The two of them finished breakfast quietly.

Shortly after, an attendant came to collect the dishes, and Wen Tingli quickly hid in the inner room.

“Mr. Lu, Mr. Kuang has something to report to you.”

Once the attendant had left the cabin, Wen Tingli heard Lu Shicheng say in the outer room, “Those officers are still on the ship — I’ll go negotiate with them.”

Curled up on the sofa in the inner room, Wen Tingli murmured an acknowledgment, and soon after heard the sound of the door opening and closing.

With him gone, she felt a bit bored. Calculating by the sailing time, they’d reach Shanghai in another three hours.

She simply sprawled out on the large round bed, intending to catch up on sleep first.

When she woke, Lu Shicheng still hadn’t returned, so she naturally commandeered his desk to handle some work of her own — first roughly calculating her company’s recent expenses, then writing several work-related letters. She stayed busy like this until eleven o’clock, when a commotion arose outside, and she vaguely heard a loudspeaker: “The ship has docked. Ladies and gentlemen, please prepare to disembark.”

Wen Tingli hurried to drag out her suitcase and pack. Throughout this, there was constant noise outside, but her third floor remained as quiet as ever. Then she heard someone outside say, “Mr. Lu, we’ve been looking everywhere for you — the ship has docked.”

Wen Tingli pricked up her ears and heard Lu Shicheng say, “I have several crates of valuable items to have carried off the ship — it’s best if no one’s walking around on the deck for a while.”

This person apparently also knew that items belonging to the Lu family were often worth a fortune, and hastily agreed, “No problem, I’ll go down right away and let them know. Once your people have carried everything off, we’ll come up to the third floor to clean the room.”

Wen Tingli secretly let out a breath of relief. A few seconds later, Lu Shicheng opened the door and came in. She hurried forward to ask, “What about those officers?”

“They’ve already disembarked.”

“Did they find the accomplice who killed the bandit leader?”

“They caught a suspicious person in the first-floor breakfast room — someone in Ningbo had seen this person together with Liu Kai.”

That, combined with Liu Kai’s corpse, was more than enough for the officers to go back and claim credit. No wonder they’d left so readily. She glanced at him. “Well then — I should be going too. Thank you for dinner and breakfast, Mr. Lu. I ate quite well.”

With that, she walked to the coffee table and made to pick up her suitcase, only to have Lu Shicheng step forward first and lift the case himself.

Wen Tingli didn’t stop him. And so Lu Shicheng walked ahead carrying the suitcase, while Wen Tingli walked behind him empty-handed, making a face at the back of his head and looking around at the view along the shore.

Sure enough, there wasn’t a single person on the third-floor deck. They made their way down to the second floor unimpeded, then smoothly down to the first floor. Wen Tingli’s steps slowed unconsciously, and she called softly to him from behind: “Hey—”

Lu Shicheng, however, cleared his throat and looked straight ahead. Wen Tingli followed his gaze forward and immediately understood everything — Kuang Zhilin was walking toward them.

Kuang Zhilin smiled at Lu Shicheng first, then noticed Wen Tingli behind him.

“Miss Wen?!”

Wen Tingli greeted him calmly. “Mr. Kuang.”

Kuang Zhilin looked utterly astonished, looking Wen Tingli up and down. “Miss Wen, this is—”

“She came from Ningbo — we happened to run into each other on deck while disembarking,” Lu Shicheng said unhurriedly.

“That’s right.” Wen Tingli smiled broadly. “I went to Ningbo for some business matters. Mr. Lu saw I was carrying a suitcase, so he—”

As she said this, she took the opportunity to take her suitcase back from Lu Shicheng, turning her body at just the right angle to block Kuang Zhilin’s view.

“Mr. Lu is truly such a kind man.”

She tilted her head up to meet Lu Shicheng’s eyes, then daintily took the case back from him, turning to smile at Kuang Zhilin. “Mr. Kuang, I’ll take my leave now.”

But Lu Shicheng spoke up behind her: “How many cars came?”

Kuang Zhilin said, “Three.”

“Have one sent to take Miss Wen home.”

“No need! I can just call a rickshaw myself.”

Kuang Zhilin glanced at Lu Shicheng, sighing inwardly, but kept a smile on his face as he stopped Wen Tingli. “The Sixteenth Pier is always crowded — even waiting half an hour, you might not get one. And Miss Wen, you’re carrying luggage — why squeeze through the crowds? Besides, it’s really no trouble, we’re headed the same way anyway.”

Just then, Lu Shicheng raised his hand and waved forward, and a car slowly pulled up, stopping right beside Wen Tingli.

The moment the driver got out, Lu Shicheng instructed him: “187 Haige Road.”

That was her home address.

Word for word, exactly right. He remembered it so precisely.

Wen Tingli finally climbed into the car, though she immediately poked her head back out the window.

“I forgot to mention — I’ve started a film company. Here’s my new card.” She drew out two business cards, handing one to Lu Shicheng and one to Kuang Zhilin.

Lu Shicheng took the card and studied it carefully. Kuang Zhilin took one look and laughed. “Congratulations, Miss Wen — so young, and already so accomplished. When will your company’s new film premiere? I’ll be sure to come cheer you on when it does.”

“I’ll hold you to that. At the latest, the first film will premiere in a few months — I’ll send you tickets first thing.” She glanced sidelong at Lu Shicheng and added, rather flatly, “Goodbye, then.”

As the car pulled away, Wen Tingli replayed the scene in her mind. When she’d shown them her card with her new title, neither Lu Shicheng nor even Kuang Zhilin had shown the slightest hint of surprise.

This was truly unusual — after all, she’d gone from being an actress at Golden Film Company to becoming the owner of Xiufeng Film Company. Unless they’d known something beforehand, even the most composed person couldn’t have stayed this unruffled.

Clearly, Lu Shicheng knew everything. These past two months, though he’d been in Nanyang, he’d been keeping track of her movements the whole time.

She raised an eyebrow, resting her arm on the car window, leisurely brushing back the long hair blowing over her shoulder in the wind.

Arriving at the Wen residence, the Lu family’s driver thoughtfully carried Wen Tingli’s suitcase to the entryway.

Wen Tingli thanked him repeatedly. Before Zhou Sao could even bring out tea, the man bowed politely, turned, and walked down the steps to drive away.

“Whose car was that? Even the driver was more refined than most people’s.” As Zhou Sao spoke, a thought suddenly struck her, and her face lit up with surprise and delight. “Could it be Mr. Lu—”

Wen Tingli went straight upstairs without looking back.

The moment Wen Tingli walked through the company’s front doors, a crowd gathered around her.

“Boss Wen is back!” everyone called out to each other. “Come quick, everyone!”

Tan Guiwang, rushing over too fast, slipped and fell right in front of Wen Tingli. Amid the laughter, several people scrambled to help him up, after which everyone spontaneously formed a circle around Wen Tingli, every face full of warmth and goodwill.

Wen Tingli’s heart felt warm all over. Once Tan Guiwang had steadied himself, she teased him, “You’re one of the company’s top directors now, and still this clumsy — watch out, or your master will scold you when she sees.”

“Don’t worry, my master definitely won’t scold me today — she’s working in the studio right now, but the moment she hears Boss Wen is back, she’ll come running even faster than I did!”

Before he’d even finished speaking, someone shouted from behind: “Wen Tingli!”

The crowd automatically parted, and just as Tan Guiwang had predicted, Huang Yuanshan came running even faster than he had. Watching the figure rushing toward her, Wen Tingli was already overcome with emotion, and rushed forward without waiting, throwing her arms around Huang Yuanshan. Huang Yuanshan’s expression was caught somewhere between laughing and crying, and finally, eyes reddening, pulled Wen Tingli forward.

“Come on, let’s go see the treasures you personally saved.”

In the studio, two of the newest Bell & Howell cameras gleamed softly under the lights; on the other side, a dozen or so carbon arc lamps and reflectors stood arrayed around them, everything brand new, lovely, poised and ready — at a glance, they looked a bit like soldiers on a battlefield awaiting their general’s orders.

Yes, these were her soldiers. Wen Tingli gently caressed each machine — her ideals, her career, her fortress, all of it was right here.

Everyone watched Wen Tingli’s every move in silence — as fellow professionals, they understood this feeling deeply in this moment. Still, when they saw Wen Tingli lower her head and kiss the top of the camera, they couldn’t help but feel moved.

Wen Tingli’s expression was so reverent, as if she were kissing the face of a lover.

Huang Yuanshan forced down the lump in her throat and led the applause. “To celebrate Xiufeng surviving the greatest crisis since our founding, and to welcome home our clever and brave Boss Wen, I propose — tonight, we all go to Changxing Restaurant for a feast! Everyone in favor?”

The studio erupted in cheers.

At the dinner table, Wen Tingli kept putting food on Huang Yuanshan’s plate as she said, “Now that the equipment’s here, I’m even more confident about the quality of Spring Wind Blows Again and Twin Pearls. Three months is too slow — we should finish filming within two months if possible.”

They’d taken a private room specifically to talk freely. Gu Jie and Li Zhen had been chatting about industry gossip, and hearing this, chimed in, “Boss Wen truly is a product of Golden Films — that workhorse spirit of hers puts even Liu Menglin to shame.”

Huang Yuanshan: “I won’t have you lumping Wen Tingli and Liu Menglin together. Liu Menglin rushes his films to make money — Wen Tingli rushes hers because the preparation beforehand was thorough enough. She and Miss Cao spent three or four months quietly gathering material on the female factory workers for Spring Wind Blows Again alone. How can the two possibly be compared?”

Gu Jie, ever the cynic, raised his glass to his forehead. “My mistake — don’t take offense, Boss Huang, let me punish myself with a drink first.”

Everyone at the table laughed. Tan Guiwang said, “Speaking of Liu Menglin, their company’s new release Sands of Time has been doing remarkably well lately. I hear the original investor was Lu Shicheng — it was because he insisted on replacing the male lead Deng Tianxing with Zhu Xiaozhou that it turned out such a success. These days, everyone in the business says Lu has a sharp eye. Even Young Master Gao of the Gao family got jealous watching from the sidelines, and now wants to get into film too. Liu Menglin’s seizing the moment to plan a grand appreciation banquet, with Lu Shicheng as the guest of honor — with new money like Gao Tingxin sure to show up to join the fun too, how could Liu Menglin not haul in plenty of funding for his next picture?”

Li Zhen paused. “Liu Menglin certainly has no shortage of tricks — no wonder Golden Films has risen so fast. But as far as I know, Lu Shicheng recently went to escort Old Master Lu to Nanyang to recuperate — how could he possibly attend?”

“He should be coming back soon.” Though Tan Guiwang had left his old company to follow his master, he’d stayed in touch with a few old friends there, and always had the inside scoop before anyone else. “I hear Liu Menglin’s put in quite a lot of effort trying to get Lu Shicheng to attend.”

Cao Renxiu and Xiao Tian looked a bit envious. “Golden Films is already so well-established — if they land a few big sponsors at this banquet too, won’t they end up dominating everything? They’ve never gotten along with Sister Huang — what if they use their leverage to squeeze us out?”

Huang Yuanshan and Wen Tingli exchanged a knowing glance.

A moment later, Wen Tingli laughed. “I’ve actually been worrying about how to secure sponsorship for our next films. Now that we’ve gotten the new equipment back after nearly losing it, Sister Huang and I have both wanted to keep a low profile lately — but Shanghai’s film market is fiercely competitive, and if we do nothing, opportunities will surely be snatched up by others. I’ve been racking my brain these past two days over Xiufeng’s next move — and here Liu Menglin’s gone and built us a straw boat. Why shouldn’t we just borrow his arrows with it?”

Everyone at the table lit up with delighted expressions — except Li Zhen, who looked uncertain. He was the oldest at the table, and also the most thorough in his thinking.

“I don’t doubt Boss Wen’s capability, but to borrow arrows, first you need a stage to borrow them from. If I were Liu Menglin, I’d never let Boss Wen or Boss Huang through the door — how could you possibly secure sponsorship at the banquet if you can’t even get in?”

Huang Yuanshan pointed a thumb at her own chest. “Don’t forget, I’m an old hand from Golden Films myself — I’ve got a plan up my sleeve.”

Her expression was so comical that everyone burst out laughing.

Huang Yuanshan drank quite a bit that evening, and Wen Tingli, not comfortable letting her drive home alone, had Tan Guiwang drive Huang Yuanshan’s car while she helped Huang Yuanshan into her own.

Though Huang Yuanshan was a bit unsteady on her feet, her mind was still fairly clear. Once the car started moving, she leaned back in her seat with a sigh. “When my mother was alive, she often told me: ‘Don’t be hasty when trouble comes — observe first, then act.’ I never took those words to heart before, but now that I’ve started my own company and run into setback after setback, I’m slowly coming to understand what she meant.”

These were words of the heart she’d only ever share with Wen Tingli.

“While you were away this time, my heart was in knots the whole while — don’t interrupt, I promised not to ask and I won’t pry. I’m just thinking, if I want to accomplish something big, this impatience of mine has to change. The road ahead is still long — how could we face what you and I have both worked so hard for if we don’t make something of Xiufeng?”

Wen Tingli felt a pang of emotion inwardly. People really only grow through hardship — ever since starting the company, Sister Huang had grown steadier with each passing day.

“Earlier at the table, you said you’d finish both films within two months, and I didn’t say anything. It’s not that I doubt you, I just worry your health can’t take it. You’ll be starting school again before long, and no matter how much energy you have, you can’t go without rest from morning to night. The company’s operations are already running smoothly now — take it slow, there’s time.”

Wen Tingli shook her head. “Sister Huang, you heard it at the table too — Golden Films is about to make a big move, and Chen Maoqing of Huamei isn’t exactly a pushover either. Compared to them, Xiufeng is like a small boat that’s just entered the shipping lane — any wave could capsize us. Only our work can serve as our anchor to survive. There’s no time to take things slow — the sooner we finish, the more competitive we’ll be.”

Huang Yuanshan fell silent.

Wen Tingli comforted her. “You know our program is famous for being light on coursework, and besides, I’ve always had more energy than most people. I can handle it — worst case, I could apply for a leave of absence, like the two seniors from the year above us who did because of illness and are repeating their second year now. They seem no different from the rest of their classmates. Worst case, I could do the same — the diploma at graduation is the same either way.”

Of course, this was only said to put Sister Huang’s mind at ease; she had no intention whatsoever of graduating a year late unless absolutely forced to.

Huang Yuanshan, sure enough, objected strongly. “Back when I invited you to be in Southern Beauty, I was just a director — I never once let that interfere with your studies. Now that we’re bosses ourselves, we should have even more say in the matter, if anything. Give me your class schedule for the new semester, and I’ll rework the shooting schedules for both films. Worst case, the films premiere next year instead — don’t rush yourself, if the sky falls, I’ll hold it up.”

Just then, a short, sharp crack echoed from the alley ahead. Huang Yuanshan didn’t react in time, but Wen Tingli’s expression changed instantly. “Gunfire…”

Under Huang Yuanshan’s startled gaze, Wen Tingli hit the accelerator, and the car shot forward like an arrow.

Arriving at the Huang residence, the two women jumped out of the car and rushed inside, locking the door behind them in one swift motion. Huang Yuanshan’s face had lost all traces of drunken flush, filled instead with fear and confusion.

The spot where the gunfire had rung out had been only a few hundred meters from where they’d been. She wiped the sweat from her brow with a handkerchief. “Gunfire in the middle of the night — could it be another assassination?”

“Another?” Wen Tingli was startled. “There have been a lot of shootings recently?”

Huang Yuanshan hurried to the coffee table and pulled out two old newspapers to show Wen Tingli.

The front page read: [Assassination Strikes South Market Streets Again.]

Huang Yuanshan pointed at the text. “There have been three assassinations this week alone. The most recent victim was a middle school teacher — some say he was a member of an underground patriotic organization, others say he’d made enemies with the White Dragon Gang. Either way, the killer still hasn’t been caught.”

Wen Tingli stared fixedly at the photo of the murdered young teacher in the paper — truly young, not much older than herself. A feeling stirred faintly in her heart — this person was the same kind of person as Sister Li — because his eyes held that same resolve and composure, which suddenly made her think of Dean Deng and Sister Li.

Perhaps the White Dragon Gang was only a front, and the real culprits were the Japanese from the Japanese concession — no wonder the French Concession authorities had failed to solve the case for so long.

After a long moment, unable to help herself, she pressed the newspaper to her chest. They’d probably resolved themselves to sacrifice for their country, which was why their eyes held no trace of fear — yet she still felt a deep ache and sorrow.

Huang Yuanshan sighed. “These assassinations have caused quite a stir. You weren’t in Shanghai the past few days, so no wonder you didn’t know. Tell you what — stay at my place tonight, so you don’t run into anything else on the way home.”

Wen Tingli suddenly remembered an important phone call she needed to make. “No, I have to go back — I’m worried about Xiao Taozi and Zhou Sao.”

The way home was uneventful. The moment she got in the door, Wen Tingli hurried to call Huang Yuanshan to let her know she was safe. She’d just set down the receiver when the phone rang again — it was Head Nurse Liu.

Wen Tingli was full of guilt. “I got back to Shanghai around noon — things got busy after that and I forgot to call you. I’m sorry to have kept you worried all this time.”

“Our comrades already reported the details to me — I just wanted to know if everything went smoothly on the ship yesterday.”

Wen Tingli gave a rough account of her encounter with the officers, naturally leaving out the part about Lu Shicheng.

“In any case… the gun’s gone.” She sighed regretfully.

That gun had originally been a gift from Sister Li, and her marksmanship too had been taught to her personally, hand by hand, by Sister Li and Head Nurse Liu. Ever since, she’d grown used to carrying a gun for protection. Now that it was lost, she felt an aching pain, as if the last thread connecting her to Sister Li had also been severed.

On the other hand, after tonight’s incident on the street, she’d also realized she needed to get another gun for self-defense as soon as possible.

She’d meant to pay someone to get one the moment she disembarked, but with so much going on, it had slipped her mind.

Liu Xiangzhi said, “Leave it to me. The comrade in charge of supplies on our end isn’t in Shanghai right now — tonight won’t work, but I’ll have it delivered to you by tomorrow night at the latest.”

Wen Tingli was overjoyed, thanking her repeatedly. Head Nurse Liu gave a wry laugh. “Your gun was lost for our cause in the first place — of course we should be the ones to replace it. Besides, things aren’t peaceful in Shanghai these days — I wouldn’t feel at ease with you unarmed either.”

“Speaking of which, I was just about to tell you something — there was gunfire near Rue Lafayette a moment ago. I’m not sure if it was another assassination.”

“Rue Lafayette?” Liu Xiangzhi sounded genuinely startled, then paused. “I’ll have someone look into what happened. Has the White Dragon Gang caused any more trouble for your company these past two days?”

“No — I don’t think they’ll try anything rash for a while, or they’d only be embarrassing themselves.”

“Still, don’t be careless — they’re a gang of thugs after all. Call me if anything happens.”

With that, she hung up rather abruptly. Wen Tingli, full of unanswered questions, had no choice but to swallow them back down.

The next morning, Wen Tingli was sleeping soundly when a pair of soft little hands suddenly patted her awake. Opening her eyes, she found herself looking straight into a pair of round, dark eyes. Zhou Sao peeked in at the door. “The little one missed her sister so much — she didn’t get to see you last night, so she woke up before dawn this morning, insisting on coming upstairs. I just couldn’t say no.”

Wen Tingli laughed, pulling the blanket up to cover her little sister’s head, planting kisses on Xiao Taozi’s cheeks in the dim light. “Did you see the toy sister brought you? Do you like it?”

As she spoke, she reached over laughing to tickle Xiao Taozi’s round belly, when her hand unexpectedly brushed against something hard beside her little sister. She quickly threw back the blanket.

“What’s this?”

It was a small sealed suitcase. Xiao Taozi said excitedly, “Santa Claus brought it!”

“What Santa Claus.” Zhou Sao said, half laughing, half exasperated. “Before six this morning, someone rang the doorbell. I went to answer it, but there wasn’t a soul outside — just this thing left on the doormat. Whoever it was, was extremely careful — I only realized someone had been watching from behind the bushes when I heard a rustling sound back there.”

Wen Tingli had learned some self-defense techniques from Li Chengying. Hearing Zhou Sao’s account, she pressed her ear to the case first with great caution, listening carefully. Hearing nothing, she carefully opened it — but the moment she cracked the lid open, she snapped it shut again immediately.

It was a gun! Her heart raced.

Zhou Sao, standing too far away, hadn’t seen anything, but Xiao Taozi had seen it clearly. Before her little sister could voice any questions, Wen Tingli scooped her up and carried her out of bed.

“Sister will take you to the garden to play for a bit, all right?” She tucked the case into the safe by the bed and locked it.

The sisters played wildly in the back garden for a while until Xiao Taozi grew sleepy again and wanted to go inside. Wen Tingli carried her to Zhou Sao’s room, and the moment she was set down on the bed, she fell asleep. Only then did Wen Tingli slip away, back up to the second floor to retrieve the item.

Inside the box was indeed a gun — and far more delicate and compact than the previous one.

Held in her hand, it was barely the size of her palm.

She felt a rush of excitement — she’d never seen such an exquisite gun before, and hadn’t expected Head Nurse Liu to act so quickly. But then again, Head Nurse Liu had clearly said the night before that she’d deliver the gun that evening.

Perhaps their comrade had returned earlier than expected?

Despite her lingering confusion, Wen Tingli had no time to dwell on it — the moment the gun was in her hand, her sense of security returned at once.

Best of all, this gun was small enough to conceal on her person, unlike the large Mauser she’d had before, which had to be carried in a bag and always risked exposure.

The bottom of the box also held several dozen rounds of ammunition, which explained the box’s weight. Wen Tingli turned the gun over in her hands, delighted, thinking again how thoughtful Head Nurse Liu was. She hurried to pick up the phone to thank her, but no one answered after ringing for a good while.

A little worried, she called the internal medicine ward at Cixin Hospital instead. She was told Head Nurse Liu was on rounds with Dr. Thompson and couldn’t come to the phone at the moment.

Wen Tingli’s mind was set at ease. Perhaps, as she’d guessed, Head Nurse Liu’s comrade had returned early after all.

Setting down the phone, Wen Tingli held the gun up in front of the mirror, posing with it. Then, remembering something, she went back to the wardrobe and pulled out a slip to try on — sure enough, the gun could be concealed under her undergarments without any visible trace, though it would be inconvenient to draw quickly. Not a problem, though — worst case, she could send the slip to the tailor for alterations.

She was a woman of action, and immediately pulled every slip out of her wardrobe and cheerfully sent them all off to the nearby tailor shop.