The cold white light of the intensive care unit stung the eyes.
Fu Wanzhi looked through a transparent glass panel at the man lying inside.
His body was covered with fine tubes connected to various monitoring instruments, his chest rising and falling only faintly, lying so still he seemed lifeless.
She had never felt particularly close to this man, her father in name only.
There was no blood bond between them to begin with, and coupled with his high position, his perpetually stern and unsmiling demeanor, and the ever-present severity and distance in his expression, she had never truly been close to him since childhood.
“Is there any chance of improvement, according to the doctors?” she asked softly, her gaze not leaving the hospital bed.
Beside her, Fu Sili suddenly turned his head, his tone carrying an indescribable tension. “Are you really hoping he recovers?”
Fu Wanzhi frowned slightly.
She suddenly remembered many years ago, after her mother passed away, Father Fu’s temperament had grown increasingly irritable and volatile.
While he remained somewhat polite to her, toward Fu Sili, there was only endless criticism and physical abuse.
The dull thud of a leather belt striking flesh was something she remembered clearly to this day.
Back then, she had once stumbled upon the bleeding welts on Fu Sili’s back. Crouching beside him, her eyes red from crying, she gently blew on the wounds while clumsily applying medicine.
Even though he trembled with pain, he still smiled and ruffled her hair, his voice impossibly gentle. “Don’t cry, Zhizhi. It doesn’t hurt.”
“What are you thinking about?”
A cold voice abruptly pulled her back from her drifting thoughts. Fu Wanzhi subtly concealed the surge of old memories in her eyes and took a small step back, deliberately creating distance between them.
“Nothing. He is our father, of course I hope he recovers.”
“Father?” Fu Sili let out a low, mocking laugh, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “He doesn’t deserve that title.”
“What did you say?” Fu Wanzhi didn’t catch the latter part.
Fu Sili didn’t repeat himself. Instead, he loosened his tie and resumed his usual indifferent tone. “I have business to attend to later. The driver will take you back to the Fu family estate. Tomorrow, you’ll come with me to see Grandfather.”
“No need for the trouble,” Fu Wanzhi refused immediately, leaving no room for negotiation. “I’ve already found a place to stay on my own.”
For the rest of her life, she never wanted to live under the same roof with him again, nor did she want to step back into the Fu family home that had trapped her throughout her youth.
The casual smile faded from Fu Sili’s face, replaced by a calm yet probing expression. “Where?”
“That seems to be none of your business, brother,” Fu Wanzhi looked up at him, her tone straightforward and unyielding, showing none of her former docility or compliance.
He took a step forward, leaning slightly to block her path, his presence exuding an undeniable pressure. “That won’t do. Grandfather specifically asked me to take good care of you.”
There it was again—the devoted, caring older brother act.
Fu Wanzhi felt nothing but irony in her heart, yet she maintained a sweet, harmless smile on her face. Her voice was soft, but her words were sharp. “Take care of me? Now that I’m back, you suddenly want to take care of me?”
Instead of getting angry, Fu Sili leaned even closer, his low voice tinged with amusement. “Are you blaming me, little sister, for not caring about you while you were abroad?”
“Yes,” Fu Wanzhi admitted frankly, letting out a light laugh and shrugging. “Eight years is enough for people and things to change completely. Like me. Like you.”
Fu Sili looked at the utterly unfamiliar distance in her eyes and suddenly let out a low chuckle, his gaze cool yet strikingly beautiful. “Is that so? I thought Zhizhi would be even more obedient than when she was little.”
“Brother has always known since childhood that my good-girl act was entirely fake.” Fu Wanzhi lifted her eyes to meet his gaze, enunciating the last four words softly yet clearly: “So don’t try to pressure me with those rules and proprieties anymore.”
The curve at the corner of Fu Sili’s lips dipped slightly, the invisible pressure around him intensifying abruptly, yet his tone remained casual. “Just returned to the country, and already in such a hurry to argue with me?”
Fu Wanzhi turned her head away, unwilling to engage with him any further.
He stared at her profile, clearly unwilling to communicate, narrowing his eyes slightly as he spoke in a flat tone, “Even if you don’t tell me, do you think I can’t find out?”
Fu Wanzhi knew all too well that with Fu Sili’s methods, how could he possibly fail to uncover the truth.
“Suit yourself.”
Fu Sili glanced at his wristwatch and didn’t press the matter further, simply tossing out a line, “In that case, let Uncle Li drive you.”
“No need. Brother should focus on having dinner with your fiancée instead.” Fu Wanzhi declined.
Fu Sili raised an eyebrow, about to say more, when his phone suddenly rang urgently from his pocket.
He responded casually, “Fine, then take care.”
With that, he turned and strode away, his black-clad figure quickly disappearing at the end of the hallway.
Only when his silhouette had completely vanished did Fu Wanzhi slowly withdraw her gaze and turn to walk in the exact opposite direction.
Ever since eight years ago, when he threw that plane ticket in her face and uttered the word “disgusting,” all that remained between them was a hollow sibling relationship in name only—nothing more.
Her luggage was still in Fu Sili’s car, but she wasn’t in a hurry.
Given his temperament, he would eventually have it delivered to her.
She hailed a taxi directly to the residence she had prepared in advance. The place had been secured for her by Shang Yan, a childhood friend. Even after eight years apart, the two had never lost touch.
As soon as she opened the door, her phone rang. Shang Yan’s teasing voice came through the receiver, “Well, well, our great painter Fu has finally decided to return to the country? How do you like the place I picked for you? Satisfied enough?”
Fu Wanzhi glanced around the spacious open-plan apartment. The entire floor housed only one unit, with excellent soundproofing, and the location was among the finest in Haicheng.
“Not bad. Quiet enough.”
“Of course. It may not compare to Fu Sili’s Champs-Élysées villa, but it’s all about freedom here.” Shang Yan’s tone was casual. “Why aren’t you staying with your brother? When you were little, you couldn’t bear to be apart from him for even a moment.”
Fu Wanzhi collapsed onto the sofa, casually picking up a slim cigarette from the table. “I just want to be alone.”
“Impressive. Eight years abroad, and you’ve grown wild at heart.” Shang Yan clicked his tongue twice, his tone full of curiosity.
Fu Wanzhi rubbed the cigarette between her fingers, not responding. After a few seconds of silence, she suddenly spoke up, “By the way, do you know Zhen Lianyun?”
“I do. The Zhen family’s heiress, soon to marry your brother.” Shang Yan’s tone carried a hint of sentimentality. “It’s happening next month. A powerful alliance between two families. Fu Sili was already destined for greatness, and with this marriage, his future is even more secure. A perfect match in every way.”
Fu Wanzhi walked out to the balcony. The evening breeze brushed against her face, carrying a faint, cool bitterness.
“When exactly? What’s the date?”
“I didn’t ask for specifics. Didn’t Fu Sili tell you?”
“Find out for me.” Her tone betrayed no emotion.
“No problem at all.” Shang Yan readily agreed, then extended an invitation: “Come out for a drink tonight? It’s been so long since I last saw you.”
“Another time. I just got back and still need to unpack.”
“Alright, let’s set a date. How about lunch tomorrow? Consider it a welcome-back meal.”
“Sure.”
After hanging up, Fu Wanzhi stood on the balcony for a long while, letting the breeze wash over her until the turbulent emotions in her heart gradually settled. Only then did she turn and head back inside.
The spacious house was decorated in an extremely minimalist style, devoid of any trace of warmth or life. It felt more like a temporary stopover than a home.
When she was young and her mother had left, she always believed that wherever Fu Sili was, that place was home.
But now, he was about to have his own home, with his rightful fiancée.
Her gaze fell on the painting frame in the corner of the living room, covered by a white cloth.
Her steps halted. After a few moments of silence, she reached out and pulled the cloth away.
An unfinished oil painting was revealed—against a pitch-black background, a cold serpent coiled around a crimson forbidden fruit, secretive yet frenzied.
The painting depicted a serpent entwined with fruit, alluding to Adam and Eve, but the metaphor… was about them.
Her fingertips brushed over the cold canvas as a dark glint spread in Fu Wanzhi’s eyes.
Then let no one escape…