Ghost Exorciser: Is Loved By All-Chapter 797: Revenge

"We were hired," the man said, "by Yu Sicong."

Fu Jian’s breath caught.

"To protect you," the man finished, bowing slightly.

The hallway fell into stunned silence.

Old Master Fu’s face drained of color. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out. His usual calm had shattered.

Fu Jian blinked, still processing.

"You thought I would repeat the same mistake again, right, Old Master Fu?" A smug voice sounded.

"You thought I would repeat the same mistake again, right, Old Master Fu?"A smug voice echoed down the hall.

Both Fu Jian and Old Master Fu turned sharply.

Standing at the far end of the corridor, dressed in sleek black and surrounded by a second line of bodyguards, was Yu Sicong. Calm. Confident.

With a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Fu Jian’s eyes widened, but he wasn’t surprised. Not really.

Yu Sicong walked toward them with an easy, casual stride, like he had all the time in the world.

Like this wasn’t a dramatic standoff, but just a casual stroll through his own house.

As he neared, his eyes locked on Fu Jian.

"I already guessed he’d come to find you," Sicong said smoothly.

"But I didn’t want to send my guards too early. I needed to be sure you actually showed up."

Fu Jian rolled his eyes. "As a probation boyfriend, you’re doing pretty well."

Sicong grinned. "Probation, huh? Well, I think I deserve some kind of reward for this kind of service."

Fu Jian ignored him, though the corners of his lips twitched slightly.

Old Master Fu, still pale, stepped forward stiffly.

"Since we’re family now..." he began, his voice strained but polite, "perhaps you could... show some mercy to Fu Corp. We are, after all, in-laws."

Yu Sicong tilted his head, a faint laugh escaping him. "In-laws?" he repeated.

He turned fully to face the old man now, his eyes sharp.

"What kind of relationship do we have, exactly? Didn’t you break all ties with Fu Jian? Threw him out. Humiliated him. Threatened him just a few minutes ago."

Old Master Fu’s face twitched, but he forced a smile.

"We can fix that. If you want, I can return Fu Jian’s rights to the family—give you everything that should’ve been his."

He took a half-step forward.

"I can even arrange for the two of you to get married," he added smoothly. "If you’d like, I’ll make him marry you."

Yu Sicong’s smile vanished.

For a second, the air turned heavy.

He stared at Old Master Fu with pure disdain, like the man in front of him was filth he didn’t want to step on.

"I want to marry him," Yu Sicong said, voice low.

"But I will never force him."

Old Master Fu flinched.

Yu Sicong looked away from him and turned back to Fu Jian, his expression softening.

"I’m not like you," he said, clearly and firmly. "I don’t chain people to me out of fear. If he wants to stay with me, it’ll be because he chooses to."

Old Master Fu’s face tightened as Yu Sicong turned away from him.

"I’m warning you," the old man said, his voice shaking slightly. "If you don’t give me a way out of this... I’ll take extreme measures."

Yu Sicong paused mid-step. Slowly, he looked back, his eyes glinting with cold amusement.

"Extreme measures?" he repeated, voice low and sharp. "Go ahead and try."

He took a step toward the old man.

"But I promise you—if you so much as lift a finger against me or Fu Jian again, I’ll bury Fu Corporation so deep not even your ancestors will recognize it."

Old Master Fu’s breath hitched. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

"You think I can’t?" Yu Sicong continued, his smirk turning dark. "I’ve already got two of your subsidiaries on the brink. You know how easy it is to tip the rest over."

There was a beat of silence—then, all at once, Old Master Fu’s legs gave out. He collapsed to the floor with a thud, eyes wide, hands trembling.

Fu Jian glanced at the old man with a flicker of surprise, but he didn’t say a word. He just turned toward Sicong.

"Let’s go," Yu Sicong said, reaching for his hand.

Fu Jian hesitated for half a second, then let him.

Together, they walked away, the sound of their footsteps echoing down the hall.

Behind them, Old Master Fu sat slumped on the marble floor, his once-powerful gaze now dark and vengeful. His eyes locked on their backs as they disappeared into the elevator.

"I’ll make you pay," he muttered under his breath. "Both of you."

.......................

In the quiet of one of the upstairs rooms, the air was still. The tension from earlier now melted into something warmer, quieter.

Yu Sicong pulled Fu Jian in by the wrist, shutting the door behind them with a soft click.

Before Fu Jian could ask anything, Sicong turned, wrapped his arms around him, and kissed him.

It wasn’t rushed—it was steady, deliberate, full of the emotion he hadn’t had time to show back there.

Fu Jian’s eyes widened slightly, caught off guard, but he didn’t pull away. Not this time.

When Sicong finally pulled back, his lips were close to Fu Jian’s ear.

"That," he said in a low whisper, "was my reward."

Fu Jian blinked, cheeks just a little red. "You’re shameless."

Sicong grinned. "You said I was doing well for a probation boyfriend. I’m just cashing in."

For the next month, life settled into an oddly sweet rhythm.

Everywhere Fu Jian went, Yu Sicong somehow appeared—usually with a smug grin and something annoyingly thoughtful in hand.

If Fu Jian forgot lunch? Sicong would show up at his office with hot takeout, always right when he was about to faint from hunger.

If he worked late and skipped dinner? Sicong would appear at the door with a bag of groceries and say,

"Eat this or I’m calling your doctor."

And when Fu Jian struggled with launching his new company, frustrated by budget sheets and hiring decisions, Yu Sicong would casually lean over his shoulder, point at a few things, and somehow make everything make sense.

It was weirdly comforting. Even when it was annoying.

"Why do you even know all this?"

Fu Jian had asked one night, glaring at the perfect marketing proposal Sicong had rewritten in five minutes.

Sicong just raised an eyebrow.

"Because I don’t play around. And because I want your company to succeed, obviously."

Fu Jian rolled his eyes, but he didn’t argue.

He was starting to get used to this—having someone beside him. Someone who didn’t just claim to care, but actually showed it, quietly and consistently.

...............................

It was a rainy Thursday afternoon when Fu Jian got the call.

He was in the middle of reviewing contracts when his phone buzzed with a number he didn’t recognize.

He almost ignored it—but something made him answer.

"Hello?"

"Is this Fu Jian?" a voice asked. It was low and unfamiliar.

"Yes. Who is this?"

There was a pause. Then:

"Yu Sicong’s been in an accident. He’s at Lijing Hospital. You should come."

The line went dead.

Fu Jian stared at his phone, heart thudding painfully in his chest.

For a few seconds, he couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

Then he was on his feet, grabbing his keys and running out the door.

......................................

Rain blurred the car windows as he sped toward Lijing Hospital, fingers clenched around the steering wheel.

Accident? What kind of accident? Was it bad? Why hadn’t anyone called sooner?

A dozen horrible thoughts raced through his mind as the city passed by in a stormy blur.

When he finally reached the hospital, he jumped out of the car, barely even parking properly. He ran through the entrance, scanning the crowd, heart pounding.

"Excuse me," he said breathlessly to the receptionist. "I’m looking for someone—Yu Sicong. He was brought in a little while ago—"

But before the receptionist could answer, someone tapped his shoulder.

He turned.

A man in a gray coat stood there. Smiling.

"Fu Jian?"

"Yes—?"

Something sharp jabbed into his neck.

His vision spun. His legs gave out.

The last thing he saw before the world went black was the man’s cold smile and two others stepping in from the shadows, grabbing his arms.

..............................

Fu Jian’s head throbbed. His arms were sore. The air smelled like rust and oil.

He blinked a few times, forcing his eyes to focus.

Cold concrete. Metal walls. Dim overhead light.

He was in some kind of... warehouse. Old, abandoned, and echoing with distant drips of water. His hands were tied behind the back of a metal chair, and his ankles were bound too.

Panic crept up his spine, but he swallowed it down.

Across from him stood two figures—both wearing black clothes and masks that covered their faces. Only their eyes were visible, dark and unreadable.

Fu Jian forced his voice steady.

"Who are you?" he asked, his throat dry. "Why are you doing this?"

One of them chuckled, a low, amused sound. The other leaned against a rusted beam, arms crossed.

"You’ve offended someone you really shouldn’t have," the first man said, voice distorted slightly by the mask.

This content is taken from (f)reewe(b)novel.𝗰𝗼𝐦