Mrs. Yang Peiyun, a seasoned veteran, showed no fear under Fu Nancheng's cold gaze. Instead, she calmly said, "Mr. Fu is a smart man. I believe you know what to do."
Fu Nancheng tightened his grip on the documents in his hand and, after a moment, lightly parted his thin lips: "There's one thing I've never been able to understand."
"Oh?" Yang Peiyun raised an eyebrow and looked at him; her usually slightly hunched figure was exceptionally straight today.
"Xiao Mo and Qiao Yun are both your children. I wonder why Mrs. Yang plays favorites."
Fu Nancheng's starry eyes were piercing, staring intensely at the woman before him.
He had investigated her background but found nothing unusual. From a mother's perspective, it wouldn't make sense to treat her children this way.
Unless...
Yang Peiyun chuckled softly: "I don't play favorites; I'm pursuing fairness."
Fu Nancheng remained silent.
