Wen Tingli stared at that line in astonishment. She was so shocked that this time she stayed quiet for a full ten seconds.
But she quickly nodded happily: “Let me think it over properly — how about I treat you at Guangyaju? Their pickled dishes are all house-made, and their marinated white herring in fermented rice is exceptionally fresh. Their eel noodles and braised pork intestine with field greens are also better than anywhere else.”
Lu Shicheng gestured for her to lead the way. Wen Tingli grew even more delighted, raising a hand to point across the street. “That restaurant is behind Tang Family Lane — it’s hard to find. We should cross the road first.”
She was about to lead the way, but Lu Shicheng stopped her.
[Please help me call Mr. Kuang.] He handed the notebook back to her.
“Oh, right, right.” Wen Tingli turned back toward the earlier phone booth, and after a few steps, suddenly turned back with a smile at Lu Shicheng. “You’re worried Mr. Kuang will be anxious about you, aren’t you? You’re really kind to the people around you.”
Lu Shicheng gazed off at the plane trees along the road, having grown quite used to Wen Tingli’s habit of talking just to talk.
The call went through.
“Mr. Kuang, it’s Wen Tingli. Lu Shicheng asked me to tell you… how did I end up with him? This — this isn’t something I can explain quickly… it’s near Gan Family Lane, yes, yes, please don’t worry about finding Mr. Lu…”
After finishing the call with Kuang Zhilin, Wen Tingli made another call to Zhou Sao.
Then the two of them walked out of Gan Family Lane side by side.
“After dinner, let me treat you to some dessert too?” she said. “There’s a shop nearby that makes excellent pigeon-egg dumplings.”
Just as she was chattering away, Lu Shicheng suddenly grabbed her arm — she’d been so busy attending to him that she hadn’t noticed a large stone right beneath her feet; had he not pulled her back in time, she would surely have twisted her ankle by now.
Lu Shicheng, expression solemn, tucked his hand back into his trouser pocket.
Wen Tingli laughed, a little embarrassed. “You’re really so attentive — the ground here is all uneven… I won’t bother escorting you across the street then, Mr. Lu, you can manage on your own?”
Lu Shicheng was silent for a moment. He was mute, not blind.
“I just don’t want to seem inhospitable,” she said, hurrying across the street, then turning to stand on the steps, smiling as she waited for him.
Once Lu Shicheng crossed over as well, Wen Tingli handed her little notebook back to him with both hands.
“During dinner, whatever Mr. Lu finds not to his liking, please write it all down in here. I guarantee I’ll make sure this meal satisfies you.”
Lu Shicheng took the notebook. Wen Tingli pressed her lips together, unable to stop smiling.
Just then, a car drove past on the road, carrying Meng Qiguang and Xiao Gao.
Xiao Gao, recalling last night’s events, was thoroughly puzzled: “Mr. Meng, we still hold two of Boss Cao’s shiploads of goods hostage — we could have helped Miss Wen out of that mess right then and there last night. Why did you put on that helpless act in front of Miss Baoxin? Were you waiting for something?”
“Waiting?” Meng Qiguang idly flipped through the newspaper. “Relationships between people are nothing more than an exchange of interests — I give what I have to the other party, in exchange for getting what I want from them. If I have nothing they want, even if I helped them a hundred times over on my own initiative, all I’d get in return is a single ‘thank you.'”
Xiao Gao looked half-convinced.
Meng Qiguang gave a faint laugh. “Don’t you understand yet? Not even the greatest kindness can buy equal favor in return — that’s a flaw everyone shares. You’ve been with me long enough — have you ever once seen this Meng Qiguang make a losing deal? Last night, since she wouldn’t ask me for help even to save her life, why should I press my warm face against her cold shoulder? Putting on a show in front of Baoxin was enough. Don’t worry, that Qiu fellow is wary of my connection with her — he wouldn’t really dare do anything to Miss Wen.”
Xiao Gao was about to say something else, when he happened to look up and catch sight of Wen Tingli walking down the street with a young man.
Xiao Gao’s jaw dropped — it was Lu Shicheng!
Since they were too far away, he couldn’t make out what the two of them were saying, only that Miss Wen seemed to be chatting away happily with Lu Shicheng.
“Mr. Meng?!” He was too astonished to say anything more.
He’d expected Meng Qiguang to be displeased, but instead Meng Qiguang watched with keen interest, staring for a long while before chuckling softly: “Very good. Clear goals, great ambition — even more skilled at seizing opportunities than I am.”
Just as he said this, the car happened to pass right behind the two of them. Meng Qiguang’s eyes gleamed as he watched Wen Tingli’s profile, keeping his gaze fixed on her even as the two of them walked toward the lane, turning his head to keep watching from behind until their figures disappeared, only then withdrawing his gaze with a composed expression.
The Guangyaju restaurant Wen Tingli had mentioned wasn’t far from Cixin Hospital, run by a middle-aged couple.
The proprietress treated Wen Tingli very warmly, though she kept sneaking glances at Lu Shicheng while speaking. This young man was not only tall and handsome, but dressed far too finely for such a place — anyone would give a second look to see such a person walk casually into a roadside eatery.
After entering, Lu Shicheng simply looked quietly around, and noticing the proprietress’s gaze, showed no sign of displeasure at all, instead nodding politely at her.
Wen Tingli had already witnessed Lu Shicheng’s cultivated manners before, but the proprietress flushed deep red with embarrassment, hurriedly putting on an awkward smile and showing the two of them into a private room.
The two of them sat down facing each other.
“Do you like this kind of food?” Wen Tingli asked, holding out the menu for his approval.
Lu Shicheng nodded.
Wen Tingli laughed. “Look at me, asking the guest what he wants when I’m the one treating.”
There followed a rather long silence.
Lu Shicheng couldn’t help but glance up, only to see Wen Tingli frowning in concentration over the menu, her serious expression more studious than any scholar’s. Before long, she looked up and called out the door: “Waiter.”
She ordered seven dishes in one breath, plus a soup of red amaranth with fermented rice to cut the richness. But halfway through ordering, Lu Shicheng suddenly waved to catch her attention. Wen Tingli’s face reddened at once. “You couldn’t possibly want—”
[No, that’s not it.]
He wrote on the notebook.
[You’ve ordered too much food.]
Realizing it wasn’t what she’d thought, Wen Tingli let out a breath of relief, but immediately shook her head firmly. “I ordered extra because I wasn’t sure of your taste, so I got a few more of the signature dishes. Mr. Lu can try a bit of everything, and eat more of whatever you like — don’t worry about finishing it all, I can just take the leftovers home.”
After finishing the order, Wen Tingli wiped down the table with her handkerchief in front of Lu Shicheng, then flipped the handkerchief over to show him.
“See — this place may be small, but it’s remarkably clean. I’ve been back to see their kitchen myself — just as sanitary as anywhere else.”
Lu Shicheng reached for the bowls and chopsticks on the table, but Wen Tingli got there first, arranging everything neatly in front of him.
At the same time, she asked the proprietress to bring an extra set of chopsticks and bowl for later use.
Right after, she personally poured him a cup of tea.
“It’s just that the tea isn’t quite the best. Mr. Lu, please make do with a sip for now — I’ll have them buy some bottles of iced orange soda for you.”
[Thank you.] He’d just been feeling thirsty.
“No need to thank me!” Wen Tingli said happily. “It’s so hot out — you just can’t eat properly without something cold to drink.”
She asked the waiter to buy iced soda for them, then crossed her arms and rested them on the table, facing Lu Shicheng. After only a few seconds of quiet, she started eagerly finding things to talk about again.
“I’ve lived around here since I was small, I’ve eaten at every restaurant in the area, and none of them taste better than this one. If Mr. Lu is still not satisfied—”
She patted her own chest. “Just tell me directly what kind of restaurant you prefer, and I’ll treat you again next time we get the chance. Thanks to Mr. Lu for what just happened — no amount of thanks would be enough.”
Lu Shicheng picked up the notebook as if idly and wrote a line on it.
[If I hadn’t arrived in time just now, did Miss Wen have any other option to turn to for help?]
Wen Tingli’s scalp prickled — he really knew how to strike at the heart of things. Of course she couldn’t tell him that Li Chengying’s people had arrived right on his heels.
“Then I would have turned to a friend for help. I have a few classmates whose families aren’t afraid of the Bailong Gang at all, but I really didn’t want to trouble them, so I used Mr. Kuang’s calling card to scare that Qiu fellow off instead. But if I’d really been pushed to the wall, I wouldn’t have cared about that anymore — I’d have called my classmates.”
Lu Shicheng watched Wen Tingli quietly.
Wen Tingli met his gaze without flinching.
Her long lashes fluttered as she took a sip from her cup, then, perhaps growing bored, began studying the teacup in her hand as if admiring a famous painting.
Lu Shicheng, meanwhile, studied Wen Tingli as if she herself were a famous painting — her expression and eyes betrayed not the slightest guilt, yet since entering this room, this was the first time she’d gone a full half-minute without speaking.
Unfortunately, the waiter’s footsteps broke this brief silence. “The soda’s here.”
Wen Tingli’s expression instantly livened up again.
“Feel this, is it cold enough?” She pushed a bottle of soda toward him. “Quench your thirst first, the food should be ready soon.”
Lu Shicheng, pretending not to notice she was deliberately changing the subject, finished the whole bottle, still feeling a bit parched. Wen Tingli took the initiative to push the second bottle toward him.
Then she started twisting open her own bottle, but this time couldn’t get it open no matter how long she tried.
Her hand suddenly felt empty — Lu Shicheng had taken the soda bottle from her and twisted it open for her.
“Thank you,” Wen Tingli said with utter sincerity. “Mr. Lu, you’re so thoughtful and considerate.”
Lu Shicheng turned his face away and drank his soda.
The dishes finally arrived. The first dish was braised cuttlefish liver — Lu Shicheng had expected it to be greasy, but upon tasting it, found it surprisingly light and tender.
“How is it?” Wen Tingli watched him without blinking.
Lu Shicheng nodded slightly and picked up the spare chopsticks to take another piece.
Wen Tingli beamed, two dimples appearing.
The second dish was tofu skin with dried bamboo shoots. As Wen Tingli ladled soup for Lu Shicheng, she didn’t say a single word, evidently completely confident in this particular dish.
The soup was indeed delicious, the winter melon and tomatoes both cooked to tender juiciness; even the tofu skin, unusually, had no beany aftertaste at all.
Before he knew it, Lu Shicheng had drunk half a bowl of the soup.
For a host, nothing brings more joy than seeing a guest enjoy what she’s ordered. Wen Tingli, feeling utterly satisfied, said nothing further and focused solely on eating.
The private room finally fell quiet, and remained so for quite a while. After the meal, Wen Tingli happily had the waiter bring towels for the two of them to wash up, while the proprietress cheerfully brought over the bill: “That’ll be eight and a half dollars. Miss Wen’s a regular customer, so we’ll waive that extra half dollar.”
The price wasn’t cheap — after all, an ordinary family’s banquet only cost about ten silver dollars — but that was only because she’d ordered far too much and the ingredients were exceptionally fresh. Wen Tingli had prepared for this in advance, and quickly said “all right,” pulling a palm-sized blue cloth pouch from her book bag and pouring out all the money to count it — but there were only six silver dollars.
Wen Tingli, unable to believe it, dug through her book bag again, but still couldn’t find another cent.
The atmosphere in the private room suddenly grew awkward.
“Wait a moment.” Wen Tingli struggled to appear composed. “It must have fallen somewhere. Let me look again.”
Lu Shicheng, being considerate of others’ dignity, simply sat there watching her search at first, but seeing her grow increasingly anxious, he quite naturally pulled his wallet from his jacket pocket, preparing to help pay the bill.
Wen Tingli hastily stopped him. “We agreed I would treat.”
She then said to the proprietress, “Please, whatever you do, don’t let this gentleman pay the bill. Wait just a moment, I’ll be right back.”
She got up and left the private room. Lu Shicheng, curious, couldn’t help but glance toward the door as well, and saw Wen Tingli hurrying off down the corridor.
She returned in just about a minute, this time with a large banknote in hand, which she handed straight to the proprietress, saying generously, “Please make change for this.”
This turned up a whole handful of silver coins, but at last the bill was properly settled, and the proprietress carefully packed up the leftovers and handed them to Wen Tingli.
As the two of them walked out, Lu Shicheng specifically glanced toward that small corridor from before — the end of the passage turned out to be a washroom. A washroom, of course, wouldn’t have any silver notes hidden inside it — which left only one possibility…
The instant their gazes met, the air fell into an odd silence.
Wen Tingli was feeling awkward about what had just happened. She distinctly remembered having ten silver dollars in her purse, but for some reason four were missing — she’d only remembered while settling the bill that the evening before last, on her way to Garden Terrace, she’d called a taxi from the Xiangsheng car company, and this morning before leaving she’d left some meal money for Zhou Sao and Xiao Taozi. She’d kept careful track of these expenses in her head, but with all the chaos Qiu Dapeng had caused, she’d simply forgotten.
Fortunately, she’d just sewn several large bills into her undergarments a few days ago, so she’d been able to slip into the washroom to get some emergency cash from her clothes.
Afraid Lu Shicheng might ask further questions, she was relieved when, thoughtfully, he asked nothing at all — this put her more at ease, and once her mind relaxed, she perked up again.
“I did say I’d treat you to dessert.” she said cheerfully. “That shop is right next door — their pigeon-egg dumplings are especially good for cooling off in the heat. We just had hot soup, so it’s the perfect time for it.”
Though she said this, she wasn’t sure whether Lu Shicheng would agree, but to her surprise, he looked in the direction she’d pointed. Wen Tingli, pleasantly surprised, hurried to lead the way. The two of them walked to the front of the dessert shop; just as Wen Tingli was about to go in, Lu Shicheng stopped and looked down the street instead.
It turned out several rickshaw cars had appeared on the street without her noticing.
A man got out of the first car — it was Kuang Zhilin.
Kuang Zhilin walked straight across the road toward them.
“Mr. Kuang, hello.” Wen Tingli greeted him first.
Kuang Zhilin looked from Wen Tingli to Lu Shicheng and back, doubt filling his eyes, though his manner remained as courteous as always. “Miss Wen, are you two—”
Wen Tingli hurriedly said, “I was just about to treat Mr. Lu to some pigeon-egg dumplings.”
She added with an embarrassed laugh, “I should have invited Mr. Kuang along too when I called earlier — silly of me not to think of it. Since you’re here now, let me treat you properly to this shop’s dessert as well.”
“I appreciate Miss Wen’s kind thought,” Kuang Zhilin said with a smile, “but unfortunately the timing isn’t good right now — the manager at Lixin Bank is still waiting to meet with Mr. Lu and myself.”
Wen Tingli nodded regretfully and turned to say goodbye to Lu Shicheng, only to find he showed no sign of wanting to leave.
He seemed to be genuinely waiting for her to take him in for the pigeon-egg dumplings.
Wen Tingli was both surprised and delighted. “It’s so hot out — please, Mr. Lu and Mr. Kuang, wait here at the entrance. I’ll go in alone to buy them.”
Before long she came back out carrying several food boxes, and handed them all to Kuang Zhilin: “The clerk put quite a bit of ice in the boxes, but don’t let them sit too long — better to eat them right away.”
After that she said nothing further. Lu Shicheng waited a while, but seeing no suspicious figures around her, seemed to suddenly lose interest, as if all at once. He took the food box, nodded his thanks to her, turned, and got into the car.
Wen Tingli stood by the car to see him off. “See you again.”
Back at Kuang Zhilin’s residence, Lu Shicheng looked thoughtfully at the food box on the coffee table.
Kuang Zhilin asked Lu Shicheng, “What did Miss Wen talk to you about over dinner?”
It was precisely because she’d said nothing of substance that Lu Shicheng found it so baffling.
She hadn’t used the dinner as an opportunity to pry any information out of him, nor had she tried to reclaim that calling card. Even just now, delivering the dessert, she hadn’t tried to engineer any excuse for their next meeting.
Still, this didn’t dispel the suspicion in his heart — after all, this Miss Wen had been showing up in front of him far too often lately. In fact, ever since that night she’d used his name to auction off those dresses, he’d already grown suspicious of her.
The last time, at the Golden Theater, when he’d set up a trap for Lu Kejian and she’d walked right into the crossfire — afterward, he’d also thought it too much of a coincidence.
This evening, the moment he’d seen that group of suspicious old women, his suspicion of her had reached its peak — people that skilled couldn’t possibly be commanded by just anyone. He’d decided on the spot to test her.
During dinner, he’d deliberately given her many opportunities to make a move or speak up, but Wen Tingli had never taken things any further.
He couldn’t quite see through her.
Not receiving any response from Lu Shicheng, Kuang Zhilin already knew Wen Tingli hadn’t shown the slightest flaw over dinner. He hurried to fetch a file from his study. “I’ve looked into Miss Wen’s background thoroughly these past few days. Please have a look.”
Lu Shicheng took the file. Kuang Zhilin’s investigations were always meticulous down to the smallest detail, and this was no exception — starting from the year Wen Tingli was born, up through how she’d recently enrolled at Wushi, including some experiences Wen Tingli herself had long forgotten, all of it had been written into the dossier before him.
“We’ve gone through the Beiping connection several times as well, but neither Miss Wen nor her father, Wen Desheng, have ever had any contact with anyone there. Even if there really is something suspicious about Miss Wen, she doesn’t seem to have been sent by that gentleman in Beiping.”
Lu Shicheng was silent for a moment. He knew his third uncle’s methods well enough — if Lu Kejian wanted to make use of someone, he’d certainly employ some means of winning them over first. And yet, Wen Tingli’s father was still in the hospital, and that Qiu Dapeng whom she regarded as an enemy was, if anything, thriving more than ever. Looking at these two points, she didn’t seem like someone Lu Kejian had sent to get close to him either.
“There’s been no suspicious income in the Wen family’s accounts recently either. Though there is one thing — Miss Wen’s mother,” Kuang Zhilin said delicately, “once worked as a courtesan at the Red Rouge Flower House in Nanjing. But this was over twenty years ago now. Since Wen Desheng and his wife came to Shanghai, the couple worked diligently at small trades. From what we’ve learned, Mrs. Qiao privately looked into the Wen family’s background as well, and it was precisely because she discovered this history of Miss Wen’s mother that she firmly refused to let Miss Wen be with her own son.”
Lu Shicheng had roughly heard about the Qiao family’s doings as well.
His expression showed a hint of disdain.
Still, whatever the Qiao family chose to do had nothing to do with him. All he knew was that Kuang Zhilin had never once erred when it came to investigating people — it seemed, then, that Wen Tingli really was just a young girl with the simplest of backgrounds.
Flipping to the page about Wen Tingli’s drama competition, he found a photograph tucked inside of her winning the championship. Lu Shicheng picked up the photo and studied the person in it. After several encounters, he knew Wen Tingli had a very sharp mind and quick reflexes — if she truly had been sent by someone, the fact that nothing had come of it this time didn’t mean she wouldn’t slip up next time.
Still, he ought to test her properly once more.
Kuang Zhilin said with a smile, “There’s another possibility as well — Miss Wen might simply be trying to get close to Young Master on her own initiative. There was quite a story behind how she first came to know Young Master Qiao… don’t look at me like that, sir, I don’t mean to slander Miss Wen’s character, but it is a fact that the Wen family has fallen on hard times, and with the Qiu family, father and son, watching her like hawks besides — in such a difficult situation, it’s only natural for a young girl to want to find someone to lean on. And it happens that Young Master is about her age—”
Lu Shicheng thought of Wen Tingli’s dog-eared vocabulary notebook, and, lost in thought, flipped through her file once more, quickly pulling out two Wushi Middle School report cards from the back.
When Wen Tingli had first enrolled at Wushi, she’d ranked thirty-sixth in her class; her most recent results had already risen to ninth. In just two months — such rapid progress was impossible without a great deal of hard work.
Would a woman solely intent on relying on a man really apply herself to her studies with such dedication?
And so, he found himself unconvinced by Kuang Zhilin’s speculation.
After a few seconds’ thought, he pointed at Wen Tingli’s file, wanting to arrange one more “opportunity” for her.
Kuang Zhilin nodded. If it turned out Wen Tingli really did have some ulterior motive, that would naturally be easy enough to handle — but, “And if it turns out Miss Wen really has nothing to hide?”
Lu Shicheng considered this — then she’d simply be a rather talkative young lady.
Was talking too much really a fault?
Clearly not. If she came looking for him again, he need only keep his distance from this chatty young lady.
Kuang Zhilin understood. “Very well, I’ll be sure to let word of the ‘opportunity’ slip to Miss Wen.”
Lu Shicheng nodded, tucking his pen back into his pocket, and briskly ended the conversation there.
Back home, Wen Tingli found a picture book for Xiao Taozi to look at while sitting on the bed, while she herself sat under the lamp doing the accounts.
The moment she’d gotten back to Cixin Hospital, she’d called Li Chengying to thank her, but as for Lu Shicheng, she hadn’t been able to provide any useful leads.
After all, tonight she hadn’t once deliberately tried to pry any information out of Lu Shicheng.
Superintendent Deng’s situation was, of course, important, but the fact that Lu Shicheng had rushed to save her was equally real — since she’d invited him to dinner, she ought to treat him with sincerity.