The carriage was considerably more cramped than the reception hall.

In this narrow space, even the strands of Wen Tingli’s hair seemed to behave themselves.

She could hear every breath Lu Shicheng took, that light, unhurried sound amplified without limit across the very short distance between them.

The air seemed to flow with some invisible, sticky liquid that glued down all the lively little joints of Wen Tingli’s body.

She hardly dared move.

But her mind never stopped for a moment.

This time she’d come back defeated, but she still had to manufacture some opportunity to get close to the Lu family again next time.

Unfortunately, she’d exhausted her bag of tricks — what good plan could she possibly come up with in such a short span of time? Fortunately her brain didn’t make a clicking sound when it turned, or Lu Shicheng would surely have been too distracted by the noise in Wen Tingli’s head to drive properly.

There were no lights on inside the carriage, but the streetlamps of the Lu mansion lit up one by one ahead, their dim yellow glow sweeping past the car body in a blur, and her field of vision flickered light and dark along with it. Suddenly something flashed brilliantly at the corner of her eye — Wen Tingli’s gaze slid over and found it was Lu Shicheng’s cufflink, small as a silver bead, dazzling under the streetlight.

An idea immediately sprang into Wen Tingli’s mind.

She coughed lightly once, then a second time, as if she’d been caught by the night wind.

Lu Shicheng glanced at Wen Tingli in the mirror.

Wen Tingli apologized, “Sorry,” and while continuing to cough, bent her head to search her book bag for a handkerchief. She knew her coughing and crying were both consummate skills — no one could ever tell they were faked.

She searched once without finding it, and had to lift her book bag up higher so she could keep searching by the streetlamp’s light. As a result, in a convenient “accident,” the bag happened to fall right at the two of their feet.

Wen Tingli hurriedly bent down to look for it. Lu Shicheng braked and stopped the car; right at that moment the handkerchief was found. Wen Tingli covered her mouth with the handkerchief, picked up the bag and set it on her lap, and then sat there in unusual stillness, as if she had managed to hold back her cough.

Lu Shicheng waited a few seconds, and seeing she was no longer searching for anything, started driving again, going straight to the mansion gate.

The gatekeeper came over to help open the door. Wen Tingli said, “Thank you, Young Master Lu.”

After getting out of the car, she bowed once more, did not linger, and turned to leave the Lu mansion.

The moment she stepped out, she heard the engine rev behind the gate — Lu Shicheng really was in a hurry. He gave her a slight nod, turned the steering wheel, and drove back the way he’d come.

Not staying a moment longer.

Wen Tingli seemed frozen in place, just staring at her own shadow beneath the streetlamp. After a good while she shrugged and headed in the opposite direction to catch the tram back to school.

Back at Cixin Hospital, Wen Tingli wasn’t in a hurry to go in. Instead, she went first to a public phone booth to call Li Chengying.

The phone rang many times before it was answered. While waiting, Wen Tingli gazed forlornly at the hospital gate across the street. At this hour, Superintendent Deng would normally be either working on the fourth floor or making rounds in the wards. Now, though…

Li Chengying picked up.

Wen Tingli gripped the receiver and said in a low voice, “I just came from the Lu mansion… yes, it’s a customs declaration form, the trading company handling the customs clearance is called ‘Dunpuer’ Warehouse… I didn’t see anything else.”

It was her first time doing this kind of thing, and without realizing it she’d broken into a sweat from the tension. Back in the hospital room, she showed Xiao Taozi the shining gold medal.

Xiao Taozi pointed at the characters on the medal one by one with her chubby little fingers, babbling away.

Wen Tingli laughed at the sight, took hold of her little sister’s hand, and taught her: “Silly Xiao Taozi, this character is read ‘yu’.”

Zhou Sao seemed even more delighted than she had been the last time Wen Tingli won the drama competition championship: “Miss, just look at this medal — this was awarded by the school itself. If you hadn’t studied so diligently, you’d never have won first prize like this. All that staying up late poring over your books wasn’t for nothing.”

That night Wen Tingli switched shifts with Zhou Sao — Zhou Sao stayed at the hospital with the attendant to look after Wen Desheng, while Wen Tingli took Xiao Taozi back to stay at their newly rented place.

After the two sisters washed up, Wen Tingli found a little ball for Xiao Taozi to hold and play with, while she herself sat under the lamp carefully sewing small pockets into the lining of every piece of her close-fitting undergarments.

The pockets were just the right size to hold the small rolled-up bundle made of the check and the silver notes, and from the outside you could barely tell they were there. Once she’d finished sewing, Wen Tingli let out a satisfied sigh looking at the pile of notes. Adding this new check, she now had a full three thousand silver dollars to her name.

She pointed at the amount Lu Shicheng had signed, showing it to Xiao Taozi: “Recognize this? This is eight hundred silver dollars, that Sister won. Isn’t that great?”

Xiao Taozi held up the ball in her hand: “Sister, great!” Her voice was clear and loud, as if she had a little whistle hidden in her mouth.

“Shh, shh.” Wen Tingli hurriedly pressed a finger to her lips in alarm. This rented place Mrs. Qiao had found for them was shabby and cramped, and the door panels were especially thin — at night you could hear clearly even if a neighbor coughed once. Precisely because of this, Wen Tingli didn’t dare leave the money at home.

Once the money was safely hidden away, Wen Tingli reached into the inner pocket of her book bag and pulled out a small parcel — this was her mother’s legacy. Ever since they’d moved, she had kept this parcel in her book bag, carrying it with her at all times.

She opened it up: inside were a few scattered pieces of jewelry — a tiny jade earring, a gold ring, a gold bracelet…

Xiao Taozi imitated her sister, touching this and that, muttering numbers under her breath. When she discovered there were only four pieces of jewelry, her expression grew a little confused.

“Are you wondering where Mama’s necklace went?” Wen Tingli asked quietly against Xiao Taozi’s plump little cheek.

Xiao Taozi clapped her hands: “Necklace?”

That diamond, though no bigger than a small fingernail, had been their mother’s most expensive piece of jewelry while she was alive. Beneath the diamond was a custom-made heart-shaped pendant holding a small photograph of their mother. Every time Wen Tingli missed her mother, she would lie on her bed and gaze at the photo inside that necklace, which was why Xiao Taozi remembered that necklace most vividly of all.

“Don’t worry, it’ll come back soon.” Wen Tingli tapped Xiao Taozi’s forehead mysteriously, then yawned and flopped onto the bed, rolling over and spreading her arms wide toward the ceiling, speaking to it with complete confidence.

The next day at school, Wen Tingli waited with full assurance for news.

As it turned out, she’d miscalculated — no one from the Lu family came to find her.

The third day was the same.

Wen Tingli was starting to lose her composure. As the saying went, sometimes you had to take risks in battle — if she hadn’t deliberately left the necklace behind in Lu Shicheng’s car, how else would she have a chance to speak with him again? But that night had been so dark, if the necklace had rolled off the seat into some corner, it wouldn’t be strange at all if Lu Shicheng hadn’t noticed it.

The more Wen Tingli thought about it, the more her heart ached. Just as she was considering whether to go to the Lu mansion herself to ask for it back, someone came looking for her.

At dusk after school let out, Wen Tingli was squeezing onto the tram as usual when she suddenly saw someone waving to her from across the street.

“Mr. Kuang?”

Kuang Zhilin stood by his car, smiling as he watched Wen Tingli approach.

“Miss Wen, how have you been?”

“Thanks to your concern, everything’s fine. Are you… just passing through?”

“There’s a board meeting at Wushi this afternoon and I’m here on Young Master Lu’s behalf. By the way, Miss Wen—” Kuang Zhilin’s smile didn’t waver, but his gaze suddenly sharpened. “Have you lost something recently?”

Wen Tingli started, her hand instinctively reaching toward her own neck. “Oh, how did you know?”

Kuang Zhilin watched Wen Tingli’s face without any change in his own expression; however he looked at it, there wasn’t a single flaw in her look of surprise.

Little did he know Wen Tingli had already secretly deployed all the acting skill and effort she usually reserved for the stage against him.

They stood locked in this standoff for a while, until Kuang Zhilin suddenly smiled. “May I ask what it is Miss Wen has lost?”

Wen Tingli seemed to suddenly understand. “Could it be I left it behind at the Lu mansion that night? It’s a necklace, with my mother’s photograph inside. Did you find it there?”

Kuang Zhilin took a small red velvet pouch from his suit pocket.

“Take a look — is this it?”

“Oh, so it really was left at the Lu mansion!” Wen Tingli was both startled and delighted. “I’m so sorry to have troubled you to make this special trip, Mr. Kuang.”

“It’s no trouble at all.” Kuang Zhilin’s smile was flawless. “I’m just a bit puzzled how this necklace ended up in Young Master Lu’s car. From what I heard, that night Miss Wen was there specifically to receive an award.”

A cold sweat quietly broke out on Wen Tingli’s back, though her face betrayed nothing. “Oh, I rode out in Young Master Lu’s car. I was looking for a handkerchief in the car at the time — I must have accidentally pulled it out of my bag without noticing.”

Right in front of Kuang Zhilin, she kissed the necklace with infinite tenderness — this joy of recovering something lost was, without question, genuine and heartfelt.

Kuang Zhilin said nothing for a good while. Wen Tingli knew he was studying her, but the more shrewd a man like Kuang Zhilin was, the more clearly he’d be able to grasp one simple truth: if she had really wanted to find an excuse to get close to Lu Shicheng, she would have latched onto him already, back when she’d been shot.

That had been a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Yet last time, she had done nothing at all.

Whether during her hospital stay or after being discharged, whether in front of Mr. Kuang or in front of that attendant, she had never once inquired about Lu Shicheng. Even when she’d later borrowed on Mr. Kuang’s influence, it had only been because she was nearly expelled by Michelle and had no other choice.

All of this, Kuang Zhilin surely understood quite well.

To further dispel Kuang Zhilin’s suspicions, she simply added: “These are my mother’s keepsakes. I usually carry them around with me in my book bag.”

“You keep jewelry in your book bag?”

Wen Tingli took out a small velvet pouch from her book bag and, right in front of Kuang Zhilin, put the necklace inside it.

The suspicion in Kuang Zhilin’s eyes was instantly replaced by surprise.

“My father is still in the hospital. I don’t feel safe leaving valuables like these at the rented place,” Wen Tingli said, trying to sound as offhand as possible.

Kuang Zhilin’s expression relaxed somewhat, though his tone remained formal.

“It’s admirable that Miss Wen is so sensible. Still, do be more careful next time.”

“I really must thank you.” Seizing the moment, she pulled out the theater tickets from before. “On Sunday evening the Golden Theater is holding its anniversary celebration. They’ve invited the big stars from Golden Films, Duan Miaoqing and Shen Yingying, to perform. Right now a lot of people are trying to get tickets — I only managed to get two first-class box seats after quite a struggle. Let me give these two to you.”

“Thank you for your kind thought, Miss Wen, but there’s no need.”

Wen Tingli couldn’t hide her disappointed expression. “Last time, since I won the championship representing Wushi Girls’ Middle School, the theater arranged a special performance for me too. Unfortunately Vice Principal Michelle has to go to Hangzhou, so she can’t attend that evening. If Mr. Kuang and perhaps some board member could come to show support, it would mean the world to me as a student.”

Perhaps it was the phrase “student representative of Wushi” that moved him — this time Kuang Zhilin actually thought it over. “What terrible timing — this Saturday I have to help prepare for a charity auction, and because of that, I’ll be busy with all sorts of things the entire weekend. Tell you what — I’ll mention it to the other board members, and we’ll be sure to send a representative to watch Miss Wen’s performance when the time comes. How’s that?”

Having said this, Kuang Zhilin chuckled to himself, nodded, and got into his car.

Wen Tingli wiped the sweat from her brow and went to the phone booth to call Li Chengying, but the call wouldn’t go through. She then called the Shuguang Law Firm instead.

“Lawyer Bao,” Wen Tingli said, getting straight to the point. “Please find out where in Shanghai there’s a charity auction being held this Saturday evening.”

Two minutes later, Bao Yaming’s voice came through the receiver again: “The Shanghai branch of the Nanyang Commercial and Industrial League is holding a small evening event to raise supplies. The address is Garden Terrace on Route Père Robert. I hear they’ve invited quite a number of prominent figures — the Lu family chairs the Nanyang League, so they’re probably one of the hosts of this event. What’s this, has something come up with Lu Shicheng?”

Wen Tingli made a sound of acknowledgment. “Both Lu Shicheng and Kuang Zhilin will be there that evening. Should we start preparing early on our end?”

“I’m busy with something else this Saturday,” Bao Yaming mused. “Tell you what — I’ll find out who’s been invited that evening. If there are any people from the arts world attending, I’ll see about getting you an admission ticket. How’s that?”

“That won’t do… this kind of charity auction wouldn’t normally invite a poor student. If you forcibly got me a ticket, it would only expose the fact that I have close ties with Shuguang Law Firm. Let’s do it this way instead — you should have already looked over my film contract by now. Tomorrow I’ll go find Manager Huang about it, and use the opportunity to ask her for an admission ticket.”

“That works too,” Bao Yaming said. “There’s just one thing — these charity auctions usually require guests to bring something valuable to donate on the spot. Before you go, I’ll have someone prepare a few auction items suitable for your status as a student. I’ll have people stationed outside the venue that night to assist you; if anything goes wrong, we’ll get you out immediately.”

But Wen Tingli said, “No need to trouble yourself with that. I have something ready to donate already.”

After hanging up the phone, Wen Tingli used the pretext of discussing the contract to arrange a meeting with Huang Yuanshan.

Having made these two calls, Wen Tingli nearly had to pull out her handkerchief again to wipe the sweat off — she and Lu Shicheng practically lived in two different worlds; trying to find opportunities to get close to him was truly exhausting.

Saturday afternoon, which should have been prime studying time, Wen Tingli reluctantly sacrificed two hours to dress up. She tried on nearly every outfit in her wardrobe and finally chose a pale-yellow French silk dress — her most expensive dress, made from imported fabric her father had once had tailored for her at a Western clothing shop. This kind of dress was too formal for everyday wear, but perfect for an evening party.

Once dressed, she stood before the mirror and combed up her thick, curly hair.

Half of it was gathered at the crown, held with a large ivory-white silk bow, the rest left cascading over her shoulders. Once done up, she looked exactly like a bouquet of dark, alluring yellow tulips.

Dressed like this, she could hardly squeeze onto a third-class tram, so she had booked a car from the Xiangsheng car company ahead of time. When she arrived at Garden Terrace, she could already see from a distance the mansion lit up bright as day, guests streaming in and out at the entrance, silky music flowing out from the garden.

Wen Tingli took a moment in the car to steady her breathing before gracefully pushing the door open and stepping out. The instant she was standing outside the gate, she heard someone call from behind her: “Wen Tingli.”

She turned to find it was Qiao Baoxin. Qiao Baoxin walked over in delighted surprise and took Wen Tingli’s hand. “What are you doing here too? By the way, whatever happened last time — Michelle hasn’t come to our house in ages.”

“It’s a long story to explain right now. Anyway, she won’t dare give me trouble again. I’ll explain it to you properly some other time.”

Qiao Baoxin let out a long sigh of relief. “That’s good, then. As long as Michelle isn’t making trouble with my mother, my mother can’t do anything to you.”

Her expression brightening, she took to squeezing Wen Tingli’s hand while looking her up and down. “This dress is so pretty — actually, you’d look good even wearing rags, Wen Tingli.”

She pointed over to one side. “I came with my little cousin — he’s over there talking with someone, told me to wait for him here.”

Wen Tingli went quiet for a moment, then said softly, “I need to go to the powder room first. I’ll find you again later.”

Just then, a commotion rose at the entrance: “Someone from the Lu family has arrived.”

Wen Tingli’s eyes immediately picked out Lu Shicheng, surrounded like the moon amid the stars.

Before he could reach her side, she quietly stepped back into the dim shadows.

Her eye-catching pale-yellow dress had already stood out in the crowd, and this deliberate little retreat made her stand out even more — Lu Shicheng almost immediately, without thinking, glanced in Wen Tingli’s direction. Catching sight of her, his gaze visibly lingered for a beat.

Wen Tingli, outwardly busy chatting with Qiao Baoxin, kept Lu Shicheng’s every movement in the corner of her eye, and one glance was enough to make her regret her move — she should have known better than to step back.

But she reacted quickly, turning back at once and offering Lu Shicheng an especially charming smile.

Lu Shicheng, looking thoughtful, withdrew his gaze and walked on.

Wen Tingli felt uneasy. What if he suddenly realized she’d been showing up around him far too often lately?

Qiao Baoxin turned her head, looking around. “Why hasn’t my little cousin come yet? It’s so hot here. Tingli, does my makeup look like it’s running? Should we just go in?”

The two of them handed their invitations to the attendant at the door. Over there, a plump lady waved to Qiao Baoxin: “Baoxin, didn’t your mother and sister-in-law come?”

Qiao Baoxin had no choice but to go over and greet her. Wen Tingli went by herself, carrying her items to the registration desk to record her auction donation. The clerk looked at the large box in her hands and asked with a smile, “What is it Miss Wen would like to auction off?”

“This box on top I’m donating on someone else’s behalf — for the donor’s name, please be sure to write down Mr. Lu Shicheng. The box underneath is my own donation.”

The two Nanyang clerks exchanged a slightly surprised glance, as if unable to guess what her relationship to Lu Shicheng might be. Wen Tingli remained calm and composed, finished the registration, and went out into the garden by herself for some air.

Looking around, she saw nothing but unfamiliar faces. She was good at socializing, but she also enjoyed this occasional sense of freedom, drifting along the edges of a crowd. She wandered a bit to the left, a bit to the right, and whenever some stranger’s gaze landed on her with goodwill, she was sure to return it with a smile.

Wherever Wen Tingli went, several curious glances always trailed behind her — this girl smiled before she even spoke, her face and figure so lovely that people couldn’t tear their eyes away, and once she smiled, that smile seemed to seep sweetness straight into people’s hearts. A group of young gentlemen in the garden were itching to approach her, but held back, unsure of who she was.

The weather was hot, and after only a few laps she’d already broken a sweat. Wen Tingli went to the drinks table and picked up a glass of iced orange juice, sipping it with her head bowed, when she suddenly heard the emcee announce loudly inside: “Mr. Lu Shicheng has donated ten sets of Chanel women’s dresses — please prepare your bids.”

People exchanged astonished, faintly amused looks, whispering to each other: “Young Master Lu? Donating women’s dresses?”

“Could there be some mistake? Didn’t they say earlier that the Lu family was donating five hundred thousand silver dollars directly?”

Right after that, the next donor’s name was announced inside: “Miss Wen Tingli has donated a brand-new German Bonawa camera.”

The Bonawa was currently the most advanced camera in the world; sold through a trading house, it would fetch nearly two thousand silver dollars. That figure was nothing remarkable among tonight’s array of donations, but for a young person to donate such an item struck just the right balance — dignified, without being ostentatious.

Wen Tingli calmly accepted the attention now pouring in from all directions. This camera was the spoils from her drama competition championship; she’d originally thought of simply selling it for cash, but worried the old scholars at the film association might hear about it and say a girl her age reeked of vulgar materialism. Given such a good opportunity, she figured she might as well donate it to raise charity funds.

Set against each other, Lu Shicheng’s “ten sets of women’s dresses” looked all the more absurd by comparison.

No matter which corner of the room she wandered to afterward, Wen Tingli kept hearing people joking about the matter: “Hasn’t that young master from the Lu family never even been engaged? Then where on earth did all those women’s dresses come from? Don’t tell me he’s been collecting them for himself?”

Joking aside, the dresses Lu Shicheng had donated proved unexpectedly popular. The moment they were placed on the bidding stage, over a dozen ladies and matrons competed fiercely to bid on them.

After a heated round of bidding, the ten dresses ultimately went, at high prices, to jewelry magnate’s daughter Yu Zhenhua and Miss Yuan, a famous socialite from a prominent Tianjin family.

Throughout the auction, Lu Shicheng, as the head of the Nanyang Commercial and Industrial League, sat down below the entire time.

Wen Tingli stood at the back and couldn’t see his expression clearly, but judging from his back, he seemed outwardly composed.

While signing the checks, Yu Zhenhua and Miss Yuan, faces glowing with delight, put forward a request — they wanted to take a photograph with Lu Shicheng, the donor of these dresses.

This time Lu Shicheng was not so cooperative, remaining seated where he was without moving for a long while.

Several directors of the Nanyang League appealed to him with reason and sentiment both, and only with great effort managed to coax him up onto the stage.

The ten dresses had sold for such an extravagant sum — that was the first cause for joy. As the host of this charity auction, receiving such enthusiastic support from the guests present — that was the second. With double happiness upon him, Lu Shicheng really had no reason not to cooperate.

The photo was to be taken at the auction stage.

Yu Zhenhua stood smilingly to Lu Shicheng’s left, Miss Yuan, her face flushed with joy, stood to his right. After the first photo was taken, neither lady was satisfied, and both asked in unison for Lu Shicheng to move a bit, saying that would make their faces look smaller and daintier.

Hearing this, Lu Shicheng, expression unchanged, tucked his hands into his trouser pockets and stepped back. Yu Zhenhua laughed loudly, “Wrong way!” and Lu Shicheng patiently stepped forward instead.

Down below, Wen Tingli was nearly doubled over laughing — the way Lu Shicheng looked right then, he seemed exactly like some “young master” being fussed over by two wealthy society ladies at a pleasure house.

The two adorable, wealthy young ladies were positively beaming — they surely hadn’t imagined they’d get the chance to toy with Lu Shicheng like this.

Before long, the camera Wen Tingli had donated also sold for a decent price. The winning bidder was a young man surnamed Wang from Georges & Co. trading house. When signing the check, this man too requested a photograph with the donor, Wen Tingli.

The moment Wen Tingli stepped onto the stage, she felt a gaze latch onto her — lowering her eyes, she found Lu Shicheng watching her, expression unreadable.

That gaze was so calm, and yet so meaningful.

He must already know she’d been the one behind all this. Wen Tingli did her best not to look guilty, but couldn’t quite withstand the pressure in Lu Shicheng’s gaze. Even after he looked away not long after, Wen Tingli still felt a chill on the back of her neck now and then. After the photo, Young Master Wang seized the chance to ask where Wen Tingli went to school, and invited her to see a movie the next day.

Once Young Master Wang started this trend, one by one, some department store heir, some bank manager, all came over to strike up conversation with Wen Tingli.

Unable to bear the nuisance any longer, Wen Tingli made an excuse and went downstairs to find Qiao Baoxin.

Strange to say, the hallway, which had been quite lively before, was now cold and nearly empty as she walked along it. Just as she was thinking this odd, she suddenly caught sight of a figure standing at the bottom of the stairs.

This person seemed to be waiting there specifically for her.

By the looks of it, he had come to settle scores with her. Wen Tingli’s foot suddenly twisted; she scrambled to grab the stair railing but failed to check her momentum in time, tumbling “thump-thump-thump” down countless steps in a row, plunging straight toward the bottom.

In despair, she squeezed her eyes shut — this was it, her tailbone would surely shatter into eight pieces.

Unexpectedly, someone reached out in time and caught her.

She opened her eyes — it was Lu Shicheng.

Still shaken, she managed, “Thank you.”

Lu Shicheng closed his eyes briefly, and once she was steady on her feet, drew his arm back. Only then did Wen Tingli realize she was still gripping tightly onto him, and hurriedly let go. Sneaking a glance up, she saw Lu Shicheng looking down at her, expression unreadable, giving her a gesture that meant “come with me” before turning and walking off first.

Wen Tingli followed, feigning composure.