Wen Tingli had just been through both shock and fear, and now her willpower was on the verge of collapse. Thinking of everything she’d endured these past couple of months, the tears simply wouldn’t stop. She cried for about two or three minutes, until someone waved a hand in front of her face, and through the thick film of tears, Wen Tingli could vaguely make out Lu Shicheng looking at her.
He patiently gestured for Wen Tingli to look at her own wound.
Wen Tingli looked down, and a jarring red met her eyes; her heart ached, and she began sobbing again.
Lu Shicheng lowered his head, took out a small pocket pen and a banknote, quickly wrote a few words, and handed it to Wen Tingli.
This time Wen Tingli understood clearly.
Written on it: Don’t worry, it’s only a superficial wound, I’ll have someone take you to the hospital right away.
Wen Tingli’s tears hung suspended in her eyes, and she stared blankly, her gaze moving from the banknote up to Lu Shicheng’s face.
Lu Shicheng’s expression remained as calm as before, but there was a faint hint of amusement in his eyes — though that amusement didn’t feel offensive in the least.
Seeing that Wen Tingli had finally stopped crying, he nodded to her and straightened up again.
Wen Tingli, however, found herself thinking blankly — who on earth would be willing to write on a banknote?
Just then, Huang Yuanshan’s voice came from outside: “What are you all crowded in here for — where’s Mr. Lu?”
It turned out Huang Yuanshan had already gone to fetch the police, and the moment she burst in, she stumbled: “Wen Tingli?! Why are you here too? Are you alright?”
Along with Huang Yuanshan, several men had also rushed in, immediately gathering anxiously around Lu Shicheng to check him over.
Lu Shicheng raised his hand to indicate he was fine, then fixed his gaze on a middle-aged man in a dark gray suit standing at the front of the group. The middle-aged man hurried to say to him in a low voice: “We caught him.”
A flicker of mockery crossed Lu Shicheng’s eyes. He was about to leave, but turned back and pointed toward Wen Tingli in the room.
“Gray Suit” had already noticed Wen Tingli on the floor and, unable to guess this young girl’s relationship to Lu Shicheng, seeing that she appeared injured, hurriedly nodded: “Alright, we’ll get this young lady to the hospital right away.”
Lu Shicheng pointed to his own arm.
“Gray Suit” thought for a few seconds, then said tentatively: “Should we have a doctor take an X-ray to check this young lady’s bones?” (note)
Lu Shicheng nodded, then walked past the crowd toward the exit. Unexpectedly, a foreign police officer rushed in from outside: “Trying to leave? A murder just occurred here, everyone needs to cooperate with the police station and give a statement.”
Lu Shicheng didn’t even glance at the man, walking straight toward the stairs.
The foreign officer froze for a moment, then furiously chased after him: “You’ve got some nerve, ignoring the French Concession police right in front of me — stop right there!”
Just then, another, older police officer also rushed in, and seeing this, hurriedly reprimanded his colleague.
He then turned to “Gray Suit,” putting on a full smile: “My new colleague here doesn’t know any better, my apologies, Mr. Kuang.”
It turned out “Gray Suit” was surnamed Kuang. Mr. Kuang’s expression eased slightly: “Let’s disperse, shall we — this is just a small family matter of the Lu family, no need for you police gentlemen to have gotten such a fright over nothing.”
“Please, Mr. Kuang, don’t say that — punishing evil and rooting out wrongdoers is our duty.”
The older officer, still smiling, tucked his gun back into its holster, then turned and shot the foreign officer a look. “Nothing to see here, let’s go.”
The foreigner, apparently feeling he’d lost face, suddenly pointed at Wen Tingli on the floor: “This young lady surely knows what just happened — let’s bring her back for questioning.”
Mr. Kuang spoke up again: “This young lady is injured — we need to get her to the hospital for treatment as soon as possible.”
His tone remained gentle throughout, but carried an unmistakable air that brooked no refusal. Having said this, he instructed his subordinate: “Zhou Wei, help this young lady to the car.”
The older officer dragged the foreigner away: “What are you making such a fuss for, let’s go, this is none of our business anymore.”
Several people were about to fetch a sofa chair to carry Wen Tingli. Wen Tingli, having fully come to her senses by now, waved them off, saying it wasn’t necessary. Seeing Wen Tingli standing steadily on her own, Mr. Kuang said gently: “May I ask this young lady’s surname?”
“She’s surnamed Wen,” Huang Yuanshan said, as if just waking from a dream. “She’s one of tonight’s contestants in the stage play competition.”
She added: “The champion.”
“I’m Kuang Zhilin. Miss Wen may call me Old Kuang. As you just saw, young Master Lu specifically instructed us before leaving to send Miss Wen to the hospital for a thorough checkup. The car is ready — Miss Wen may head down now.”
“Could you drop me at Cixin Hospital? I could get checked over there. My father and younger sister are both at Cixin right now, and I’m worried they’ll be anxious about me.”
“But Cixin Hospital doesn’t have an X-ray machine. Young Master Lu specifically instructed us to send Miss Wen to Huiqun Hospital, precisely because he was concerned about your bones being injured.”
Wen Tingli touched her left arm worriedly, immediately feeling a burning pain. Kuang Zhilin, reading her expression, comforted her: “Let’s get you treated first. As for your father and younger sister, we’ll send someone to reassure them.”
Huang Yuanshan also urged her: “A gunshot wound isn’t a small matter, better to be safe.”
Getting into the car downstairs, Wen Tingli suddenly poked her head out to say to Huang Yuanshan: “Sister Huang, the teachers and students from Wushi are still waiting for me at the front entrance — please let them know for me.”
At Huiqun Hospital, the doctor quickly treated Wen Tingli’s wound and took an X-ray of her that same night, confirming no bone damage. A group of surgical doctors personally escorted her back to her room.
Once Wen Tingli knew she had nothing seriously wrong with her, she relaxed entirely, sitting in her wheelchair looking left and right, and seeing a whole group of people busy attending to her, tilted her head up and said to everyone: “This is so embarrassing, causing you all this trouble so late at night — earlier I thought I might end up disabled, otherwise I definitely wouldn’t have come to the hospital. Oh, and — can I just be discharged now?”
Her tongue was sweet, and her smile even sweeter — within a few sentences, she’d already made herself familiar with everyone. Two doctors laughed, shaking their heads: “You’re too impatient — you suffered a gunpowder injury, which, while not serious, still carries infection risk. You’ll need to be observed for at least a night or two before we let you leave.”
As they spoke, they arrived at her room, where Mr. Kuang seemed to have already been waiting a while. He stepped forward to exchange a few pleasantries with the head of surgery, then said to Wen Tingli: “As for your father, I’ve already gone to inform him. Miss Wen need only focus on her recovery here — everything else can wait until your injury improves.”
Behind him, a room full of fruit and tonics had been arranged — several peeled sections of Siamese pomelo, translucent as rubies, sitting quietly in a fruit dish.
There were also crates of milk and Vichy brand mineral water (note), neatly stacked within Wen Tingli’s easy reach.
Wen Tingli was startled by this display: “It’s just a minor injury, there’s no need for you to go to such trouble — I should be able to be discharged first thing tomorrow morning.”
Mr. Kuang, however, tactfully withdrew into the corridor: “I won’t disturb Miss Wen’s rest any further. There’s a caretaker outside; feel free to call for anything you need during the night.”
Wen Tingli wanted to say more, but the nurse arrived with an IV bag. Once the nurse left, the room held only Wen Tingli. She sat on the bed, staring blankly at the room full of fruit and tonics.
Was this how the Lu family always did things?
Everything before her eyes was just like that silent Lu Shicheng himself — thoughtful, refined, quiet, yet flawless.
Looking around, Wen Tingli couldn’t help but reach toward the bedside table. She didn’t touch any of the fruit, only picking up a bottle of mineral water to drink a few sips.
Suddenly, she noticed a banknote pressed beneath one of the water bottles.
She pulled it out to look — it was indeed the very one Lu Shicheng had written on earlier, likely accidentally left behind in the car, then brought in by Mr. Kuang under the assumption it was her belonging.
Wen Tingli held the banknote up to the light. Even written in such chaos, the strokes were clean and forceful.
Only someone like Lu Shicheng would think to use a banknote as a notepad in an emergency. She sighed and lay back into the covers.
Earlier, while her wound was being bandaged in the emergency room, she had summoned all her courage to sneak a glance at the injury — a patch of skin on her left arm had been completely seared away, the raw red wound striking to look at. If merely being grazed by a bullet could do this much damage, she couldn’t imagine what actually being hit would be like.
If that bullet had truly been meant for Lu Shicheng, then whoever fired it clearly wanted him dead.
What was strange was that, judging by Mr. Kuang’s attitude, he clearly did not want the French Concession police involved in this matter — which was baffling. Who wouldn’t want to bring the person who tried to assassinate them to justice?
Come to think of it — was this meticulous, considerate treatment, aside from being because she’d been injured due to her connection to Lu Shicheng, also perhaps a subtle hint that she shouldn’t go around talking about tonight’s events?
Thinking this, Wen Tingli’s relaxed nerves tightened up again. After tossing thoughts around in her mind for a while, she finally managed to fall asleep.
She woke to the smell of something warm and fragrant wafting through the air. Wen Tingli assumed she was dreaming, and turned over to keep sleeping, only to cry out in pain from touching her wound.
“Miss Wen.” Someone pushed the door open and came in. “Is your wound hurting? I’ll go fetch the doctor right away.”
It was a woman who looked like a caretaker, followed by a nurse.
Wen Tingli sat up and only then noticed several plates of breakfast arranged on the table at the foot of the bed.
This was far too extravagant.
Seeing Wen Tingli staring blankly at the breakfast, the caretaker said with a smile: “Mr. Kuang had this sent over first thing this morning.”
While the nurse checked Wen Tingli’s wound, the caretaker opened each of the food boxes on the tray one by one to show her: “Please see if these suit your taste, Miss Wen. If there’s anything you don’t like, I’ll go buy according to your preferences.”
Wen Tingli felt a little at a loss: “There’s no need, this is already wonderful. Have you had breakfast yet? Why don’t we eat together? Oh, right, I need to make a phone call.”
The caretaker said: “Mr. Kuang already sent someone to fetch Miss Wen’s family this morning — they should be on their way by now.”
Wen Tingli felt truly overwhelmed. A little later, the head of surgery came to examine her carefully, saying a few more days of antibiotics would be enough to clear things up.
After the medical staff left, the sound of Xiao Taozi’s childish voice came from the corridor, along with Zhou Sao’s hushing: “Shh! Shh! This is a hospital, don’t make noise.”
Wen Tingli hurried to get out of bed, but the caretaker went out first to greet them. Soon, Zhou Sao, looking uneasy, led Xiao Taozi in, while Mr. Kuang from the night before followed behind, smiling broadly.
“Did Miss Wen sleep well last night?”
Wen Tingli was about to answer when Xiao Taozi broke free of Zhou Sao’s hand, ran over, and threw her arms around Wen Tingli’s leg, bursting into loud sobs. Zhou Sao, eyes reddening, said: “This child thought coming to the hospital meant a serious illness, terrified her sister would end up like Father — she cried the whole way here.”
Wen Tingli pressed her forehead against Xiao Taozi’s, saying gently: “Sister just took a little tumble, just like when Xiao Taozi falls down sometimes — only scraped a tiny, tiny bit of skin.”
She pinched her thumb and index finger into a thin sliver to show Xiao Taozi, then got out of bed and walked a circle with ease: “See, is your sister not fine?”
Only then did Xiao Taozi break into tears of relief, wrapping both arms tightly around her sister’s neck, refusing to come down no matter how Zhou Sao tried to pull her off.
“How on earth did you end up in the hospital?” Zhou Sao asked worriedly.
Wen Tingli said lightly: “I won the competition last night, I was so happy I accidentally fell down some stairs. Director Huang happened to be nearby, and worried I might have hurt my bones, sent me to the hospital. This Mr. Kuang here is also a friend of Manager Huang’s.”
Mr. Kuang stood by, smiling, and upon hearing this, his expression showed some surprise, but more so admiration, as if he hadn’t expected such a young girl to be so shrewd.
He smiled slightly: “Take your time catching up, I’ll come visit again later.” And he took his leave.
Wen Tingli asked Zhou Sao: “How’s Father?”
“Dean Deng just made her rounds this morning, said everything’s still fine. The master kept asking about you — I told him young miss came back last night with a teacher from school, and this morning went to a classmate’s to borrow notes. The master didn’t say anything more, just said to wake him the moment you got back.”
By now, Xiao Taozi had grown bored and was curiously examining the exotic fruits in the room, and Zhou Sao likewise showed a look of astonishment: “Who sent all these? There’s far too much.”
Wen Tingli coughed: “I’m the champion of the first Shanghai Youth Stage Play Competition now — who knows how many reporters want to interview me. This is all from the organizers and some newspapers.”
Xiao Taozi picked up a round, plump tangerine to play with in her arms, and Wen Tingli coaxed her sister to put it back: “Sister will buy you one when we get home.”
Afraid Zhou Sao might grow suspicious, she quickly added: “You two haven’t had breakfast yet, have you? Let’s just eat together.”
While eating, Zhou Sao kept giving puzzled looks now and then, because the breakfast was simply too extravagant. Afraid she’d ask too many questions, Wen Tingli, as soon as they finished eating, urged Zhou Sao to take Xiao Taozi home, using the excuse that no one was there to look after their father.
No sooner had they left than Director Zheng arrived with Zhao Qingluo, Yan Zhenzhen, and the others, Huang Yuanshan following behind.
Several of them gathered worriedly around the bed, asking question after question: “Weren’t you just going back to get your book bag last night? How did you end up in the hospital?”
Wen Tingli pointed to her arm and explained with a smile.
Huang Yuanshan said nothing the whole time. Wen Tingli understood clearly — it seemed the Lu family had already hinted to Huang Yuanshan how to explain this to others.
Zhao Qingluo shoved a stack of newspapers into Wen Tingli’s hands: “Look, every newspaper in Shanghai covered last night’s stage play competition this morning. You’re famous now.”
Wen Tingli happily opened them up — photos of herself, Le Zhiwen, and Xu Wei’an were placed prominently, and every headline, without exception, read:
【First Shanghai Youth Stage Play Competition Upset: Newcomer Miss Wen Tingli Defeats Le Zhiwen and Xu Wei’an.】
Wen Tingli read on, smiling contentedly: “Director Zheng, will the school be able to help me apply for the Yuying Scholarship now?”
Director Zheng laughed despite herself: “You’re still thinking about the scholarship at a time like this? This is an honor you’ve won for the school — you’ll get it, no question.”
Yan Zhenzhen said: “Everyone in the Drama Club says we should really celebrate. The Cantonese food at Dayalou near the school is quite good — why don’t we book a table in advance, and we’ll come pick you up the day you’re discharged.”
After chatting and laughing for a while, Director Zheng prepared to leave with the students, but Huang Yuanshan said she still had some post-competition matters to discuss with Wen Tingli, so she stayed behind.
Once the room held only the two of them, Huang Yuanshan had her assistant wait outside the door, closed it, and set a contract down on the bed, saying with great enthusiasm: “I’ve brought the contract for Southern Beauty. Look it over carefully and sign as soon as possible.”
“Why the rush, my injury hasn’t even healed yet.”
Huang Yuanshan clapped her hands: “We agreed on this before — I’d arrange a grand stage play competition for you, and you’d agree to star in this film. You won the championship last night, defeating everyone — surely you won’t go back on your word now. This film is set to start shooting around early September, and the production team needs to tailor your costumes according to your measurements ahead of time.”
“Sister Huang.” Wen Tingli suddenly said quietly. “What exactly happened last night? Why won’t the Lu family let the French Concession police pursue the culprit?”
Huang Yuanshan’s expression tightened, and she pressed a finger to her lips, signaling for Wen Tingli to be quiet: “It’s best if what happened last night rots in your stomach — never mention it to anyone else.”
“I just want to know who that assailant was last night.”
Huang Yuanshan listened carefully with her head tilted for a moment, then said in an extremely low voice: “Didn’t you hear Mr. Kuang last night? That’s a Lu family matter. I’d guess it’s most likely that Third Master Lu — that is, Lu Shicheng’s third uncle — who sent someone to assassinate Lu Shicheng.”
Third Master Lu — the one who resembled his Nanyang concubine mother the most, and had always been Old Master Lu’s most favored youngest son? “Isn’t he disabled in both legs?”
“His legs are disabled, but his mind certainly isn’t. The year before last, after that incident, Lu Shicheng had him sent off to Peiping, and now Third Master Lu has no say in any major or minor matters of the Lu family. He was always a restless one to begin with — how could he possibly accept that? Last night was likely him stirring up trouble again, and Lu Shicheng set a trap in response, only he never expected you’d accidentally stumble right into it.”
Wen Tingli thought to herself — no wonder, when she’d burst in last night, Lu Shicheng had been sitting on the sofa with his gun quietly aimed at the door, as if he’d been waiting for a while. And after the incident, Kuang Zhilin and his people had arrived so quickly, too.
Seeing her lost in thought, Huang Yuanshan pointed at the near-mountain of nutritional supplements piled by the bed, winking: “All of this — Lu Shicheng had it sent?”