a while."

Before Feng San could respond, the back door of the car opened.

A man sat inside, dressed in a suit and tie, tall and slender.

He remained quiet in his seat, mottled light and shadows accentuating his straight nose, exuding an aura of nobility and elegance that seemed almost unreal.

Yu Xiheng glanced at her sideways and spoke in a deep, commanding voice:

"Get in the car."

Si Fuqing turned her head and, after a two-second pause, ran over happily, tossing the tools she had just bought into the trunk.

"Boss, you're so kind."

If she didn't take advantage of a golden opportunity, she'd be a fool.

Now that a fat sheep had come knocking, it would be a crime not to grab it.

The back seat was spacious. Si Fuqing sat on the other side, keeping half a meter of distance from Yu Xiheng, but his strong presence was undeniable.

A faint scent of osmanthus and moonlight lingered on him—subtle yet captivating, slowly enveloping her senses.

Just like him—low-key and mysterious.

Yu Xiheng closed his eyes. "Do you have work tomorrow?"

"Huh? Oh, right." Si Fuqing pointed at the advertisement playing on the screen in front of them. "I'm a mentor there."

The screen displayed a promotional clip for the talent show Youthful Boys, with Lu Yan in the center position, followed by Xie Yu.

After showcasing several popular trainees, the mentor panel appeared.

Si Fuqing's exaggerated, edgy makeup style stood out like a sore thumb among the four mentors.

Feng San's forehead twitched. "Miss Si, you don't even take off your makeup for a show?"

Most people wanted to look as angelic as possible, yet Si Fuqing seemed determined to make herself look worse and worse.

"Nope." Si Fuqing propped her chin up and said leisurely, "Why would I bother? Will anyone else pay me? Only the boss matters."

Feng San's expression stiffened. His heart skipped a beat, fearing for Si Fuqing's safety.

But unexpectedly, Yu Xiheng merely opened his eyes, gave her a brief glance, and said nothing.

Indeed.

Whether during his 27 years as Emperor Yin or in the present, none of the beauties he had encountered could compare to Si Fuqing.

She had a certain magic—just two or three words from her could make him relax.

Although thousands of years had passed since that tense era of war, his nerves remained perpetually strained.

Yet, on that day, something she said had actually allowed him to sleep peacefully for the first time in ages.

The promotional video continued playing on the screen. Si Fuqing sighed.

"Why are there so many untalented people in entertainment these days? How do they even get in?"

Feng San: "…"

Was she scolding herself?

Si Fuqing observed the fans taking pictures in front of the screen and reminisced.

Back when she performed in Glenn, all the actors around her had both top-tier acting skills and stunning looks.

Everyone was focused on honing their craft. Who had time for underhanded marketing tactics?

That was an era where strength spoke for itself.

A battle of gods. A peak showdown.

Yet, in the three years since she had left, Daxia's entertainment industry had not advanced at all—it had regressed.

She had spent too much time doing experiments. She hadn't acted or sung in a long time, and she missed it.

"Boss," Si Fuqing suddenly turned to Yu Xiheng with great interest, "Shall I sing a song for you? Something majestic?"

Feng San, who was driving, was puzzled. "Majestic? A battle song?"

Yu Xiheng lifted his eyes. His gaze was deep and unreadable, his tone indifferent yet carrying a hint of coldness.

"Drive carefully."

Feng San: "???"

What did he do?

Confused, Feng San drove with one hand while discreetly typing the word majestic into his phone with the other.

He accidentally stumbled upon the lyrics of I Want More.

A provocative and sensual song.

Feng San's face froze. "…"

Silently, he put his phone away and focused on driving.

—

After returning to her small apartment, Si Fuqing received another call from the Zuo family.

This time, it was Zuo Xianyu. Her voice was soft.

"Fuqing, please come back. It's urgent. If we can settle things properly, you can name any conditions you want."

"Grandfather will be buried soon. He wouldn't want to see you in such a miserable state."

Si Fuqing crossed her legs and smirked lazily. "Any conditions? I can ask for anything?"

The Zuo family wished for nothing more than her death.

Last time, they had tried to cut her wrists. Would they aim for her head this time?

Zuo Xianyu remained gentle. "Yes, Fuqing. Your family is waiting for you. If you're free, let's have dinner tonight."

The call ended quickly.

Zuo Tianfeng immediately asked, "Did she agree?"

Zuo Xianyu frowned. "She said she'd come."

"Good. Xianyu, you handled it well." Zuo Tianfeng was pleased. "Prepare the inheritance renunciation form. When she arrives, make her sign it."

Did Si Fuqing deserve to take anything from the Zuo family?

Feng San: The eternal suffering tool man.

Si Fuqing: I am favored!

Yu Xiheng: Indeed.