Chapter 60: Daddy, what is Fu the skinflint?

Chapter 60: Daddy, What Does "Fu the Skinflint" Mean?

Fu Siyuan held a stylus, its white body twirling like a nimble fish between his fingers.

"If you want a competition entry, Professor, I can design another one. But this one belongs to Zhi Zhi and no one else."

With a snap, he shut his laptop and, without even bothering to take it, scooped up his little sister and headed toward his father and Fu Yuchen.

He wasn’t afraid of anyone stealing his design.

There had been people who stole from him before, throwing his things in the trash and calling him a bastard.

In the past, he would have fought back, gotten even.

But not anymore.

Even if someone stole his current draft, the source of his inspiration was right in his arms—that was something no one could steal.

Fu Yuchen walked away with ease, not a care for fame or recognition, leaving everyone in the room stunned.

After just two days, the students studying here had come to understand Fu Siyuan’s personality—cocky, tsundere, vain, and posh.

Every spoiled rich kid stereotype was embodied in him to the fullest.

They had expected that after designing something even their professor marveled at, Fu Siyuan would grow even more arrogant, his nose stuck up in the air.

But to their surprise, Fu Siyuan wasn't gloating or showing off—he didn’t even intend to submit his design for competition.

The Pritzker Prize.

To architects, it was what the Nobel Prize is to scientists.

Everyone spent their lives striving to reach that height.

Their parents had paid small fortunes to send them to study under this professor—not just because they had talent, but because they wanted to be like those revered predecessors, to become something their parents could brag about.

Fu Siyuan was the youngest among them and the most insufferable with his arrogance.

Now, watching his retreating figure, they finally understood why they resented him.

Because he was born with a silver spoon. Even with his playboy airs, he still stood a head taller than them.

After all, none of them could crank out a draft in one night, let alone make their professor's jaw drop.

Fu Siyuan carried his sister to his father’s side, his lips quirking in a smirk, his eyes gleaming with the unmistakable pride of youth.

"Dad, get me an island."

Fu Cheng had expected his youngest son to show off his design.

Instead, he asked for an island.

Fu Cheng frowned, wondering if he'd heard right. "What? What did you say you wanted?"

Fu Siyuan wondered if his father’s hearing had worsened after the car accident.

Bending down with his sister in his arms, he shouted into his father’s ear, "I said, buy me an island! A big one!"

A sharp smack echoed through the classroom.

Fu Siyuan, slow to react, clutched the back of his head and did a little pain dance.

"Dad! Why’d you hit me? If you mess up this genius brain, how are you gonna compensate me?"

"Since when do I need a reason to wallop my own kid? I ought to knock some sense into you today, you spendthrift! Before asking for an island, why don’t you check your pockets—aren’t they emptier than your sense of shame?"

Fu Cheng was so furious he launched out of his wheelchair.

Still recovering, the adrenaline rush from his anger had him towering over his son at over six feet tall, easily manhandling his son like a spinning top.

At only six feet himself, Fu Siyuan was no match for his father, getting whacked around like a misbehaving child.

"You know exactly how things are at home! Ask your eldest brother—where’s the money for luxuries now, you little brat?"

If not for Dr. Wang holding him back, Fu Cheng might’ve kicked his ungrateful son across the room.

Even bedridden, he could imagine what his three sons had been through to keep the household running while raising a daughter.

With all those vultures circling the Fu Group, the moment he fell, the company must’ve become ripe for the picking.

His eldest had been holding down the fort alone, but as a novice, he must’ve stumbled along the way—God knows how much the Fu Group had lost because of it?

The thought of his life’s work being picked apart by those scavengers made Fu Cheng's chest tighten.

"Screw the check-up, Dr. Wang. The Fu Group’s about to collapse—I've got a company to save."

Hand pressed to his heart, Fu Cheng, still sleep-addled, finally remembered the company he’d left in limbo.

Right now, he wanted nothing more than to rush back and take control.

Fu Siyuan and Fu Yuchen exchanged looks before turning to their father.

"Dad, about how things are at home—"

Slumping back into his wheelchair, Fu Cheng raised a hand to cut off his second son.

"I know. You and your brothers gave it your all. The Fu Group is massive—tens of thousands of employees, enemies inside and out. Keeping it afloat was miracle enough."

"Now that I’m awake, I won’t let you suffer anymore. Especially Zhi Zhi—she just came home. I won’t let her go hungry with us."

His Adam’s apple bobbed. Fu Cheng, who hadn’t touched his phone since waking up, gestured for Dr. Wang to hand it over.

"Let me call my assistant first, check on the company. Don’t worry—Dad’s back."

Offering his sons a reassuring smile, he patted his daughter’s head, his heart clenching.

She’d just returned to him, and now she might have to face hard times.

Pinching her cheek, he spoke as soon as the call connected, not even waiting for hello.

"Chen Shi, it’s Fu Cheng. Get the latest Fu Group files ready—I’m heading over soon."

"Tell Jing Yi to keep his pants on. Actually, put Jing Yi on the phone."

Chen Shi blinked at his phone, double-checking the caller ID before pressing it back to his ear.

After doing this a few times, Wang the assistant beside him asked, frowning, "The hell are you doing?"

Chen Shi said skeptically, "Seems like a scam call. The guy claimed to be the president and even asked me to prepare recent materials. Are scammers keeping up with the times now?"

Fu Cheng was still waiting for his eldest son to pick up the phone.

Instead, after a long wait, all he got was Special Assistant Chen calling him a scammer.

A vein throbbed at his temple as Fu Cheng snapped, "Chen Shi, you’d better not hang up. If I catch you screwing around on forums again during work hours, kiss this year’s bonus goodbye!"

Only then did Special Assistant Chen Shi realize the call was indeed from his boss.

"Holy shit! It’s really Skinflint Fu! H-he’s back, everyone! Emergency protocol! Get to work now!"

Chaos broke out from the other end of the line.

Fu Cheng clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles cracked.

"Daddy?"

The voice of little dumpling made Fu Cheng look up, his lips curving despite the lingering guilt in his heart.

Fu Cheng, "What is it, Zhi Zhi?"

Little dumpling tugged at his third brother’s collar, with curious eyes. "Daddy, what’s a skinflint?"

Fu Cheng’s lips twisted into a tight smile.

The call with Special Assistant Chen hadn’t been disconnected yet, and the latter clearly heard his CEO’s furious tone.

"Chen Shi, you’re dead meat!"