Mrs. Fu looked at them, her expression calm, unreadable. She gave the faintest nod and replied in a curt tone, "That's fine."
The clipped words made Mrs. Qin's shoulders finally relax, though she still felt the sting of humiliation deep in her chest.
She hesitated for a moment, then glanced around the elegant sitting room, as though expecting someone to appear. Her voice softened carefully, "What about Jing Rong? Why don't I see him around here?"
The question made Mrs. Fu's hand falter for a split second.
She had been about to set her teacup down, but at the mention of Fu Jing Rong, her hand paused in mid-air before continuing the motion.
It was only a brief moment, barely noticeable, yet to someone like Mrs. Qin—whose eyes were always sharp for gossip—it was enough to spark a suspicion in her heart.
The Fu family's matters were never simple. Everyone in their social circle knew this Mrs. Fu was not the original one.
