“What are you doing? There’s a front door—why are you climbing through the window?” Shang Yan watched as Fu Wanzhi entered the room, pulled over a chair, and prepared to climb out the window. He didn’t quite understand, but he still gave her a hand.
Fu Wanzhi tied her hair up with a hairband and looked at the drop of about a meter outside. “There’s a plague god I need to avoid.”
“A plague god? Who?” Shang Yan climbed up as well, asking curiously.
“Who do you think? If it weren’t for your big mouth, I wouldn’t have to take this route.” Fu Wanzhi pulled him along. “You go down first, then catch me.”
“Oh…” Shang Yan obediently jumped down. “But who is this plague god you’re talking about? It can’t be Brother Sili, right?”
“Who else could it be? It’s him.” Fu Wanzhi didn’t want to see him for the next few days.
“…”
Shang Yan was silent for a long moment before saying, “You must be mistaken. How could Brother Sili be a plague god?”
“Are you stupid? If it weren’t for him, why would I be climbing through the window? Hurry up and catch me.” Fu Wanzhi braced her hands on the windowsill, kicking her legs a few times as a signal, before being caught steadily.
“Thanks. Let’s go quickly.” Fu Wanzhi patted her hands and turned around, only to freeze in place for a few seconds when she saw the person standing in front of her.
Shang Yan, meanwhile, clenched his fists, hung his head, and said nothing, looking exactly like he did as a child when he’d done something wrong.
“What, stunned to see the plague god?” The person in front of her was none other than Fu Sili, a faint smile on his face.
“…”
Fu Wanzhi hadn’t expected him to be here. She glanced around, wondering if he had someone tailing her.
“You still haven’t changed your habit of running away when you do something wrong.” Fu Sili read her expression and spoke.
“Actually, we just wanted to look at the moon,” Shang Yan tried to cover for her.
Fu Sili drew out his words, “Climbing through the window to look at the moon together—quite romantic.”
The tone of his words felt off. The vigilance Shang Yan had developed since childhood allowed him to automatically sense when something wasn’t right.
“…I just remembered I haven’t settled my bill yet. I’ll be going now.” Shang Yan turned and left without looking back, his familiarity with the situation making Fu Wanzhi grit her teeth.
“Blocking me here again, planning to lock me up once more.” Since that was the case, Fu Wanzhi didn’t hold back.
Fu Sili handed her his coat. “Just waiting to go home with you. No need to make it sound so harsh.”
Fu Wanzhi glanced at it and waved it away, letting the high-end tailored suit jacket fall to the ground. “Stop pretending, Fu Sili.”
Fu Sili didn’t spare a glance at the coat on the ground, his eyes slightly downturned. “How’s that male celebrity?”
“Much better than you.” Fu Wanzhi replied stiffly.
“Is that so? Just a male celebrity. Little sister can play around all she wants.” Fu Sili’s tone was neither light nor heavy.
“What if I’m not just playing around?” Fu Wanzhi clenched her fists.
Hearing this, Fu Sili took a step forward, casually brushing the stray hairs at her ear and tucking them behind it. His voice was gentle, but a cold, chilling aura spread around him. “Zhizhi, do you want to see him disappear from Haicheng?”
“…”
She had known since childhood that her so-called brother was never what he appeared to be. He was cold, calculating, ruthless, and vengeful. The “good brother” was merely a role he played when he felt like it.
“So, how did it go? Brother Sili didn’t do anything to you, right? Just act cute and this whole thing will blow over.”
Fu Wanzhi mixed her paints. “Why don’t you say you’ll just act cute?”
“Isn’t that your surefire trick for dealing with Brother Sili?” Shang Yan remarked.
Her hand paused… That surefire trick was a thing of the past.
“How’s my studio been these past few days?” she changed the subject.
“The exterior renovations are almost done, but I’m curious—if you don’t hang any paintings, how do you plan to make money?” Shang Yan asked, looking at the newly renovated studio outside.
Several of Fu Wanzhi’s works had been bought by others. As for her latest creation, “Eden,” she wouldn’t sell it.
“I will hang paintings. Aren’t I creating right now?” It had been quite a while since she last worked on “Eden.” Now, with Fu Sili’s wedding approaching, she had to prepare his wedding gift first.
“Do you want me to help you buy back those two pieces?” Shang Yan offered.
“I sold each for tens of millions. How much would you have to spend?” Fu Wanzhi replied, her eyes fixed on the canvas.
“…Suddenly, I think the person who bought them must be an artist who wants to cherish them properly. I should respect that,” Shang Yan quickly backtracked.
“Get lost,” Fu Wanzhi said, knowing exactly how he’d respond.
“But Brother Sili’s wedding is in a week. Zhen Lianyun is hosting a party tonight. Did you receive the invitation?” Shang Yan asked.
Hearing this, Fu Wanzhi glanced at the invitation on the nearby table, her hands never stopping. “I did.”
“Are you going? If you go, I’ll go,” Shang Yan said.
“Of course I’m going. Why wouldn’t I? Not going would be disrespectful to my future sister-in-law,” Fu Wanzhi replied.
Shang Yan nodded on the other end. “True. Then I’ll pick you up tonight.”
“Mm.”
Since the incident at the club, Fu Sili had surprisingly not given her any trouble, allowing her to come and go freely—except for the rule that she had to be home by ten every night.
Meanwhile, he left early and returned late each day, their schedules completely mismatched. Sometimes, he didn’t even come home at all.
Tonight’s banquet was no smaller in scale than the Cheng family’s event. While there weren’t many major figures, there were plenty of their children.
Having been away from Haicheng for eight years, Fu Wanzhi was hardly familiar with the current upper-class circles.
“Miss, the young master said you’re attending a banquet tonight and specially prepared a gown for you,” the housekeeper gently knocked on the door and spoke.
Fu Sili was certainly quick with the news.
“Leave it in my room for now,” Fu Wanzhi said.
These past few days, news of the impending marriage between the Fu and Zhen families had been causing quite a stir.
Fu Wanzhi looked at the dark-themed wedding oil painting before her, a slight smile curling at the corner of her lips as she put away her brush with satisfaction.
This grand gift couldn’t possibly disappoint him.