The headmistress sighed with emotion. “Very well, we’ll process the paperwork today according to Miss Wen’s wishes. ‘Kuang Weihang’—hm, what a truly fine name. Wen Xiaotao, do you like this name yourself?”

Xiao Taozi looked up at Wen Tingli, and from her sister’s eyes, in her innocent way, she seemed to understand something too. She nodded her little head firmly at the headmistress.

That day, after finishing filming a commercial on set, Wen Tingli happened to think of Kuang Zhilin and gave him a call.

That night, for her sake, he had rushed over at midnight, exhausting himself greatly. For that kindness, she really ought to thank him in person properly.

But his secretary told her that Mr. Kuang was busy entertaining distinguished guests from Guangzhou, and wouldn’t be in the office for the next few days.

Guangzhou again—what sort of distinguished guest could occupy Kuang Zhilin’s entire days? Wen Tingli couldn’t help growing curious about this person’s identity.

The second evening, Kuang Zhilin actually called her himself.

“Mr. Kuang?” Wen Tingli sat on the sofa, smiling as she spoke. “Yes, I called a couple of days ago to thank you—yes, the new film’s doing quite well, thanks to your good words… actually, I saw you at the premiere that night.”

Kuang Zhilin laughed apologetically on the other end. “My sincere apologies—these past few days, busy entertaining some important guests from out of town, I completely forgot to return Miss Wen’s call. The day after tomorrow you’d like to treat me to tea at the Dingxin Restaurant at the Gao family’s place? And a thank-you gift too? No, no, no, I really didn’t help with that matter at all—Miss Wen, there’s no need to be so courteous. Alright, alright, alright, if I keep this up I’ll seem ungracious. I’ll be there right on time.”

That Saturday evening, after attending an event hosted by Vice Chairman Weng of the Shanghai Film Association, Wen Tingli rushed straight to Xiaonantian.

She was hosting a dinner for friends there that night.

The place was quite tranquil, tucked in an alley near Rue Lafayette, five stories high, with only two tables served per floor—and the food and wine there were also top-notch.

Wen Tingli got out of the car at the back entrance, and was immediately led upstairs. The interior of the restaurant was decorated in a Chinese-Western fusion style—a rose-colored hall, ivory marble pilasters, thick carpet on the floor. Here, one couldn’t hear the usual drinking-game shouts and clamor typical of restaurants.

Their table was on the second floor. Gao Xiaowen waved to Wen Tingli. “We’ve just been waiting for you.”

“Is the food ordered?” Wen Tingli asked with a smile.

“All ordered,” Zhao Qingluo whispered to Wen Tingli. “Yan Zhenzhen and Gao Xiaowen made sure not to save you any money—picked out all the expensive dishes on the menu. I’m afraid you’ll go bankrupt.”

“Zhao Qingluo, quit it—Wen Tingli’s not who she used to be. This little money is nothing to her.”

Halfway through the meal, Dong Qinfang left the table to go to the washroom, and on returning said, “Guess who I saw—Kuang Zhilin.”

Wen Tingli asked quickly, “He’s eating here too?”

“I saw him leading some people upstairs, but unfortunately I didn’t get a good look at that guest’s face.”

Wen Tingli said to her friends, “The day of the premiere, Mr. Kuang brought along quite a few friends to support me. I never got the chance to thank him properly afterward—I think I should go over and say hello.”

She found the manager to ask, and only then learned the entire third floor had been reserved. To protect the guests’ privacy, the manager initially refused point-blank to lead her up, only relenting once Wen Tingli took out Kuang Zhilin’s business card from her bag to show him.

The third floor was even quieter than the second. At the end of the hallway was a private room, its two gilt-lacquered doors wide open, with waiters carrying silver trays filing in one after another. Wen Tingli walked to the doorway of the small hall and peered inside, seeing only two people seated at the enormous round table.

One was Kuang Zhilin; the other was a fashionably dressed young woman. Kuang Zhilin was personally pouring champagne for this young woman. Both had their backs to the door, so neither noticed Wen Tingli’s arrival.

Wen Tingli hadn’t expected the guest to be a woman. Afraid of intruding, she hurriedly retreated back into the hallway—then, suddenly realizing something, turned back in surprise to look inside again.

She saw a suit jacket hanging on the empty chair to the left of the round table, with a jade brooch pinned to its breast pocket.

Wen Tingli recognized it at a glance—that was Lu Shicheng’s tie clip. A guess vaguely surfaced in her mind, and she quickly moved her gaze back to the young woman.

This time, she looked extremely carefully. Suddenly, hearing footsteps approaching from the other end of the hallway, she hurried to hide behind a nearby screen, peering out through the gap—the person approaching was indeed Lu Shicheng.

He walked straight into the small hall, pulled out the empty chair, and sat down. Looking over the dishes on the table, he had the waiter place the menu in front of the young woman. “What else would Miss Ge like to eat?”

The young woman pushed the menu back toward him. “You order, Mr. Lu—I’m not familiar with Shanghai, and besides, I trust your taste.”

Lu Shicheng said nothing more, carefully looking over the menu.

Wen Tingli took the opportunity, as the next round of waiters came in to serve dishes, to slip out from behind the screen.

On her way downstairs, she ran into Yan Zhenzhen, who said in her ear, “What took you so long—we’ve already finished off both plates of pork knuckle.”

By the time they were finishing up, they saw that Miss Ge and Lu Shicheng were coming down from upstairs one after the other, with Kuang Zhilin following behind them.

Wen Tingli hid herself toward the back of the group. Miss Ge seemed to be in quite good spirits, turning back to speak to Lu Shicheng as she walked. Lu Shicheng, who was never one to put on airs in front of others, was consistently gentle and refined before this Miss Ge as well, occasionally responding with a few words, but mostly just listening quietly.

Miss Ge had her own car, her driver waiting beside it, but Kuang Zhilin still went over to open the car door for her.

Just as Miss Ge got in, she leaned back out to say something to Lu Shicheng.

Lu Shicheng nodded, and only then did Miss Ge close the car door with a smile. After she left, Lu Shicheng and Kuang Zhilin got into another car and left together.

Wen Tingli stared fixedly ahead, her gaze sharp. Zhao Qingluo and the others didn’t dare speak up rashly. In the end, it was Gao Xiaowen who broke the silence first. “Who was that just now? We at the Gao family know quite a lot of people in Shanghai, but I’ve never seen that particular character before.”

Dong Qinfang coughed once. “That’s the granddaughter of Chairman Ge of the Guangdong Chamber of Commerce. I met her a couple of days ago at Director Zheng’s place from the Shipping Bureau.”

Gao Xiaowen clicked her tongue. “The Ge family? The Ge family that used to do business with the Qing court?”

“That’s right, that very Ge family. With Miss Ge’s arrival, quite a few households in Shanghai have been stirring—the Zheng family invited her over to visit, and even my own grandfather urged me to go meet her. But I heard…”

She glanced at Wen Tingli’s expression, and said rather discreetly, “Ever since Miss Ge came to Shanghai, it seems the Lu family has been the one in charge of entertaining her.”

“Is the Lu family close with the Ge family?”

“That I’m not sure of, but didn’t Lu Shicheng go to Guangzhou a while back? Perhaps the two of them got acquainted there this time—they’re around the same age too, come to think of it.”

On the way back, Wen Tingli thought over Dong Qinfang’s words.

If she remembered correctly, it was tonight that Dong Qinfang had told her about Kuang Zhilin entertaining guests upstairs.

Could it be that Dong Qinfang had already spotted Lu Shicheng and Miss Ge at that time?

Dong Qinfang wasn’t like Gao Xiaowen—she was the actual head of the current generation of the Dong family, mature and worldly-wise, and never one to stir up trouble unnecessarily. Could it be that she’d already heard about this matter, and had found a way to get Wen Tingli to go up and see for herself?

The moment she got home, she called the Dong residence. Dong Qinfang sighed on the other end. “That clever little head of yours—nothing gets past you. What do you want to ask?”

“Tell me everything you know, or I’ll never forgive you.”

Dong Qinfang then told her everything she’d seen and heard over the past couple of days. It turned out that when Lu Shicheng had gone to discuss business at the Guangdong Chamber of Commerce previously, Chairman Ge had taken an instant liking to him, and had since remarked more than once in front of others about how the Lu family had a worthy successor.

This time, Miss Ge’s visit to Shanghai was arranged by Chairman Ge himself. Lu Shicheng was not yet married, and Miss Ge was of a suitable age too—outside speculation was rife over whether the Ge family intended to propose a marriage alliance with the Lu family.

“Most of the time, it’s Kuang Zhilin entertaining Miss Ge,” Dong Qinfang said. “Regardless of what the actual relationship between Lu Shicheng and Miss Ge is, at the very least, on the surface, the Lu family clearly takes their dealings with the Ge family very seriously. Let me ask you—what exactly is going on between you and Lu Shicheng? Have you two really broken things off completely?”

“Broken off. Long since broken off, cleanly and completely.”

With this incident weighing on her, Wen Tingli had initially thought about canceling tomorrow’s tea appointment with Kuang Zhilin, planning at most to have someone deliver the thank-you gift she’d prepared for him to his residence instead.

But Kuang Zhilin was a famously busy man—he wouldn’t easily agree to invitations for meals or tea unless the person was important to him. It was rare enough that he’d agreed to come out for tea; canceling on him at the last minute would only make her seem unreliable.

So the following evening, after dinner at home, she still set off by car for the Gao family’s Dingxin Restaurant as originally planned. She’d chosen the Gao family’s restaurant precisely because Gao Xiaowen was one of her own—with the Gao family’s protection, she wouldn’t need to worry about running into fans or reporters.

But for some reason, Driver Old Li, midway through the drive, suddenly swerved straight toward a roadside telephone booth. Wen Tingli was frightened out of her wits. “Old Li!”

Old Li slammed on the brakes hard—the car did stop, but his head struck the steering wheel.

Wen Tingli was jolted forward too, from the back.

Old Li, ignoring his own injuries, flustered, turned his head back. “Miss Wen, are you alright? I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened just now…”

Wen Tingli rubbed her forehead, silent for a moment. Then she looked up and was suddenly startled.

“Old Li, look at all that blood on your head—no, we need to get to a hospital right away.”

“It’s nothing serious. Let me get Miss Wen to Dingxin Restaurant first.”

“A head injury is nothing to take lightly.” Wen Tingli anxiously turned to look around them. “The Red Cross Hospital is nearby—wait by the car, I’ll go flag down a couple of rickshaws.”

The two of them made it to the hospital. Thankfully, Old Li had only cut the corner of his eye. Wen Tingli herself had thought she’d only suffered a minor scrape, but while helping Old Li out of the car in her hurry, she hadn’t noticed a step by the road, and had kicked it hard enough to draw blood from the nail of her right big toe—requiring immediate disinfection and treatment.

The ER doctor had originally arranged to treat Wen Tingli in the main lobby, but a sharp-eyed fan in the area immediately recognized her.

“Are you Miss Wen, from The Graceful Detective?”

Once this was said, curious passersby kept gathering around from all directions. The hospital had no choice but to urgently arrange a private room for Wen Tingli. Wen Tingli, growing anxious inside, had no idea how much longer this would take, and asked a nurse to arrange an attendant for her, having the attendant call Dingxin Restaurant.

“If Mr. Kuang has already arrived at the second-floor tea room, please trouble Miss Gao to relay a message to him: I’m at the Red Cross Hospital, just a minor injury—it’ll be dealt with in half an hour. Please ask Mr. Kuang to wait a little.”

Before long, the attendant returned and said, “Your friend hasn’t arrived yet, but Miss Gao says she’ll come to the hospital to look after you as soon as possible.”

“Tell her not to come—by the time she gets here, my wound will already be healed.”

Having relayed all this, Wen Tingli lay on the hospital bed, and the more she thought about it, the more suspicious this car accident seemed.

Suddenly she heard footsteps outside—a man’s, his stride steady and quick, carrying an inexplicable air of urgency.

She tilted her head on the pillow, listening intently. This person walked straight up to her hospital room door, then, for some reason, abruptly slowed his pace.

After pausing a few seconds, he knocked twice on the door, unhurried.

“Come in.”

“Mr. Meng?!”

There was clearly some anxiety in the depths of Meng Qiguang’s eyes, but the moment the door opened, he instantly reined in all trace of that emotion. He glanced in casually from the doorway and smiled. “So it really is you? I was upstairs visiting a friend and happened to overhear people talking about the big movie star Miss Wen being treated in the ER. I thought it was just a rumor—what on earth happened?”

Wen Tingli hurriedly sat up against the headboard, smiling. “It’s nothing—had an accident on the road just now.”

Meng Qiguang’s gaze swept over the bedsheet on Wen Tingli’s bed. “Where are you hurt? Not too serious, is it?”

“Kicked my big toe against a step—a minor scrape, not worth mentioning.”

Meng Qiguang smiled and nodded. “You’re probably the first movie star to injure her own toe. Lucky there are no tabloid reporters in the hospital right now, or tomorrow’s papers would surely be full of this ridiculous story of yours.”

He glanced around the room. “How is it there’s not a single person by your side?”

“I didn’t call them over—I’ll be discharged in half an hour anyway, no need to make a huge fuss.”

Meng Qiguang glanced toward the bedside table, which didn’t even have a glass of water on it. “The people around you are far too careless.”

He turned and said something to the attendant outside the door. Wen Tingli hurriedly said behind him, “Mr. Meng, there’s no need to trouble yourself—Old Li went to make a phone call, he’ll help buy water when he’s back.”

“But he’s not here right now, is he? And as it happens, I’ve got nothing to do.”

Before long, Meng Qiguang’s attendant Xiao Gao brought over a huge pile of fresh fruit and milk, so much that it didn’t fit on either bedside table.

Wen Tingli felt truly embarrassed. After a few seconds of thought, she said seriously to Meng Qiguang, “Mr. Meng, I have something to say to you.”

But Meng Qiguang, glancing at his own wristwatch, turned to head outside. “I need to go back upstairs to see my friend. If there’s anything you need help with, just let me know.”

“Mr. Meng—” Strangely, Meng Qiguang stopped in his tracks the moment he reached the door.

He stared ahead for a moment, then suddenly reached into his jacket pocket, saying, “Huh, it was in my hand just a moment ago.”

“Did you lose something?”

“My car key’s missing.” Meng Qiguang came back into the room, his gaze sweeping back and forth across the floor. “They bumped into me when they brought the things in—it might have fallen to the ground.”

“I’ll help you look.” Wen Tingli hurried to get out of bed.

But Meng Qiguang held her shoulder down. “I’ll look myself.”

He searched around the bed a couple of times, but found nothing. Then, tilting his head as if by chance, he smiled toward Wen Tingli’s shoulder. “Looks like it fell onto your pillow.”

Wen Tingli turned to look.

“How could it have landed there?”

Meng Qiguang seemed a bit puzzled himself, leaning over to pick the key up from beside Wen Tingli’s pillow. “There we go, I’ll be off.”

At that moment, a slight commotion suddenly arose at the door. A strange premonition flashed through Wen Tingli’s heart, and she instinctively leaned out from beside Meng Qiguang to look—and saw Lu Shicheng standing at the door.

He said nothing, just looked at the two of them.

Wen Tingli said nothing either.

Meng Qiguang greeted Lu Shicheng with a smile on his face. “Mr. Lu, what a coincidence?”

He deliberately stayed put by the bedside, not moving. But what he hadn’t anticipated was that Lu Shicheng didn’t simply turn and leave—instead, his gaze moved straight past him, to Wen Tingli beside him. “Kuang Zhilin said you’d been in a car accident. Are you badly hurt?”

Meng Qiguang turned to Wen Tingli, cautioning her. “I’ll head off first—be careful not to knock your wound.”

The remark sounded remarkably intimate. Wen Tingli said nothing in response. Lu Shicheng stared at Meng Qiguang, expressionless, and stood rooted to the spot with his hands in his pockets until Meng Qiguang walked away.

After Meng Qiguang left, Wen Tingli eyed Lu Shicheng. “What are you here for? I didn’t even tell you!”

Lu Shicheng turned and left.

“Go on, then! I’m just asking you one thing—just now, when Meng Qiguang was here, why didn’t you just turn and walk away?”

Lu Shicheng’s feet came to a halt.

To leave would mean announcing his own retreat.

He couldn’t do it!

His possessiveness over her had flared up—both of them knew it perfectly well.

He had nothing to say in reply. This feeling of having a corner of his heart torn open was not a pleasant one. Unable to help himself, he turned back to look at her, and those beautiful eyes were staring straight at him.

After a moment of silence, he asked in a low voice, “Where exactly are you hurt?”