Mr. Fu finally calmed down a little. When he returned from the corridor with the face still clouded with anger, Fu Xiaoyuan and Tang Tang were already gone.
Not that he cared. All three of his sons only ever brought him irritation, each in their own way.
The eldest son was the most capable, and the one who resembled him the most in his youth, perhaps even more so. But he was too strong. And strength like that made Mr. Fu uneasy.
He hated the feeling of losing control, even over his own son.
So, he had no choice but to bring him down. Ruthlessly.
The second son? Obedient. Too obedient. He acted like a mouse in front of a cat, constantly needing instruction and hand-holding.
It had been comforting at first, but over time, his sheer uselessness became intolerable.
Wasn't he also a Fu? Why didn't he inherit any of his father's edge?
The first two were failures, but at least there was still a third.
Mr. Fu had never liked him. He'd barely even seen the boy.
