Arriving at the Lu residence, the same middle-aged steward from before came out to receive her.
“You must be the student here to collect the award. Please, follow me.”
Under the glow of the setting sun, the Lu residence carried an air of serene solemnity; along the path, the surrounding scenery seemed draped in a warm golden gauze. Passing by the same lush green lawn as last time, Wen Tingli instinctively paused. A flock of leisurely white doves still wandered the lawn, but there was no sign of Lu Shicheng feeding them as he had before.
The steward led Wen Tingli to a small parlor, and once she was seated, said: “Young Master Lu will be here shortly.”
After serving the tea, the little flower parlor held only Wen Tingli.
At first, she sat with her eyes fixed straight ahead, but once the Lu family servants had walked off, she quickly turned her head to survey the room’s furnishings — pearl-gray walls, elegantly crafted cherry wood furniture, a crystal vase by the window holding a large bouquet of orchids and tulips.
This place appeared to be where the Lu family spent their everyday time. On the table sat a fruit bowl, a water pitcher, teacups, and other such items, and besides these, a stack of newspapers lay on the coffee table.
The newspaper bore today’s date, and the front page happened to feature the story of Dean Deng’s shooting. If this had indeed been arranged by the Lu family, Lu Shicheng would presumably pay especially close attention to this kind of news — but the paper lay perfectly flat, showing no trace whatsoever of having been read.
She turned her gaze toward the small writing desk in the corner of the room — last time, Lu Shicheng had sat there writing a letter of recommendation for Huang Yuanshan. But right now, that desk held only two foreign-language books, no papers or documents of any kind.
Made sense, really — who would leave anything important lying around in a reception room? Li Chengying had also cautioned her before that clues often turned up in unexpected places. She was just about to pretend to admire the view outside the French windows in order to look around elsewhere, when she suddenly heard footsteps in the hallway.
This time, there were two people.
Wen Tingli’s chest tightened, and she hurriedly pulled two anti-inflammatory tablets from her book bag, tipping them into her palm.
By the time Lu Shicheng and the steward entered, Wen Tingli, holding the pills in one hand and her teacup in the other, happened to appear caught in a moment of indecision.
The steward was walking alongside, murmuring some report or other, and Lu Shicheng listened with an air of indifference. Upon entering the room, Lu Shicheng stopped and gave Wen Tingli a polite nod — from his expression, it was hard to tell whether he even remembered her.
Wen Tingli feigned helplessness, setting down the pills and teacup in her hands, standing up with a smile: “Good afternoon, young Master Lu.”
Lu Shicheng looked at the pills in Wen Tingli’s hand in surprise, and the steward, too, seemed a little puzzled: “Miss Wen, what’s this?”
Wen Tingli said, a little embarrassed: “The doctor instructed me to take my anti-inflammatory medication punctually at six-thirty every day. I wasn’t sure how long the award ceremony would run, so I thought I’d take the medicine before young Master Lu arrived — but I wasn’t sure whether the tea might weaken the effect of the Western medicine.”
“I see, let me go fetch Miss Wen a glass of cool boiled water right away.”
“Thank you for the trouble.” She stole a glance at Lu Shicheng out of the corner of her eye. Perhaps stirred by the memory the pills evoked, he was studying her quietly from across the room, expression unreadable.
Wen Tingli decided simply to meet Lu Shicheng’s gaze head-on, looking up at him, then quickly lowering her long lashes, smiling a little shyly: “Young Master Lu, we meet again.”
Lu Shicheng, left hand tucked in his trouser pocket, made a gesture inviting her to sit. Once Wen Tingli had sat down, he stood and pointed to his own left arm, his gaze carrying a hint of concern.
“Much better now,” Wen Tingli said with a smile. “Taking medicine is just to prevent another fever — I made such a scene of crying that night, young Master Lu must have found it quite amusing.”
Her smile was sweet as a flower petal dipped in honey — anyone else, affected by such a smile, would have surely softened in expression too, but Lu Shicheng only gave a faint smile, leaning over to pick up a glass of water from the coffee table, taking a sip on his own, then sitting quietly on the sofa across from her.
A brief stillness settled over the air.
Wen Tingli felt a little deflated, but she didn’t rush to find something to say. Since Lu Shicheng made no move, she simply sat there properly as well.
Fortunately, there was something subtly calming about Lu Shicheng’s presence — even without speaking, he didn’t make things feel awkward.
Since Wen Tingli sat with her eyes lowered, she could only catch glimpses of Lu Shicheng’s trouser legs across from her — even this man’s shoes were spotless, evidence of how meticulous he was about details. If the assassination had indeed been arranged by Lu Shicheng himself, she wasn’t at all surprised that Li Chengying and the others still hadn’t found any leads on the culprit.
Before long, the steward came in carrying a large glass bottle and a glass on a silver tray.
“My oversight earlier — please, Miss Wen, take your time.”
Wen Tingli stood, thanking him repeatedly, then sat back down to take her medicine with the water.
Lu Shicheng waited patiently nearby, watching Wen Tingli finish taking her pills, before finally rising and personally leading her toward the study.
Wen Tingli had already planned how she’d find a way to strike up conversation with Lu Shicheng in the study, as well as how she’d observe her surroundings — but to her surprise, the steward followed them in as well.
Wen Tingli had no choice but to swallow the words she’d been about to say, and kept her gaze fixed cautiously on the space directly before her.
Lu Shicheng walked straight to the desk, took a pen from his jacket pocket, sat down, and swiftly signed a check.
The old steward walked over to a nearby cabinet, opened the door, took out a small red velvet box, and set it before Lu Shicheng, then turned to Wen Tingli and spoke solemnly: “Old Master Lu has always valued education and industry — the purpose in establishing this award was precisely to encourage Wushi’s students to strive for excellence… we hope Classmate Wen will cherish her talents, aspire to serve the nation, and diligently cultivate herself both inside and out…”
He went on for another ten sentences or so, all words of encouragement and exhortation to study hard.
Wen Tingli bowed slightly, and once the old steward finished speaking, Lu Shicheng handed the box and check to her together.
The whole process felt somewhat formulaic, but Lu Shicheng’s expression showed not the slightest hint of insincerity.
Wen Tingli accepted them solemnly. Inside the red velvet box was a gleaming gold “Yuying Award” medal.
Engraved boldly upon it were six characters: 【Cultivate Talent, Prosper Our Nation】.
Below it was Lu Hongjun’s own signature.
Wen Tingli looked up at Lu Shicheng; Lu Shicheng was gazing quietly at the medal.
From the seriousness in his expression, she sensed that the entire Lu family took the cultivation of Wushi’s talents extraordinarily seriously. In her heart, she too felt genuinely moved, unconsciously clutching the medal closer to her chest, and lifted her head to thank him joyfully: “This student will keep Old Master Lu’s teachings firmly in mind. Thank you too, young Master Lu, for personally presenting this award to me.”
A ripple crossed Lu Shicheng’s eyes, and the steward, noticing this, hurried to say with a smile: “In previous years, students who came to collect their awards were always somewhat reserved — Classmate Wen here is the first this lively we’ve ever seen.”
Wen Tingli looked a little sheepish. Lu Shicheng nodded at her, as if to say “it’s fine,” then made a gesture inviting her to go ahead, apparently intending to personally see her out.
The old steward immediately fell in step behind them, but just then, the telephone in the parlor rang, and the old steward hurried out to answer it.
Wen Tingli seized the opportunity, turning around and looking up at Lu Shicheng behind her: “I got so nervous during the award ceremony that I forgot to mention something rather important to young Master Lu — now what was it, let me think.”
As she spoke, she pressed a hand to her forehead, pretending to think hard, and used the moment to let her gaze sweep quickly around the study.
Blast it — she was too far from the desk, and besides, the tall figure of Lu Shicheng stood between her and it.
Looking up again, she found Lu Shicheng gazing at her with a meaningful expression, and she hurried to say: “I remember now — that batch of Western dresses young Master Lu had someone compensate me with last time, they’re a bit too big for me, and I didn’t want them to go to waste, so I brought them back to school. Could I ask young Master Lu to have someone return them to the department store?”
Lu Shicheng didn’t respond for a moment, as if trying to work out what Wen Tingli meant by this.
What a forgetful, important man he was! Wen Tingli pointed to her own arm: “Last time, my clothes were… were torn by the theater’s stage set, and Mr. Kuang compensated me with a whole batch of expensive Western dresses. Since I can’t wear them, it would be such a waste to just let them gather dust at home — young Master Lu, please have someone return them for me. I’ve only tried on one of them, so it won’t affect the store’s ability to keep selling the rest.”
This time Lu Shicheng did react, but only by raising his wrist to check the time.
Wen Tingli’s face grew even hotter — this was the first time she’d seen such a dismissive expression on Lu Shicheng’s face, as if he thought this small matter wasn’t even worth responding to, or perhaps, to him, once something was given away, there was simply no notion of taking it back — so he chose not to respond at all.
The atmosphere grew a little awkward, but if she gave up here, she wouldn’t be Wen Tingli.
Her eyes lit up, and she promptly pulled two tickets from her book bag.
“If young Master Lu insists on not returning them for me, then I’ll have to send you a return gift instead. Next week, Golden Theater is holding several complimentary performances — these are the only two first-class box seat tickets, which Manager Zhao gave me out of respect for my status as champion. This is the finest gift I currently have to offer in return — I wonder if you and Mr. Kuang would do me the honor of attending?”
Her gaze was so pure, her tone so sincere, and looking up at him so earnestly like this, even the hardest of hearts would melt.
Lu Shicheng paused slightly, his gaze falling to the tickets in her hand, a thoughtful look crossing his face. Wen Tingli’s heart leapt into her throat, and Lu Shicheng nodded to her, as if expressing thanks, but in the end he didn’t take the tickets, instead pointing outward and continuing to lead her onward.
Seizing the opportunity, Wen Tingli quickly turned to sweep her gaze over the desk once more, then, unhurried, caught up to Lu Shicheng, saying tentatively: “So does that mean you’ve agreed to have the dresses returned?”
Lu Shicheng once again pointed apologetically at his wristwatch, meaning he had other matters to attend to, then turned to look around, and seeing the old steward still on the phone, seemed to be looking for another servant to see her out.
Wen Tingli looked down at the steps beneath her feet, dejected — clearly, Lu Shicheng wasn’t buying any of what she was selling. Fortunately, though he’d flatly declined her request without much explanation, his manner hadn’t been humiliating in any way.
She blamed herself — she’d been too impatient about the whole matter with Dean Deng. Given how things had gone with Lu Shicheng, she worried she might not get another chance to see him again.
Fortunately, she’d managed to get a good, thorough look at the items on the desk amid the confusion. She’d spotted a customs declaration form on the desk — perhaps it was nothing significant, but at least it wasn’t a total loss.
The servants of the Lu residence all seemed to be at dinner. Lu Shicheng looked around for a while, but still couldn’t spot anyone passing by nearby. He glanced back at the steward still busy on the phone in the parlor, then looked at the clock on the wall, hesitated slightly, and finally walked ahead down the steps on his own.
Wen Tingli, looking up despondently, suddenly noticed Lu Shicheng was still waiting for her below.
Though a little puzzled, she immediately decided to follow along.
Lu Shicheng led her around a turn past the flower beds, then onto a tree-lined path planted with red-leaf plum trees. The two of them walked one after the other, and before long, they came upon a large garage, its doors open, several cars parked inside. Lu Shicheng walked up to one of the cars, pulled out his keys, opened the door, then turned back and nodded to Wen Tingli, gesturing for her to get in.
Only then did Wen Tingli understand that Lu Shicheng intended to personally see her out. Her heart leapt with joy, but she pretended to be reserved as she stepped forward: “Thank you, young Master Lu.”
Lu Shicheng waited for her to get in, then started the engine and drove the car out toward the garden gates.