Ghost Exorciser: Is Loved By All
Chapter 695: Worth

Chapter 695: Chapter 695: Worth

The bodyguards remained unmoved, their expressions unreadable.

Seeing their lack of reaction only fueled his fury.

"You think you can just drag me out of here like some delinquent?" he hissed, the glass shard trembling slightly in his hand.

"I’m not leaving until I’m ready."

For a brief moment, silence hung heavy in the room.

But before anyone could make a move, a new voice cut through the tension—a calm, authoritative voice that immediately commanded attention.

"That’s enough."

All heads turned toward the doorway, where an older man stood, his presence radiating quiet power.

His hair was silver at the temples, his tailored suit immaculate, and his piercing gaze settled on Young Master Fu with disappointment.

It was Old Mr. Fu.

"You’ve caused enough of a scene," he said, his voice low but firm. "This childish rebellion of yours ends now."

Young Master Fu’s jaw clenched, his body going rigid at the sight of his grandfather.

"You have no right to be here," Young Master Fu spat, his voice trembling with barely contained rage.

Old Mr. Fu’s eyes narrowed, the faintest hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Your mother made her choices," he replied coolly. "Just as you are making yours now. But understand this—defiance has consequences."

The words hung in the air like a threat, but Young Master Fu stood his ground.

Despite the overwhelming odds, despite the fear gnawing at the edges of his resolve, he refused to back down.

"Do whatever you want," he snapped. "But I won’t let you rewrite history. I won’t let you destroy everything she stood for."

Old Mr. Fu’s expression hardened, the veneer of civility slipping just enough to reveal the ruthless man beneath.

"So be it," he murmured, signaling to the bodyguards with a slight nod.

Before Young Master Fu could react, two of the guards lunged forward, their movements swift and practiced.

He slashed out with the glass shard, but it was no match against their coordinated strength.

They wrenched the weapon from his hand, pinning his arms behind his back as he struggled, his shouts echoing down the sterile hospital corridors.

"Let me go!" he roared, his voice hoarse with frustration and helplessness. "You can’t do this!"

But his words fell on deaf ears.

The guards dragged him from the room, his bare feet scraping against the cold floor.

Old Mr. Fu watched with a detached expression, his hands clasped behind his back as if overseeing a business transaction rather than the forceful removal of his own grandson.

With cold look in his eyes he muttered,

"If you weren’t disgusting and kept on chasing that Young Master of the Yu Family, I might have shown you a bit of mercy."

"You f*cking lunatic! I never asked you for a penny! I was living a good life without you! You were the one who insisted on bringing me. I have already told you about my sexual orientation by then!" Young Master Fu shouted.

Old Mr. Fu suddenly stopped the bodyguard with his hands and looked at Young Master Fu with a dark expression,

"So?"

"You said, you won’t interfere! You b*stard! You acted like a kind grandfather and made me willing to give up assets to you so that you could lend me the right to chase Sicong!

But if I had known that you killed my mother, I would have never give you a single penny!"

Old Mr. Fu’s chuckle echoed through the sterile hallway, cold and sharp like broken glass.

His eyes gleamed with a dark amusement as he slowly approached his struggling grandson.

The bodyguards held Fu Jian tight, but his defiant glare never wavered.

"You really think I cared about your little love story?" Old Mr. Fu sneered, stopping just inches from Fu Jian’s face. His breath was cool, laced with condescension.

"At first, I thought maybe—just maybe—that Yu Sicong cared for you. I didn’t plan to interfere right away. I wanted to wait, to see if that boy truly loved you."

Fu Jian’s eyes widened for a moment, confusion flickering behind his fury.

He hadn’t expected his grandfather to admit he was even watching that closely. But Old Mr. Fu wasn’t finished.

"I gave it a few years," he continued, his voice low and deliberate.

"I thought, if Sicong showed even a hint of real affection, I might have let you have your silly little fantasy. But then..."

He chuckled again, this time deeper, more menacing. "Then I heard the truth."

Fu Jian’s heart pounded in his chest.

He didn’t want to hear what was coming, but he couldn’t stop himself from listening.

"My people told me," Old Mr. Fu whispered, his voice like poison dripping into Fu Jian’s ears.

"That Yu Sicong is a straight man. He never had any feelings for you. Never would. You were just a distraction to him—something to laugh about with his friends behind closed doors."

Fu Jian’s face paled, his body going still in the guards’ grip.

The words hit harder than any physical blow could have.

But he quickly masked the hurt, clenching his jaw and spitting back,

"You’re lying. You’d say anything to break me down."

Old Mr. Fu shook his head slowly, a mockery of sympathy in his eyes.

"Believe what you want, boy. But deep down, you know it’s true. Why do you think Sicong never gave you a real chance? Why do you think he kept you at arm’s length, always polite but never close?"

Fu Jian’s mind raced back to every interaction with Yu Sicong.

Yu Sicong always contracted him when he had something to ask for...

He had convinced himself those meant something.

But now, under his grandfather’s cruel gaze, those memories felt hollow.

"But that’s not the worst part," Old Mr. Fu said, leaning in even closer.

"The worst part is that you were willing to give up everything for him. Your pride. Your inheritance. Your future. All for a man who never wanted you."

Fu Jian’s breath came in sharp, painful bursts.

His vision blurred with unshed tears, but he refused to let them fall in front of this man.

"You think you’ve won?" he whispered, his voice hoarse but steady.

"You think taking my money, my mother’s legacy, will break me? You’re wrong."

Old Mr. Fu’s smile faded, his eyes narrowing into slits.

"I don’t need to break you, Jian. You’ve already done that to yourself."

With a final, dismissive glance, Old Mr. Fu turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.

The bodyguards tightened their grip on Fu Jian, dragging him further from the place he had once called safe.

But as he was pulled away, Fu Jian’s heart hardened.

His grandfather might have taken everything from him, but the fire in his chest still burned.

This wasn’t the end.

Not even close.

Fu Jian was thrown out of the hospital with nothing to his name.

He quickly went to a passerby and asked for the phone.

"I just want to make a quick call."

The passerby, an older woman with kind eyes, hesitated for a moment.

She looked at Fu Jian—his messy hair, the hospital gown still clinging to his thin frame, and the desperation in his eyes.

After a second, she handed him her phone, her fingers lingering as if unsure if she should trust him.

"Just one call," she said softly.

Fu Jian nodded quickly, his hands trembling as he dialed the number he knew by heart. The phone rang once, twice, and then—

"Hello?" a familiar voice answered, smooth and casual like nothing in the world was wrong.

"Han," Fu Jian whispered, his voice barely holding steady.

There was a pause on the other end. "Fu Jian? What—why are you calling me?"

Fu Jian swallowed hard. His heart pounded in his chest like it wanted to escape.

"I need your help," he said, his voice cracking. "They threw me out. I have nowhere to go."

Bei Han was his best friend. Fu Jian was sure he would help him.

"Fu Jian..." Bei Han finally spoke, but his tone was different now. Distant. Cold. "I don’t think that’s a good idea."

Fu Jian’s stomach dropped. "What? What do you mean? Han, please. I have no one else."

On the other end, Bei Han sighed.

"Look, Jian... I never told you this but I felt disgusted. I feel disgusted for gay people. I was only friends with you because you were rich.

But recently I got to know that your grandfather has disowned...and your words just now confirmed everything."

Fu Jian felt like the air had been punched out of his chest. His hand holding the phone started to shake, and his knees felt weak like they might give out any second.

"You... you’re joking, right?" Fu Jian whispered his voice barely a breath.

But there was no joke in Bei Han’s voice when he replied.

"No, I’m not. I don’t need to pretend anymore, Fu Jian. You’re broke now. And honestly... I don’t want to be around someone like you."