Fang Da smiled and said, “In that case, once Miss Wen has taken care of what she needs to, please come by Shuguang Tower as soon as possible to discuss the details. With Miss Wen’s current fame, having you do this advertisement is sure to boost sales.”

Such clever, respectful words melted away the unease and heaviness Wen Tingli had carried with her on the way over, replaced now by a sense of solid ground and purpose.

“Alright.” She accepted Fang Da’s business card with great solemnity, saying somewhat urgently, “The moment I’ve finished with my father’s funeral, I’ll get in touch with you, Mr. Fang.”

After burying her father, Wen Tingli shut herself indoors for over ten days, sunk in low spirits. Only then did she gather her strength enough to host a dinner at her new apartment for Huang Yuanshan and the others.

Through this whole ordeal, she was lucky to have had several good friends by her side the entire time — otherwise, even if it hadn’t killed her, it would have taken a heavy toll.

She’d ordered prepared dishes from Donghua Restaurant, and bought fruit and iced soda nearby, spending the entire afternoon setting up a warm and bountiful dinner table.

Her friends, wanting to help Wen Tingli come out of her grief over her father’s death, deliberately kept the conversation to light topics. Gao Xiaowen, holding a glass of juice, wandered around the room looking at everything.

“There’s even a telephone and a phonograph! Wow, and the balcony’s not small either. Three rooms this nice, and only twenty-five silver dollars a month?”

“It’s a haunted house — probably had to drop the price after not being able to rent it out for so long.” Huang Yuanshan stood at the window looking out. “I barely saw any shops on the drive in just now. Hey, Wen Tingli, what’s that row of buildings across the way? It looks a bit eerie.”

Just then, Wen Tingli came in carrying a hot water thermos, and looked out in the direction of the voices.

“It seems to be an abandoned factory. I hear strange noises come from it at night sometimes — that’s supposedly why it’s called a ‘haunted house.’ No one around here wants to rent nearby.”

Zhou Sao chimed in, “I took Xiao Taozi out for a walk at noon, and saw there’s a new lock on the factory’s gate — looks like it has an owner, though who knows why it’s been sitting empty so long.”

Huang Yuanshan looked a little disappointed. “What a shame — a row of buildings that size would be perfect for filming.”

Gao Xiaowen laughed. “You’d even take a haunted house? I’ve never met a director as stingy as you.”

“Can’t help it, this line of work is tough enough as it is. If you were the director, you might be even stingier than me. Besides, I’ve never believed in ghosts anyway — if I did, these villains would’ve gotten their comeuppance long ago.”

“Come listen to this, everyone.” On the sofa, Yan Zhenzhen and Zhao Qingluo had their heads together over a newspaper, reading it out loud word by word:

[“This morning, Miss Dong of Xinxin Department Store made good on her earlier promise, and, with the Shanghai Women’s Association as witness, donated the entire proceeds of the ‘Flower of Shanghai’ competition to the Red Cross and welfare institutions, and additionally donated 100,000 francs from her own private savings to a women’s and children’s welfare organization.”]

[“This act of generosity brings a satisfying close to the eventful ‘Flower of Shanghai’ competition.”]

Huang Yuanshan and Gao Xiaowen clapped their approval.

“By the way, Sister Huang, now that Wen Tingli’s really finished with everything, isn’t your film about to start shooting soon?”

“Starting officially next Tuesday.” Huang Yuanshan broke into a confident smile.

“I’ve said it before, when you shoot, make sure my Aoshuang face powder gets a few extra close-ups.”

“No problem! Hey, Wen Tingli, I’m starving to death here, when are we eating?”

Wen Tingli called back from inside, “Almost, almost — there’s one more honored guest on the way.”

Just then, the doorbell rang outside. Yan Zhenzhen ran to open it, and it turned out to be Dong Qinfang.

Dong Qinfang had brought a bottle of champagne. “Sorry I’m late.”

Everyone cheered. “There’s our honored guest! Come on in!”

Dinner concluded in a warm and pleasant atmosphere.

After the meal, Yan Zhenzhen, Gao Xiaowen, and Zhao Qingluo crowded onto the balcony, chatting in the night breeze about where various classmates from Wushi High School had ended up after graduation.

Dong Qinfang and Huang Yuanshan sat in the living room chatting about recent goings-on in Shanghai, occasionally bursting into hearty laughter.

In this quiet, happy atmosphere, Wen Tingli finally felt a long-overdue sense of relaxation. She pulled out a record and set it on the phonograph, letting soft, languid music flow into every corner of the room, then went to make tea with Xiao Taozi. Passing through the living room, Dong Qinfang caught hold of her.

“What’s really going on between you and Lu Shicheng?”

Wen Tingli was startled. Huang Yuanshan draped an arm over the back of the sofa and said lazily, “Don’t play dumb — reporters have been out there scolding Qiuhua Company on your behalf every day lately. If Lu Shicheng didn’t have deep feelings for you, why would he be willing to invite this kind of trouble on himself?”

Wen Tingli sat down and sighed dejectedly. “I wish I did have deep feelings between me and Mr. Lu, but the truth is, he and I don’t even really qualify as friends. Mr. Lu is the sort — cold on the outside, warm inside. His helping me might just be because I’m a graduate of Wushi, and Principal Zou has always cared about me a great deal — or maybe he simply couldn’t stand what the Bailong Gang was doing.”

“Come off it!” Huang Yuanshan waved a hand. “There are plenty of Wushi graduates — how come I don’t see him helping every single one of them?”

Dong Qinfang cut in on Huang Yuanshan’s words. “Didn’t you go see Lu Shicheng last time? Did you see him? What did he say to you?”

“He asked me to advertise one of his company’s products for free for a year, but I never even got to see his face.”

“Beautiful!” Gao Xiaowen poked her head in from the balcony. “If it were my brother doing someone a favor like that, he’d have made the girl his girlfriend for a while — no doubt about it.”

Dong Qinfang asked, curious, “Don’t you all understand Lu Shicheng’s character?”

Facing a room full of curious looks, Dong Qinfang took her time recounting the circumstances of the first time she’d met Lu Shicheng at the Lu residence.

Back then, the Lu family was still run by Second Master Lu and Third Master Lu, and Lu Shicheng had just returned from Nanyang to study in Shanghai. When introducing Lu Shicheng to the Dong family, Third Master Lu had only said: this nephew of mine is basically mute, and quite introverted — everyone please be understanding.

That had sounded rather odd. Dong Qinfang had, at first, assumed Lu Shicheng must be socially awkward, or perhaps even a bit slow. It was only after actually interacting with him that she realized — among all the young people there that night, Lu Shicheng was by far the most composed and outstanding. That particular bearing was hard to put into words; she’d only felt this young man was like a pearl sunk at the bottom of a deep sea: still, warm, and shimmering with light. Once it surfaced, nothing could dim its brilliance.

Even then, Dong Qinfang had vaguely sensed that this family would sooner or later be run by Lu Shicheng.

In fact, both Second Master Lu and Third Master Lu had always deliberately tried to suppress him.

“But you all know what happened after — he nearly sent both his uncles off to meet the King of Hell together.” Dong Qinfang shrugged. “So even if none of you believe Wen Tingli, I still find myself half-believing her. This man is far more low-key and down-to-earth than other rich family scions, and he never plays by conventional rules. If he helped this time, he helped — he probably doesn’t want anything from Wen Tingli in particular. If he wanted something, he’d have gotten it long ago.”

Gao Xiaowen grew more and more curious, coming in to sit beside Dong Qinfang. “There’s just one thing that puzzles me. Why hasn’t Lu Shicheng found himself a girlfriend in all this time back in Shanghai? Last time I went to Beiping for my second aunt’s birthday, several young ladies from relatives’ families, hearing I studied at Wushi, swarmed me to ask about Lu Shicheng — that’s when I found out he’s quite famous in Beiping too. Guess what they call him behind his back — ‘The Lone Pine on the Snow Mountain.’ Meaning Lu Shicheng is like a pine tree on an icy mountain — however beautiful and appealing, impossible to get close to.”

The whole room burst out laughing. “The Lone Pine on the Snow Mountain? However did your friends come up with that?”

Dong Qinfang said, laughing, “Think about the Lu family’s current situation and you’ll understand. I’ve heard from people in the know that over the past year or two, Third Master Lu has schemed against Lu Shicheng in all sorts of ways to seize power back. Under those circumstances, how could Lu Shicheng not be wary of anyone who approaches him? If I were him, I wouldn’t easily fall in love with anyone either.”

Huang Yuanshan studied Wen Tingli’s expression with great interest. “You heard her — whatever else you say about him, Lu Shicheng is absolutely not the type to stir up trouble for no reason. This time you ran into real trouble, and he didn’t hesitate for a second to step in. I refuse to believe he doesn’t have some feelings for you.”

Wen Tingli found herself recalling that night Lu Shicheng had escorted her back to Cixin Hospital.

She had done more than just suspect it in her heart — she’d gone and done something she still regretted to this day.

“No!” she said firmly. “I can’t be sure of anything else, but I’m sure Mr. Lu has no such feelings toward me.”

“You sound so certain — did you actually ask him?” Zhao Qingluo asked curiously.

Wen Tingli hastily changed the subject. “Listen, is the water boiling in the kitchen? Let me go check.”

Huang Yuanshan laughed so hard she nearly doubled over. “Look how fast she ran off — knowing her, she probably really did ask him. Wen Tingli, even if Lu Shicheng turned you down to your face, that doesn’t prove anything. Whether someone has feelings for you or not, in the end, comes down to what they’re willing to do for you. Lu Shicheng’s never even been in love before — for all you know, he doesn’t even know what he feels about you himself. Hey, are you listening? Taking initiative has never been a man’s exclusive privilege. Don’t let yourself get boxed in by old-fashioned notions — when it’s time to be bold, be bold.”

“Sister Huang, I never knew you’d studied love so thoroughly.”

“Of course. Love is one of the eternal themes in filmmaking — a director who lacks deep insight into love and human nature could never make a good film. Back when I studied at the University of Pennsylvania, I actually took a course in the psychology of love.”

That night, this group of friends played and laughed at Wen Tingli’s place until past ten before finally leaving.

Lying in bed that night, Wen Tingli, unusually for her, found herself unable to sleep.

She kept turning over Dong Qinfang’s and Huang Yuanshan’s words in her mind.

“Under those circumstances, how could Lu Shicheng not be wary of anyone who approaches him? If I were him, I wouldn’t easily fall in love with anyone either.”

The more she thought about it, the more restless she grew, until she suddenly sat bolt upright in bed. The lights in the room had long since been turned off, and a swath of silvery moonlight stretched in through the window, quietly illuminating the floor by the bed.

Wen Tingli stared at that beam of light, feeling as if a feather were gently scratching at her chest.

Huang Yuanshan’s voice kept echoing in her ears.

“He told you he had no feelings for you and you just believed it? You have to look at what he’s actually done for you.”

“For all you know, he doesn’t even know what he feels about you himself.”

A bold idea rose in her mind — should she…

The moonlight seemed to softly urge her on — try it, try it, trying costs you nothing. Haven’t you always been someone who dares to think and dares to act? Come on, be bold once more. Wen Tingli, don’t make me look down on you.

At this thought, she scrambled hurriedly out of bed to put on her shoes.

But right at that moment, another voice piped up in her ear — Wen Tingli, are you sure you want to indulge in wishful thinking again this time? Isn’t the reason he won’t see you precisely because he’s afraid you’ll misunderstand?

At this thought, Wen Tingli dejectedly drew her feet back onto the bed, and pulled the blanket over her head for good measure.

But even with the blanket over her head, her mind remained noisy, and she tossed and turned in bed for who knows how long before finally falling asleep.

Lu residence.

Fang Da pointed at a newspaper and said with a smile, “You just got back, young master, you probably haven’t seen the recent papers yet. Miss Wen really is quite something — I was worried earlier that the Bailong Gang would throw off her mood and composure, but she ended up performing even better than last time on finals night. Not bad — she’s someone destined for big things. I hear Xinxin’s revenue over these past ten-odd days has already surpassed their entire take for last month. Oh, right—”

Fang Da turned and retrieved a brocade box from the outer room. “This is the gift Miss Wen asked me to pass along to Young Master Cheng that night. I heard it was just a piece of embroidery, so I took the liberty of accepting it on your behalf — would you like to open it and take a look?”

Lu Shicheng reached out and took the box, opening the lid himself.

Inside the brocade box was a small round embroidered screen, depicting a lifelike cat, its fur white as snow, its eyes clear as glass, one paw batting at a small, colorful embroidered ball, its expression playful and confident.

Lu Shicheng studied the cat on the embroidered screen intently, and the cat seemed to be playfully staring right back at him.

It really did look just like Wen Tingli.

He found himself somewhat suspicious that she’d had this custom-made at an embroidery shop using a photograph of herself.

Fang Da, reading his expression, praised the embroidered screen without end. “Miss Wen really put her heart into this — this piece is neither too plain nor too showy, it’d brighten up any corner of a room.”

He added with a smile, “Oh, and the contract for the Xili pear juice advertisement is ready. If you’re satisfied with it too, sir, I’ll arrange with Miss Wen to sign it at Shuguang Tower this evening.”

He handed the contract over for Lu Shicheng to review.

Lu Shicheng took it and slowly leafed through it.

[No problems on Wen Tingli’s end?]

“Miss Wen even said she’d be willing to do three full years of free advertising for us.”

Lu Shicheng said nothing, only leaned back in his chair, holding the contract up high in front of his face, as if intently studying every word on it.

Fang Da couldn’t help but smile. “Should I call Miss Wen right away to set up a time?”

Seeing no sign of objection from Lu Shicheng, Fang Da went ahead and picked up the phone.

“Miss Wen, this is Fang Da.”

After a few exchanges, Fang Da glanced back at Lu Shicheng, then said into the phone with a smile, “No, that line won’t work on Mr. Lu at all — he never agrees to see guests just because of that kind of talk.”

Lu Shicheng, curious, set down the contract. Seeing this, Fang Da quickly changed his tone. “Let me ask Mr. Lu and get back to you.”

After hanging up, he said, “Miss Wen says she’s booked a table at Taotaoju for dinner tonight. After signing the contract, she’d like to treat Mr. Lu to a simple meal — she says there’s something important she needs to tell you in person.”

Tonight? Lu Shicheng paused. Not tonight — these past few days, Lu Kejian had been showing signs of movement, and he was waiting for them to slip up on their own; he couldn’t act rashly yet.

Seeing Lu Shicheng slow to respond, Fang Da said with a smile, “Miss Wen says this matter is extremely important, and that she absolutely must tell Mr. Lu in person. She says she won’t take up much of Mr. Lu’s time — and if Mr. Lu can’t see her, she’ll simply wait at Taotaoju until he has time to come see her.”

Lu Shicheng’s thoughts were somewhat unsettled, and he stood up to pace back and forth in front of the desk.

Fang Da’s gaze followed him. “Do remember, Taotaoju isn’t far from Shuguang Tower — a meal won’t take much time. What if Miss Wen really does have something urgent?”

Lu Shicheng shot a glance back at Fang Da.

Fang Da laughed awkwardly and swallowed back what he was about to say.

Lu Shicheng thought for a moment, then pointed toward the door — you still have a pile of things to deal with, why don’t you head back first.

Fang Da, hearing this, knew at once that Lu Shicheng wouldn’t be going, and could only say, “Yes, sir.”

After Fang Da left, Lu Shicheng continued flipping through the pile of official correspondence on his desk, but the characters seemed to swim before his eyes. He stared at them for a long while without taking in a single word.

In the end, he simply tossed his pen aside and rang for Steward Chen, asking him to call Wen Tingli back on his behalf.

Steward Chen looked blank. “Miss Wen’s telephone number?”

Lu Shicheng pointed at the telephone on the desk — Fang Da had just called her, so the telephone company could provide the number.

The phone had barely rung twice when Wen Tingli picked up on the other end — it seemed she’d been waiting for this call all along.

“Miss Wen, this is Steward Chen from the Lu residence. Mr. Lu asked me to tell you: today he has matters to discuss with some friends, and probably won’t be free until eight o’clock. If you don’t mind waiting until after eight—”

Steward Chen covered the receiver, chuckling. “Miss Wen sounds very pleased — she says she can wait.”

Lu Shicheng’s expression remained composed, but there was something clamoring in his ears — thump, thump — unmistakably the sound of his own heartbeat.

He turned to look out the window, forcing himself to wait until his heartbeat calmed, before turning back to continue instructing Steward Chen.

[In that case, don’t bother preparing dinner for me tonight — I’ll eat out. Also, I’ll need the car at seven-thirty this evening — tell Old Huang to be waiting punctually outside Lixin Bank.]

Steward Chen lowered his eyes and answered, “Yes, sir.”

That day, they finished signing the contract by five in the evening.

Fang Da personally escorted Wen Tingli out of Shuguang Tower, and Wen Tingli happily shook his hand goodbye.

She then hailed a car from a car rental agency and headed to Taotaoju.

The private room she’d booked was tucked away, and quite pricey.

On an ordinary day, she’d never have been able to afford a place like this, but compared to a while back, she was now considerably better off. Xinxin’s prize money had already come through, and that morning she’d also received the final payment from Fulishi’s advertisement. For the next several months, she needn’t worry about supporting her family, and even her first semester’s tuition at university was now secured.

What’s more, this time, the person she was inviting was Lu Shicheng — to her, this dinner meant a great deal.

Huang Yuanshan’s words kept surfacing in her mind. Last night, she’d thought things through clearly — after weathering this whole storm, she had more courage than before, and a more proactive attitude toward life. So, there were things she simply had to try once more, or she’d regret it.

With this thought in mind, Wen Tingli walked into Taotaoju in an almost buoyant mood, went upstairs to sit by the window, and asked the waiter to bring up the menu.

Fortunately, having treated Lu Shicheng to a meal once before, and having had dinner at the Lu residence another time, Wen Tingli had a fairly good sense of Lu Shicheng’s tastes.

After studying the menu for a full ten-odd minutes, she carefully settled on five dishes and a soup, all delicious, well-regarded specialties that suited Lu Shicheng’s palate. In the end, she instructed the restaurant to bring out the pastries and small dishes first, and to hold the main courses until after eight.

Once the waiter left, Wen Tingli glanced up at the clock — it was a little past six, meaning she’d get to see tonight’s guest in an hour or two.

At this thought, she pressed a hand to her chest and let out a few nervous breaths, then suddenly lowered her head and laughed softly to herself.

She couldn’t quite make sense of her own mood right now — she felt nervous, yet full of anticipation, along with a rare touch of shyness, and, just a little, worry.

As for what exactly she was worried about, she decided not to dwell on it for now.

After sitting a while, she quietly took out the compact Gao Xiaowen had given her from her bag — before leaving, she’d specially put on some powder, and painted her lips a cherry red.

The moment she opened the mirror, a pair of smiling eyes suddenly appeared before her — how could her eyes be so bright, her dark pupils like crushed gold, or like a spring pond, each glance seeming to ripple with light.

This was the first time Wen Tingli had ever seen herself look this way — utterly unfamiliar, yet unusually lovely. She glanced again and again, up close, from a distance, the more she looked the stranger it seemed. In the end, she put the compact away, sat up straight, and leaned on the windowsill, resting her chin on her hand to watch the scenery outside.

She watched as the sky shifted from orange-red to deep blue, and then even that blue faded away, until the sky finally turned into one great swath of black velvet, thick with mist, the starlight sparse. The lights along the street lit up one by one, and the waiter came in to switch on the Western-style wall lamps in the room.

Wen Tingli sat beneath the lamp and continued to wait.

Guests came and went along the corridor outside; only her corner remained unusually quiet.

She patiently dipped her finger in her teacup and traced idle patterns on the table, mulling over, from time to time, what her first words to Lu Shicheng should be when she saw him.

Suddenly, the waiter knocked outside the door.

“Miss, may we bring out the dishes now?”

“Wait a little longer, my guest hasn’t arrived yet.”

“But if we wait any longer, the kitchen will be closing.”

Wen Tingli looked up, startled to realize it was already nine o’clock.

Once the dishes were brought to the table, Wen Tingli asked the restaurant to cover each dish with a plate. It was indeed getting late, but her anticipation remained undimmed — Lu Shicheng had said himself he’d be very late; perhaps he was already on his way.

Outside, the other guests seemed to be leaving in droves, the corridor filled with drunken chatter and laughter; before long, it fell completely silent outside. Occasionally someone passed by the door, but it was only the restaurant staff.

Finally, someone came in and said apologetically, “Miss, we’re closing up.”

Wen Tingli’s head drooped.

There could be no more embarrassing scene than this — happily setting out a whole table of dishes, only for the guest never to show.

It was ten o’clock. However busy Lu Shicheng might be, he could surely have made it by now. Even if something urgent had come up at the last minute preventing him from coming, a man of Lu Shicheng’s character would surely have had someone notify her.

So, this meant he had, quite plainly, stood her up.

All her anticipation and warmth turned, in an instant, into embarrassment and confusion.

She knew Lu Shicheng wasn’t the type to go back on his word, but there were always exceptions. Perhaps he’d guessed what tonight’s dinner meant, and, not wanting to embarrass her, had simply chosen to avoid seeing her altogether.

In any case, however she looked at it, there was no point waiting any longer — it was starting to look pitiful. A few more waiters had gathered outside the door, all watching her curiously. Wen Tingli stood up dejectedly. “Would you mind packing up the dishes for me?”

Back home, Zhou Sao was startled. “Your face looks awful! Are you sick?”

But the first thing Wen Tingli said upon entering was, “Did anyone from Mr. Lu’s side call tonight?”

“No, nobody.” Zhou Sao looked puzzled.

Wen Tingli’s disappointment reached its peak. Without a word, she handed the box of food to Zhou Sao, and listlessly returned to her own room, flopping backward onto the bed.

Zhou Sao grew a little worried. “What exactly is wrong? Should I fetch a doctor?”

Wen Tingli raised a hand to cover her forehead. “I’ve been running around all day, just a little worn out. It’s nothing. Is Xiao Taozi asleep?”

Zhou Sao relaxed a little. “Xiao Taozi knew her sister would be back late, and couldn’t wait up, so she went to sleep already. Oh, and by the way — a woman named Ping called for you this evening. She asked you to call her back the moment you got home.”

Wen Tingli flipped over and got up, dialing the number. Li Chengying’s voice came through, somewhat urgent. “I’ll come find you in half an hour — I’m not too familiar with your new neighborhood, where should we meet?”

Wen Tingli said quickly, “There’s an abandoned factory near my place. When you arrive, just follow Fuyang Lane all the way to the end, turn right, and walk another li — you’ll see it. There’s no one around there during the day, let alone at night. I’ll wait for you by the warehouse’s back door.”

Hanging up the phone, Wen Tingli quickly changed into clothes suited for moving around, stuffed a flashlight into her bag, and told Zhou Sao she was going out to buy some medicine, then slipped quietly out.

Once there, Wen Tingli first carefully scanned the area, made sure no one was around, then sat down by the warehouse’s back door.

Waiting alone in the dark for a while, that irksome feeling crept up on her again.

Actually, more than embarrassment, what she felt now was confusion — this really wasn’t like something Lu Shicheng would do. Why hadn’t he said a single word? He’d promised he would come, hadn’t he?

To make her wait a whole evening for nothing, and he couldn’t even be bothered to have someone tell her he was sorry? Even if he himself couldn’t spare the time, he could have had someone close to him notify her.

Forget it, forget it. Wen Tingli waved a hand at her shadow on the ground with a show of nonchalance. Whatever the case, Lu Shicheng’s attitude had already made itself quite clear — last time, his help had come from simple kindness, it didn’t mean he had any real feelings for her. Tonight’s events only further proved that, from beginning to end, it had all just been her own wishful thinking.

Having reasoned this out, Wen Tingli felt a bit lighter — at least, going forward, she wouldn’t need to keep second-guessing herself. Next week, Huang Yuanshan’s film was set to start shooting — rather than torment herself over this, she’d be better off pouring all her energy into the film.

She was just about to close her eyes and rest a moment when a sharp screech of tires sounded not far away. Startled, she looked toward the sound, and saw headlights flare up on the small road ahead, the light approaching fast, heading straight for this old factory.

Wen Tingli ducked alertly into the bushes — Sister Li rarely drove to meet her, so this was most likely just a passing vehicle. But right after, she noticed it wasn’t just one car — it was an entire convoy.

The line of cars pulled up one after another in front of the factory, then stopped in sequence.

In the dead of night, there came a creak as someone pushed open the factory’s rusted old iron gate.

Someone said in a low voice, “Go check around.”

Wen Tingli’s whole body jolted.

Qiu Lingyun! So these were Bailong Gang men.

She instinctively reached for the gun in her bosom, while urgently looking around — running out now would make it far too easy to be spotted; better to hold still for now. Her position, by the back door, had bushes in front, plus an abandoned water tank — even in broad daylight it would be hard to spot her hiding place, let alone at night.

Before long, a scattering of footsteps sounded nearby — several people had come searching, the fallen leaves rustling under their feet.

Wen Tingli hardly dared breathe. Fortunately, this group probably figured no one would be wandering around here in the middle of the night, so their search wasn’t very thorough — two of them walked back and forth about twenty meters in front of her without so much as glancing her way.

After a slapdash search, the group went back to report, satisfied.

“Checked it out. Not even a bird in sight.”

“You lot go guard the intersection. Watch out for anyone wandering in by mistake.”

Just then, someone lit up several German lamps in the middle of the empty lot, and a few cars slowly drove into the factory building.

The moment the lead car stopped, a group of people crowded around it.

The car door opened, and several people carefully lifted out a wheelchair.

Someone sat in the wheelchair — from Wen Tingli’s angle, she could just make out his profile. It was a man, wearing a full set of expensive Western-style clothes, his leather shoes clearly high quality at a glance.

But this man radiated an indescribable sense of gloom, as if his entire being had fused completely with the night itself.

Everyone present treated him with the utmost deference.

“Third Master, this is where Gang Leader Cao interrogates traitors at night. It’s been used less in recent years, but it’s still far safer than anywhere else. Let’s hide him here for the night, and move him somewhere more secure first thing tomorrow morning.”

The man surveyed his surroundings impassively, then, after a moment, clenched his fist and gave a light cough. “Throw him down, then.”

This man’s voice was younger than Wen Tingli had expected.

A group of men strode quickly to the other car, and together lifted a person out, dumping him onto the ground — the fall was heavy, yet the person made not the slightest sound.

The lot was too dark, and she was too far to make out the person’s face clearly, but she felt an inexplicable unease — perhaps because the watch on that man’s wrist looked oddly familiar, or perhaps because something about his build reminded her of someone.

“Heh heh, since ancient times, heroes have always fallen to beauty — no wonder, he brought this on himself!” Qiu Lingyun’s tone carried a barely-contained smugness. “Go check if he’s woken up yet.”

The lackeys turned their bright flashlight beams onto the man on the ground.

At this sight, Wen Tingli’s soul very nearly left her body.

It was Lu Shicheng.

Lu Shicheng lay curled motionless on the ground, his body already soaked half through with blood.