“You actually got grounded? Hahahaha, I’m dying of laughter.” Shang Yan’s unrestrained laughter came through the phone. He never thought that in this day and age, there was still such a thing as being grounded.
Listening to his mockery, Fu Wanzhi leisurely lit a cigarette and glanced at the painting she had casually made out of boredom that morning. “Do you really think Fu Sili can keep me locked up?”
In the painting, the boy’s profile was hidden in darkness, his features blurred. Beside him were two large characters: Pretentious Trash.
“That’s not necessarily true. After all, bloodline suppression—even as a kid, you could never escape Brother Sili’s grasp.” Shang Yan toyed with the lighter in his hand. Back then, she had been firmly under Fu Sili’s control.
Was it really that she couldn’t escape? It was just that she didn’t want to. Fu Wanzhi raised her hand and extinguished the cigarette on the boy’s face in the painting, grinding it a few times before turning and walking toward the window. “What are your plans for tonight?”
“Drinking. Someone organized a gathering. It’d be great if you could come—super handsome celebrities, absolutely incredible muscles.” Shang Yan deliberately sighed with regret.
“Who says I can’t go?” Fu Wanzhi slipped her phone into her pocket, tied the bedsheet she had prepared earlier securely to the window, and tossed it outside.
Shang Yan heard the commotion on her end and sat up straight. “What are you doing? Don’t tell me you’re pulling some TV drama stunt.”
There was no reply from her end, only the rustling sound of fabric, which further confirmed his suspicions.
“Fu Wanzhi! Don’t do anything reckless. I’ve told you, you shouldn’t watch so many TV dramas.” Shang Yan stood up in a panic, ready to rush outside.
Just as he pushed open the door and stepped out of his office, a pleasant female voice came through the phone: “TV dramas are sometimes more reliable than you.”
“Damn, you really climbed down from the second floor?! You’re really risking your life.” Hearing that nothing seemed amiss, Shang Yan let out a sigh of relief but still scolded her.
He had always known—her behavior since childhood never matched her appearance. As well-behaved as she pretended to be in front of others, that’s how wild she was behind closed doors…
“I won’t die. Send me the address. We’ll talk when we meet tonight.” Fu Wanzhi climbed out through the side door and hung up the phone.
Fu Sili had confined her for a few days and hadn’t shown his face since, probably because of what she had done—he didn’t want to see her anymore.
Just as well, she didn’t want to see him either. She could live just as recklessly and indulgently here as she had abroad, with or without him.
In the most luxurious and extravagant entertainment club in the capital, it was no exaggeration to say that people spent fortunes in a single night, just like in a paradise on earth…
Fu Wanzhi leaned against the railing, watching the crowd below. Many were well-known celebrities and singers from the entertainment industry.
Even before reaching the private rooms, some already had their hands slipping under the skirts of the women around them.
“Zhizhi, come quick. I’ve found the people for you—guaranteed to satisfy.” Shang Yan emerged from a room, spotted Fu Wanzhi outside, and quickly waved her over.
Fu Wanzhi turned around, her face delicate and radiant. “Are you a madam now?”
“Oh, don’t worry. They’ll definitely meet your expectations.” Shang Yan walked over, pushed her by the shoulders into the room, and winked at the people nearby.
“That’s right, Second Miss Fu. These were all carefully selected by Young Master Shang.”
Fu Wanzhi casually handed her glass to someone nearby, feeling somewhat uninterested but not wanting to embarrass Shang Yan.
The door opened, revealing a brightly lit and opulent private room. What was even more striking was the circle of men standing inside, each with strikingly handsome features and all over six feet tall.
This now felt even more like a brothel scene…
“Come on, say hello,” someone beside her spoke first.
“Good evening, Second Miss Fu.” The chorus of voices made Fu Wanzhi struggle to hold back a laugh.
Shang Yan clapped his hands, raising an eyebrow. “Pick one, or you can choose several if you like.”
Fu Wanzhi didn’t hesitate to let her gaze roam over them. She had been planning to paint figures recently… and was considering selecting a few models.
“This one,” she said, pointing at one of them.
Shang Yan looked over. The man Fu Wanzhi had chosen was very tall, with a lean build. He wore a simple black T-shirt, the muscles of his arms faintly visible. Among the group, he stood out—no tattoos, no dyed hair, only three black earrings in his left ear.
Hearing her voice, the young man lifted his head, his eyes distant and cold.
“Alright, he stays. The rest can leave.” With those words, Shang Yan had successfully recreated the atmosphere of an ancient brothel.
Fu Wanzhi wasn’t sure why she had chosen him. Perhaps it was because, among all of them, he was the only one who hadn’t looked up at her.
“What’s your name?” Shang Yan asked, eyeing the man.
“Young Master Shang, his name is Zhou Yunhan. He started as a model and has been in the industry for three years. So far, he’s only acted in one short drama and a few commercials.” Since he had been chosen, his manager hurried in, eager to flatter.
Zhou Yunhan? The name sounded somewhat familiar.
But Fu Wanzhi didn’t pay it much mind. She lightly flicked the ash from her cigarette. “Do you work out?”
Zhou Yunhan frowned at her question.
Shang Yan’s mouth fell open slightly, his eyes gleaming with excitement. He hadn’t expected her to be so direct.
“Of course he works out! His proportions are absolutely perfect,” the manager chimed in, as if promoting a product.
“Then come be my life drawing model. The fee is 100,000 per session.” Fu Wanzhi didn’t look at the manager but kept her eyes on him.
Shang Yan’s smile faded. So that’s what she meant by asking if he worked out. He had gotten his hopes up for nothing…
A life drawing model. Zhou Yunhan looked at the woman beside him, whose beauty seemed almost surreal. Before he could speak, his manager eagerly interjected, “Yes, of course, absolutely.”
“I was asking him,” Fu Wanzhi said lightly.
The manager looked slightly embarrassed but shot a warning glance at Zhou Yunhan, urging him to agree quickly.
Zhou Yunhan studied her unchanged expression for a moment before nodding, his voice low. “Alright.”
Fu Wanzhi took a sip of her drink. It wasn’t that she had never painted nudes before—she had, but that was abroad. Here…
If Fu Sili found out, what would he think?