“Zhizhi, I will always be with you.”
The gentle echo had barely faded when, in the next moment, an airplane ticket was slammed down before her, carrying a bone-chilling coldness.
“You like your brother?”
“Don’t you find it disgusting?”
“First thing tomorrow morning, get out and go to Italy.”
Fu Wanzhi jolted awake, her heart tightening violently as the roar of the airplane engines vibrated in her ears.
Outside the window was a clear blue sky, but all that remained in her eyes was a piercing sense of irony.
Eight years—she had finally set foot back in Haicheng.
The memory of her humiliating expulsion, carried out by his own hands, was still vivid. Now, only because her father was critically ill did she have the right to return to this land.
For eight long years, that conversation, which had shattered all her hopes, had become a recurring nightmare that haunted her every night.
A single word—disgusting—had defined half her life.
Fu Wanzhi’s fingertips turned cold. She took a sip of water to suppress the surging emotions and closed her eyes to steady her breathing.
“Miss, the plane has arrived in Haicheng. Please disembark,” the flight attendant’s gentle voice pulled her back to reality.
“Thank you,” she replied hoarsely, her eyes concealing weariness and detachment.
Removing her sunglasses, she masked the exhaustion in her gaze, along with the obedient demeanor she had long since shed.
During her eight years in Italy, she had transformed from the gentle, well-behaved girl everyone saw into someone others could no longer understand.
The intense pressure of studying at a top art academy, coupled with her unresolved obsession, led her to spend nights lingering in bars, numbing herself with alcohol and noise, forcing herself to forget the man named Fu Sili.
Having studied art since childhood, she had a solid foundation, but inspiration often eluded her, trapping her in creative blocks. She would spend days and nights tirelessly working on a single painting.
A year ago, the painting “Drowning,” which sold for a staggering 50 million at an international auction, was the culmination of two years of effort, concealing all her suppressed emotions and rebellious spirit.
The first-class ticket arranged by the Fu family granted her access to the VIP exclusive lane, ensuring a smooth and uncrowded passage all the way.
Exiting the airport terminal, she didn’t immediately hail a taxi. Instead, she calmly reached into her bag, pulled out a slender cigarette, and lit it.
Her slender, elegant fingers held the cigarette as smoke drifted past her exquisite, coldly beautiful features. The once gentle and soft-spoken girl now had eyes filled only with rebellion, indifference, and nonchalance.
This land of Haicheng, which she once shared with him, now felt nothing but absurd and laughable to her.
Before long, the sound of respectful footsteps approached from behind.
“Second Young Lady, it’s been a long time. The young master sent me to pick you up,” a black-clad bodyguard bowed respectfully and naturally took her luggage.
Hearing the words “young master,” Fu Wanzhi’s fingers holding the cigarette trembled almost imperceptibly.
Clenching the cigarette between her lips, she glanced sideways, her tone light and cold. “Fu Sili?”
Her hand, hanging at her side, tightened abruptly, nails digging into her palm.
She thought that after eight years of separation, there was no longer any connection between them. She never expected he would still send someone to pick her up.
“Yes, Second Young Lady. Please get in the car.”
“Hmm.”
She responded indifferently, stubbing out the cigarette forcefully on a trash can, her movements sharp and decisive, bearing no resemblance to her former self.
Eight years had not dulled the mark he had left on her heart; instead, it had deepened her obsession.
Inside the enclosed space of the car, she struggled to suppress her turbulent emotions until the door was opened.
The moment she looked up, all her defenses nearly crumbled.
The man lounged lazily against the seat, his skin pale and cold, his eyes arrogant and noble. After eight years apart, his features had grown sharper and more profound, his gaze indifferent and devoid of any warmth from a long-awaited reunion.
Their eyes met.
Fu Sili’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of casual indifference:
“Long time no see, little sister.”
Those words of disgust, that expulsion, exploded in her ears once more.
Fu Wanzhi suppressed all emotions in her eyes, raising a smile of obedient gentleness, perfectly replicating the well-behaved and sensible demeanor from years past: “It’s been a few years, but you’re still the same, brother.”
“You, on the other hand, have grown even more beautiful.” Fu Sili swept his gaze over her, pausing for a moment on her slender figure, silently noting to himself: She’s thinner.
“How is Father?” Fu Wanzhi avoided his gaze, her tone distant.
“A car accident, lying in the hospital.” His voice was flat, as if it were of no importance.
Fu Wanzhi and Fu Sili were step-siblings in a blended family.
At the age of two, her mother remarried into the Fu family, a top-tier, high-ranking household in Haicheng. Father Fu held a prominent position, and Fu Sili was now the highly sought-after Deputy Chief Prosecutor of the procuratorate, their family background illustrious.
Her mother was a renowned artist, and the Lin family had deep roots in education for generations. The union of the two families was a powerful alliance.
However, when she was six, her mother passed away from illness. In the vast Fu household, she was left with only him—this one “brother.”
Yet in the end, even this sole reliance personally pushed her away.
“How was life abroad? I heard you became a painter.” Fu Sili spoke casually, feigning concern.
Fu Wanzhi curled her lips, full of mockery.
All her paintings were signed with a pen name; she never appeared in public, never revealed herself. The outside world only knew of a mysterious painter, unaware it was her, Fu Wanzhi.
Several institutions in the country had extended olive branches, inviting her to collaborate. She had originally planned to settle abroad and would never have set foot in Haicheng if not for her father’s critical condition.
“How thoughtful of you to care about me, brother.” Her tone was cold.
Fu Sili raised an eyebrow and chuckled lightly: “Uncle Li, go and acquire one of Zhizhi’s paintings another day.”
“No need.” Fu Wanzhi cut him off without mercy. “You know nothing about it, brother. There’s no need to pretend to care.”
He still called her by her childhood nickname, as if the rift, expulsion, and humiliation from eight years ago had never happened.
This nonchalant demeanor only made her find it laughable.
Uncle Li in the front seat hesitated, glancing into the rearview mirror, wanting to speak but holding back.
“As she wishes.” Fu Sili chuckled lightly. “A few years abroad, and her temper has certainly grown.”
Silence fell in the car.
Before long, Uncle Li spoke up: “Young Master, regarding your dinner with Miss Zhen tonight, do you need me to drive you?”
Miss Zhen.
Fu Wanzhi’s eyes darkened slightly.
Even far away in Italy, she had heard of this woman—Fu Sili’s fiancée.
Outside the car window, the streets of Haicheng sped past. Eight years had passed, yet Haicheng seemed unchanged; it was only the people who had changed.