“Not bad at all. You’ve managed to tidy this place up so nicely in just a few days.” Fu Wanzhi looked around her completely refreshed studio and praised Shang Yan.
“Of course. Who do you think I am? The office desks and chairs are all top-quality pieces, and I even renovated the gallery outside for you to hang your paintings.” Shang Yan said proudly.
Fu Wanzhi walked outside. The gallery had indeed been transformed, now looking entirely different from its previous style. “It’s a shame I don’t have a single one of my own paintings on hand.”
Her two works had been bought by private collectors, and her most recent piece had lost its inspiration after she moved back to the Champs-Élysées Villa.
“No worries. I have paintings by other artists. Want to hang them here to attract some attention?” Shang Yan suggested casually.
Fu Wanzhi shook her head. “My studio will only display my own paintings.”
Even if she had only one piece, she would only display her own work.
“That makes sense. You’re already a draw yourself. How about revealing that you’re the artist behind ‘Drowning,’ the painting that was auctioned for tens of millions?” Shang Yan proposed.
“Since it’s already been sold, there’s no need to explain.” Fu Wanzhi completely dismissed his suggestion.
‘Drowning’ was a piece she created during her most chaotic and nightmare-ridden time abroad.
The reason she auctioned it now was because she didn’t want to see it anymore—seeing it felt like confronting her own helpless struggle…
Shang Yan didn’t press her. “So, have you decided on a name for your next piece?”
“Yes. It’s called ‘Eden.’”
“Where is Miss?”
By the time Fu Sili returned after finishing his work, it was already past ten in the evening. Not seeing Fu Wanzhi in the living room, he asked.
“Miss said she won’t be back tonight. She’s having dinner outside with Young Master Shang.”
Hearing this, Fu Sili smiled.
Uncle Li watched him. Though he was smiling, there was a chilling coldness to it that made one shiver.
“Did she call to say that?” Fu Sili asked, leisurely undoing his cufflinks.
“Yes. Should we call Miss back?” Uncle Li inquired.
“No need.” Fu Sili shook his head, then took out his phone and dialed someone. The call was answered in a second.
A respectful voice came through. “Chief Fu.”
“Where is she?”
“Miss is at the studio. She’s barely come out all day, probably painting.” Yan Yan said, looking at the only room in the building still lit.
Fu Sili loosened his tie, a hint of weariness from exhaustion showing between his brows. “Any movements from Fu Yi’s side?”
“None. Since Miss returned to the country, their activities have slowed down. They’re just having people follow her.” Yan Yan replied.
“Send me the address.” Fu Sili hung up after saying this.
Outside, the sky had darkened. This was the capital, a city that never slept, its neon lights still dazzling no matter how late it got.
Fu Wanzhi looked at her painting, feeling somewhat restless. The pressure she applied to the brush was much heavier than before.
Should it be a python about to bite into the apple, or coiled around it, claiming it as its own…
She remained silent for a long time, unable to take the next step.
Fu Wanzhi picked up the wine glass beside her and took a sip. While abroad, she had developed the habit of never painting without wine nearby.
She didn’t know how much time had passed before she roughly sketched the outline. Her hand, having held the brush for so long, was already somewhat numb and weak.
Fu Wanzhi rubbed her wrist, picked up her phone, and prepared to go out for a meal. She also planned to take a walk to clear her mind, as she had no intention of sleeping tonight.
She closed the door to her studio but noticed someone standing in the outer hall, gazing at the white wall where paintings should have been hanging.
Fu Wanzhi’s heart tightened. She instinctively gripped her phone, slowed her steps, and approached cautiously. As she drew closer, the man’s figure became clearer.
The visitor wore a black shirt, his figure slender and tall. The half-lit, half-shadowed light outlined his sharp features—his brow bone was pronounced, and he stood casually with his hands in his pockets, staring at the white wall as if lost in thought.
“Fu Sili?! What are you doing here?” Recognizing his face, Fu Wanzhi’s mind snapped to alertness, and she exclaimed in surprise.
She hadn’t expected him to actually come, especially so late at night…
“Just wanted to see your studio for the first time,” Fu Sili replied nonchalantly.
Coming all the way here late at night just to see her studio… He really had too much free time.
“Where are your paintings? Not displaying them?” Fu Sili asked, glancing around.
“Sold.”
Fu Sili looked at her. “All of them?”
“Yeah, there were only two pieces anyway.” Her tone suggested she held no attachment to her own work.
“So you’re working late on a new painting.” Fu Sili didn’t press her about why she sold them.
“What else would I be doing in the studio?” Fu Wanzhi found his question odd. She started heading outside, feeling hungry after skipping dinner that afternoon.
Fu Sili grabbed her wrist. “Where are you going?”
“To eat. Don’t tell me you want to join.” Fu Wanzhi was forced to turn back and look at him. Though her words invited him along, her expression gave nothing away.
“Come home with me to eat.” Hearing her mention food, Fu Sili couldn’t help but think of her stomach issues. His tone left no room for refusal.
Home…
Fu Wanzhi tried to pull away, but the man only tightened his grip. She gave up, tilting her head up. “Are you planning to cook for me yourself?”
“As if you haven’t eaten my cooking when we were kids.” Fu Sili raised an eyebrow, glancing at her before leading her outside.
Fu Wanzhi pressed her lips together. When they were young, she had eaten Fu Sili’s cooking more often than anyone else’s. It wasn’t that the Fu family lacked hired help—she simply insisted he cook for her. Though he had started from scratch, learning along the way…
But things were different now…