“Where are we eating tonight? Maybe we should just go drinking,” Shang Yan took it seriously and pressed further.
“No drinking. Take me back to Central Mansion,” Fu Wanzhi fastened her seatbelt.
Shang Yan was puzzled: “Didn’t you say you were having dinner with me?”
“Go eat with your models. I have deadlines to meet,” Fu Wanzhi remained merciless in her refusal.
“So you’re using me as a shield again. It’s because of you that Brother Sili keeps ignoring me,” Shang Yan pouted. She had always pretended to be a good girl since childhood, so no one knew her true nature.
When she received love letters as a child and Fu Sili found out, she claimed they were from him. Even when she drank, she said he was the one who brought her.
“Fine, then go be friends with him.”
“Really?”
“…Get lost.”
The curtains in the room were tightly drawn, not letting in a single ray of light from outside. It wasn’t until Fu Wanzhi finished a section of her work that she realized it was already ten o’clock at night.
She tossed her pen aside and looked at the unfinished painting before her—a giant serpent raising its body, coiling around an apple as if it were both food and something that belonged to it.
Fu Wanzhi covered it with a white cloth and walked out of the studio.
After painting all afternoon and into the evening, she could feel her stomach growling with hunger.
Her phone had been lying untouched on the sofa since she returned. Rubbing her tired eyes, she picked it up.
Shang Yan had sent her several messages, all about studio matters. Besides Shang Yan, there was an unexpected caller—Fu Sili had phoned her at 9:50 PM.
Only once.
Fu Wanzhi checked the time—it was already past 10:20.
She swiped away the notifications and first opened an app to order takeout.
Just as she finished, Fu Sili’s call came through again like a ghost.
After several seconds, she finally answered: “What is it?”
“Be at Champs Villa in half an hour, or I’ll throw away your luggage,” Fu Sili’s voice was low, hoarse, and lazy, yet carried an overwhelming force.
Before Fu Wanzhi could respond, he hung up, his approach domineering.
Fu Wanzhi took a deep breath, her anger making her stomach ache.
She grabbed her car keys and headed straight out. Fu Sili always meant what he said.
But she hadn’t eaten yet. Her stomach, already weakened by poor eating habits abroad, was now throbbing with pain.
Fu Wanzhi rubbed her abdomen, enduring the sharp discomfort as she stepped on the accelerator.
She arrived at Champs Villa exactly at the agreed time.
“Miss is back,” Uncle Chen was the first to greet her.
“Uncle Li, I’m here to pick up my luggage,” Fu Wanzhi said, not wanting to stay long.
Fu Sili emerged from the study, looking down at her from the second floor with a commanding presence. “Finally decided to come back? Having fun?”
“Loads of fun. So, where’s my luggage?” Fu Wanzhi retorted.
Fu Sili slowly descended the stairs, the collar of his black shirt slightly open, his demeanor aristocratic. “Was the apartment at Central Mansion arranged for you by Shang Yan?”
He avoided mentioning the luggage entirely. Fu Wanzhi stared at him. “Yes, is there a problem?”
“Cancel it. Move back here tomorrow,” Fu Sili ordered calmly.
“You’re getting married. What kind of sister lives with her brother and sister-in-law?” Fu Wanzhi laughed, the pain in her stomach gradually intensifying.
Fu Sili didn’t care in the slightest: “Even after marriage, I’m still your brother.”
“But I don’t want to, I don’t want to live with you,” Fu Wanzhi said bluntly.
“You should know I’m not asking,” Fu Sili looked at her.
An indescribable sense of oppression washed over her. Fu Wanzhi felt her breathing grow difficult, and her already faintly aching stomach now twisted with severe cramps.
She couldn’t help but take a step back, her face pale as she leaned against the nearby sofa, breathing rapidly…