Song Zeyuan wanted to say something, but when he opened his mouth, blood gushed out and he could not utter a word. He could only stare at Fu Yanlin with hatred burning in his bloodshot eyes.
Fu Yanlin had survived the last decade by constantly being in danger, so what hadn't he seen? He wasn't afraid of Song Zeyuan's current stare, let alone the thought of him living to seek revenge on him someday.
His thin lips moved slightly, sneering, "If it wasn't for Changjing Capital's anniversary, you'd already be dead."
Today was Changjing Capital's anniversary, and many people were present. If things got out of hand, Fu Yanlin was not afraid of the situation, but it would make Wen Sheng look bad.
What would people outside think of Wen Sheng then?
No matter what, Fu Yanlin would never let such a situation happen.
He couldn't bear to see Wen Sheng at the centre of the storm, subjected to endless rumours and speculation.
For that reason, he had let Song Zeyuan off so easily.
