Shen Zhiwei didn’t come in. She just stood outside with her arms crossed.
Once the door was closed, she used the controller to loosen Lu Jia’s handcuffs and ankle cuffs a bit.
They were pushed up a few inches, revealing the skin they had been tightly binding.
For the entire previous day, the shackles had been fastened extremely tight.
Now that they were suddenly loosened, Lu Jia had the strange sensation that her wrists and ankles could finally breathe, yet they felt numb and detached from her body.
Her fair skin was swollen badly, with blood seeping from several spots, and the skin around her wrist bones was nearly broken all the way around.
The injuries were shockingly gruesome.
If they had remained bound any longer, Lu Jia’s hands might have been ruined completely. Song Lan only wanted to teach her a lesson; she had no intention of truly crippling her.
Otherwise, what would be the point of all the effort to kidnap her back?
This girl was there to treat Lu Jia’s wounds.
Seeing the girl wipe away the blood with a cotton swab, disinfect with iodine, and bandage simply, her movements weren’t practiced but were careful.
Even with precautions, bandaging inevitably brushed against the skin.
The cotton swab with ointment touched the wounds, sending sharp stabs of pain, but Lu Jia endured without moving.
Once the medicine was finally applied, fortunately, the shackles weren’t tightened again.
Lu Jia couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.
It was a good thing it wasn’t Shen Zhiwei applying the medicine; otherwise, she’d rather let her hands fester and swell than be touched by her.
She found it disgusting.
The girl didn’t speak a word the whole time. She quickly packed up the medical kit, and Lu Jia thanked her.
Shen Zhiwei just watched from outside.
Before leaving with the girl, she extended the chain length of the shackles a bit, allowing Lu Jia to walk normally and pick up items—but not run.
“Now you can draw?”
With that, Shen Zhiwei left on her own.
Lu Jia sat for half a minute to recover a bit, then picked up the pen and drawing board on the table.
Her freshly medicated wrists still hurt a lot.
Especially the swollen abrasions; even with the cold, hard shackles pressing against the table and gauze wrapped around, there was still a squeezing sensation.
But Lu Jia had no intention of putting down the pen.
From the moment she realized she was imprisoned, she had planned what to do.
Even knowing Sheng Shubai was surely looking for her, she didn’t want to sit idly by, waiting passively for the woman to rescue her.
If possible, she wanted to send some information out. At least she knew Song Lan had taken her out of the basement and the location of the entrance.
It was a painting she had already sketched out in her mind.
But Lu Jia drew haltingly, frequently erasing and revising parts. From the surveillance angle, it looked like the girl was just starting to brainstorm, unsure what to draw.
It was a line sketch of Linchang in spring.
There were few figures; the vast canvas was dominated by scenery.
Lu Jia knew that if she showed too obvious a personal style, Song Lan wouldn’t use her draft—it would be too easy to spot flaws.
But if there were no realistic figures at all, it would deviate too much from her usual style and seem contrived to get selected.
So she struck a balance between the two.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d be held. If… Sheng Shubai truly couldn’t find her for a while, any new work released from Song Lan’s hands, the woman would surely examine closely.
And the mark they had agreed on—no third person in the world would know.
During the New Year period, when Sheng Shubai came to M City, she had stayed with her at Linchang for several days. While Lu Jia practiced woodblock printing, afraid Sheng Shubai would get bored, she chatted idly with her.
They stayed right there in Linchang, so naturally, they talked most about Lu Jia’s childhood life there.
Lu Jia had been only four or five then.
Lu Manwan was at the peak of her career, busy with research all day, yet she still made time on weekends to take her to Linchang to identify all sorts of vegetation, flowers, leaves, and trees.
From color to shape, size to leaf patterns—each was distinct.
Many leaf types had their own meanings, and Lu Jia’s eyes would glaze over. At that age, she had just started learning the English alphabet and excitedly assigned letters to the leaves in sequence.
Sheng Shubai knew little about plants but listened attentively.
After finishing a practice woodblock, Lu Jia joked with her, “When I do my graduation project, I can carve a portrait of Linchang people and hang a string of leaves on the fence to form a sentence only you and I understand.”
Sheng Shubai raised an eyebrow. “What sentence?”
Lu Jia looked away. “You’ll know when the time comes.”
She always said what she thought, but… she’d never mentioned the word “love,” feeling it should be said only in a formal, solemn moment.
The woman leaned in with a smiling gaze, casually toying with a small wood carving Lu Jia had made. “Then I’ll wait for it.”
For that, Lu Jia had even drawn the correspondences between leaves and letters; Sheng Shubai had carefully kept that paper.
Lu Jia wasn’t sure if Song Lan would actually use her draft.
Balancing style and inspiration perfectly wasn’t easy, but she had no choice.
Even if Song Lan’s island had issues, over the years, the woman’s methods were countless, and ways to evade searches endless.
If Sheng Shubai came searching with people, they might return empty-handed.
Unless…
Lu Jia paused, remembering the girl who had treated her wounds.
During the bandaging contact, in the blind spot of the surveillance and Shen Zhiwei’s view, the girl’s fingertip had casually brushed her inner wrist, quickly writing the initials of Sheng Shubai’s name.
Could she trust her?
Lu Jia wasn’t sure, but for now, she trusted only herself.
–
“Zhiwei, didn’t I say to bring Xiao Wu over after a while?”
Shen Zhiwei had just reached the surface when Song Lan called her to the second-floor platform.
Originally, Wu Shi had already been approved a while back; after a bit more observation, she could be brought to the basement.
But because they had kidnapped Lu Jia, fearing complications, Song Lan had specifically told her to wait a few more days.
Shen Zhiwei curved her eyes imperceptibly and explained, “You Granny could only come in the evening, and we needed to treat Lu Jia’s wounds quickly, so I called her over.”
“Even if Lu Jia tried to resist after her cuffs were loosened and hurt Wu Shi, it wouldn’t matter.”
She was just a disposable pawn.
Song Lan had raised Shen Zhiwei to her current position and naturally knew whose temperament the girl had inherited. They were both cautious, never allowing themselves the slightest risk.
For something as dangerous as applying medicine, neither would do it personally.
So she nodded slightly, accepting Shen Zhiwei’s explanation.
From year-end to now, they had reassessed Wu Shi for months and could finally bring her into their circle of trust.
It hadn’t been so fast at first. But the New Year Exhibition fiasco at year-end—when her early “references” from unknown works were exposed, and a student under her had taken bribes from rivals to testify publicly.
Wu Shi had tipped off Shen Zhiwei first, narrowly averting the crisis.
Naturally, that student was thrown into the basement and went mad in less than half a month, squeezed of her last value before being fed to the fish.
Wu Shi, whom she had taught for over a year, finally earned Song Lan’s attention.
Previously, several long-time students lacking inspiration had come to the island, and Song Lan just showed them censored training videos.
No devices were allowed on the island; inspirations were noted on the spot.
They vaguely guessed something but kept silent.
Wu Shi was like those students—backgroundless but clever. After hints, she proactively reported suspicious activities of other students to Shen Zhiwei.
No more traitors were found.
Of course, if Wu Shi spotted issues too easily, Song Lan would suspect her instead.
Several investigation teams found nothing unusual, so she relaxed.
Song Lan planned to pull her onto the same boat.
–
Sheng Shubai hadn’t slept in two days.
Since meeting Shen Zhiwei the day before yesterday, and finally getting her cooperation message yesterday.
The Sheng Family openly continued searching for Lu Jia’s traces, while privately coordinating to perfect the rescue plan.
Sheng Shuyun ordered her to rest again.
Sheng Shubai pushed away the empty iced Americano cup, set an alarm for half an hour later, and compromised by pillowing her arms for a quick nap.
Seeing her like this, Sheng Shuyun fell silent, unable to persuade her to rest more.
The more they uncovered Song Lan’s elaborate setups on the island, the harder it seemed.
Plans were revised repeatedly, but Sheng Shubai had one unwavering demand: no risk to Lu Jia.
Yesterday afternoon, word suddenly came from the informant, and Sheng Shubai nearly lost her composure.
Wu Shi was Sheng Shuyun’s long-planted line near Song Lan, previously barred from the island. Called over yesterday, devices confiscated, no chance to contact them.
Upon leaving, she immediately passed the message to Sheng Shuyun, then to Sheng Shubai.
A deep underground cell with only a tiny window.
Wrists and ankles abraded by shackles; even when Wu Shi approached, Lu Jia instinctively resisted until seeing the signal.
How much that must hurt.
Sheng Shubai read the concise report, eyes stinging, fingertips clenched white.
Fortunately, per Wu Shi, aside from the wrist abrasions and Lu Jia’s fatigue, there were no signs of torture.
The blood in that earlier photo wasn’t Lu Jia’s.
Even after cooperating with Shen Zhiwei and asking about Lu Jia, she didn’t trust the girl’s words.
Now with solid info, Sheng Shubai relaxed slightly.
She didn’t even rest a full half hour.
Her phone had been on constant notifications these days, lest she miss anything.
She slept lightly; a single alert woke her instantly.
It was a screenshot from Lu Manwan.
She had messaged Lu Jia, no reply after half a day, so she asked if her daughter was immersed in the studio again.
Sheng Shubai’s fingertip hovered over the screen.
After a long moment, she typed: Yes, I just told her. Don’t worry, we’re all fine.
This couldn’t be hidden forever, but Sheng Shubai didn’t want Lu Manwan worried yet. She’d confess everything after safely returning home.
Whatever anger or blame from the Lu Family, she’d accept.
But now, only a dozen-plus hours left.
She would go to the island with them, personally bring back Lu Jia.
Nearly three days without seeing her fiancée.
Every second felt like years.
–
Song Lan’s sixth sense was always spot on.
Like tonight.
It was the third night of the preliminary exhibition—or rather, the fourth morning. Only forty-eight hours left until the Qinghui Cup winners were announced.
Most of the winning works were set, with a few controversial ones pending.
