The Villainess's Uncle 09

"Xiao Xiao! I've lived my whole life for you! Without you, my existence is meaningless!" He grabbed Fang Xiaoxiao's shoulders, drenched from head to toe. Fang Xiaoxiao struggled briefly, eyeing her now-ruined dry clothes with dismay.

"Let go of me!"

Qin Lan caught up from behind: "Tingxiu! Stop making a scene! She’s not worthy of your love! She—she was already defiled in that brothel!"

Fu Tingxiu’s face twisted in disbelief, just as a thunderclap boomed overhead.

"No, I don’t believe it. Xiao Xiao, tell me!"

Fang Xiaoxiao finally snapped, wrenching herself free: "Are you both insane? Qin Lan! I worked in that brothel serving tea, but I was never sullied! When that drunkard tried to assault you, I was the one who protected you! And now you slander me? You ran away and left me behind—my uncle was the one who saved me!"

Fu Tingxiu stared between Qin Lan and Fang Xiaoxiao, stunned. Qin Lan sobbed uncontrollably in the rain.

"Xiao Xiao, if that’s true, why won’t you accept me? Do you think you’re beneath me?"

Slap! Fang Xiaoxiao blinked—she’d barely raised her hand, yet the crisp sound of a slap echoed. Beside her, the chauffeur glared, umbrella in hand: "Take your madness elsewhere! Don’t harass our young lady!"

Fang Xiaoxiao made an unladylike gesture, spat at the pair, and strode to the car without a backward glance.

Fu Tingxiu stood frozen as the car sped away, while Qin Lan’s face darkened with venom.

Under the eaves, unnoticed, Gu Yongchen watched everything unfold.

That evening, Huang Li clenched her fists as Fang Xiaoxiao recounted the day: "Miss! Starting tomorrow, I’m sticking to you like glue! That scoundrel and that scheming white lotus deserve a beating!"

Fang Xiaoxiao chuckled. "The chauffeur already took care of it."

"Then we’ll beat them every time they show their faces!"

Fang Zhiyi narrowed his eyes, recalling a famous line.

"The weather’s turned cold. The Fu Family should go bankrupt."

The next morning, the rain finally ceased. He Wenpei emerged from a dingy inn, scowling—the innkeeper had confiscated his coat. Cursing under his breath, he plotted his next move. The woman’s suggestion was to publish a sob story in the papers about being abandoned by his daughter, but he’d concocted something juicier: smearing the Fang Family with scandal.

An uncle and niece in an illicit affair! He smirked. To clear their names, they’d have to beg for his help. He could already picture himself, well-dressed, "graciously" vouching for Fang Zhiyi and Fang Xiaoxiao.

Then—crack! Darkness swallowed him as two men in blue tunics dragged him into a waiting cart.

The Qin and Fu Families were Jiang City’s textile titans, hence their alliance through marriage. But lately, their fortunes had soured. Small workshops they’d agreed to buy backed out overnight. Shipments were halted—inspectors stabbed their pristine fabrics with sharp probes, claiming to search for contraband, leaving the goods ruined.

Even their storefronts suffered. Customers accused their cloth of causing rashes, sparking protests that cratered sales.

Both families knew they’d crossed someone powerful, yet their connections yielded no answers. Finally, an old friend tipped off Grandpa Qin:

"This mess? You’ll need to see Second Master Fang."

Grandpa Qin was baffled. He knew of Fang Zhiyi—a foreign medicine peddler—but they’d never interacted. Still, he arranged a discreet meeting.

Fang Zhiyi received him cordially. Behind closed doors, their discussion left Grandpa Qin storming home in fury.

By day’s end, rumors spread: the Qin Family’s third branch—Qin Lan, her parents, and brother—were exiled to a remote town. Qin Lan, eyes swollen from crying, couldn’t fathom how chasing "true love" had doomed her family. Why would Grandpa Qin banish them over Fang Xiaoxiao?

The Qin Family’s business slowly stabilized, though never fully recovered. Fang Zhiyi had bought those workshops, offering former owners stakes, ensuring their loyalty—and carving out market share.

The Fu Family, clueless and cut off from the Qins after Qin Lan’s exile, swallowed their pride and inquired. The answer? See Fang Zhiyi.

Fang Zhiyi was less accommodating this time. The Fu Family had only one heir: Fu Tingxiu.

Learning his grandson had provoked Fang Zhiyi’s niece, Grandpa Fu called him a tyrant and stormed out.

But Fang Zhiyi had already unearthed Fu Tingxiu’s illegitimate half-brother. With fanfare, he delivered the boy to the Fu doorstep.

Chaos ensued. Fu Tingxiu, too busy fending off his rival, forgot his heartbreak.

Fang Zhiyi knew this wasn’t enough. He pressured the Fu Family’s collateral branches—relatives controlling their textile trade. Threats and bribes turned these opportunists.

Soon, Fu Tingxiu too was exiled. Grandpa Fu began grooming the bastard heir.

The Fu Family, though humbled, clung to remnants of their former glory.

In a dim cell, Fang Zhiyi eyed the broken man before him. "Do you understand your mistakes now?"

He Wenpei slurred through split lips: "I’ll disappear... forever... just let me go..."

An attendant mimed slitting a throat. "Boss Fang, should we...?"

Fang Zhiyi shook his head. "Death’s too kind." He stood. "Cut out his tongue. Send him to the coal mines."

"One more to go. The most cunning of them all," Fang Zhiyi murmured.

The system piped up: Host, watching you take revenge is so satisfying.

"You don’t know the first thing about satisfaction."

"I do! After a few more worlds, I’ll even understand love!"

"Oh?" Fang Zhiyi arched a brow. The system, realizing its slip, flailed imaginary limbs.

"Stop flapping. You don’t even have a mouth."

In a shadowed room, Gu Yongchen drained a bottle and smashed it against the wall. "Fang Xiaoxiao! This is all your fault! If not for you, Lan Lan wouldn’t have been sent away! I’ll make you—" His gaze fell on a dagger gleaming atop the table.