Chapter 12

Since Qu Fang posted photos of me in luxury cars on the intranet, I paid someone to hack her computer and leaked her chat logs with those old men. This time, I didn’t stay anonymous. I openly and boldly posted my driver’s license and real estate deeds, high-profilely announcing that I was the actual rich heir, while she was the one being kept by men.

This threw the school into an even bigger uproar. Especially the guys who had flirted with her or were currently dating her—they angrily cursed at her outside the girls’ dorm building. The person in question, Qu Fang, was already nowhere to be found.

I figured she would drop out soon.

From Assistant Sun, I learned she hadn’t been to the company in a long time.

I thought the public opinion backlash had given her a sense of shame, making her back down.

I didn’t expect that I had overestimated Qu Fang’s humanity.

One day, our housekeeper called me.

“Beibei, come quick, your mom fainted.”

Her tone was filled with anxiety and panic. On the other end of the line, I could hear a woman’s shrill screams. I recognized it—it was Qu Fang.

She had actually found her way to my house. What, was she trying to force her way in as the mistress?

I didn’t bother packing; I just threw on my clothes, grabbed a cab, and rushed straight home.

When I got back, I found Qu Fang sprawling brazenly on my family’s leather sofa, humming a tune and eating fruit.

Thankfully, I had brought the neighborhood security guards with me. Pointing at her, I yelled, “That’s her! Trespassing on private property without permission!”

Hearing my voice, Qu Fang sat up, unable to hide the shock in her eyes.

“You, you’re… you’re his daughter?”

I dropped the act. “Yes, so get the hell out before I call the cops.”

She was only shocked for a moment. Recovering herself, she plopped back down and sneered:

“You’ve enjoyed this life for so long. Now it’s my turn to enjoy it.”

“Bullshit!”

I lunged forward and grabbed her by the hair. Seeing the situation, the two security guards also stepped in, grabbing her arms to drag her out. Good, the money I spent on them earlier wasn’t wasted.

Before we even reached the door, my dad’s voice boomed from upstairs, “Have you caused enough of a scene?!”

Everyone stopped. I was still slapping her face while she slumped on the floor, weeping pitifully.

“I asked if you’ve caused enough of a scene!”

My dad bounded over, pulled me off her roughly, and slapped me across the face.

The impact threw me to the ground. Holding my cheek, I forgot to even cry.

Growing up, though he neglected to discipline me and wasn’t particularly affectionate, he was always generous with money and never made things difficult for me. If my grades were bad, he sent me abroad. If teachers complained, he sent more gifts.

I never thought he would hit me.

Because of this woman!