These days, aside from visiting Lu Jia twice, Song Lan had told Shen Zhiwei not to come to the island for the last two days, nor would she. To avoid complications or Sheng Family scrutiny.
Song Lan planned to bring the award results after the ceremony and tell Lu Jia personally.
The girl’s Drunk Night was the undisputed gold medalist.
Judged unanimously by the panel, including herself.
The subject wasn’t the most standout—just a woman under night scenery. Thousands of entries had more innovative styles than Drunk Night, but Lu Jia’s carving was the most unique and eye-catching.
Song Lan was certain the Sheng Family matriarch—or at least Sheng Shubai—had poured everything into teaching Lu Jia.
Many details only showed in proofs; revisiting the blocks revealed purposeful knife work.
What a genius.
The international event revived after eight years, and her first entry won gold—at a younger age than Song Lan had been.
Song Lan felt regret, of course.
Such excellent talent, forever creating in her basement. Finding another with Lu Jia’s gifts and no background might take ages.
Regret aside, Song Lan had no intention of letting Lu Jia go.
Having personally interacted with her twice, she had already gained insight into Lu Jia’s personality. The other woman would never, and could never, join forces with them.
Originally, she just needed to wait out these two days.
But that night before bed, Song Lan found herself unable to sleep no matter what.
The unease in her heart grew stronger. She simply sat up, taking advantage of the night to head to the island once more.
Everything was normal.
After inspecting all the devices, Song Lan went alone to the basement.
At this hour, the “Muses” had mostly gone to rest. No light leaked from the narrow rooms’ windows… except for one.
Lu Jia hadn’t gone to bed yet.
The drawing board’s screen emitted a soft glow, shining through the iron window in the door and standing out starkly in the pitch-black corridor.
Earlier, when Lu Jia heard the iron door above open, she knew someone was coming and felt a brief moment of surprise.
It was time for everyone to rest, yet someone had entered.
Was it Shen Zhiwei, or… Song Lan?
Her guess was quickly confirmed.
The woman turned on the corridor lights and stood outside with her arms crossed. “You’re really in the mood to draw.”
Lu Jia’s hand paused slightly on the stylus, but she ignored her and continued drawing.
That afternoon, when Shen Zhiwei collected Ren Si’s drafts, she had casually mentioned that Song Lan was planning a mid-year exhibition in half a year and had a high demand for “Muse” inspirations lately, urging Ren Si to draw as much as possible.
The words weren’t hidden, so Lu Jia had overheard them too.
She wanted to finish the line draft as soon as possible, ideally in time for Song Lan’s exhibition.
Having been taken to the surface once by Song Lan, Lu Jia knew the basement entrance’s location. Next to the pure white sculpture in the exhibition hall’s inner first floor, removing the movable sculpture flower revealed a fingerprint-unlockable groove.
The stairs below were very deep, requiring a long walk midway through another door with facial recognition. Only further down did they reach that thick, iron-plate-like door.
She described the location in the most concise words, waiting for Sheng Shubai to see it.
“Want to show me?”
Song Lan’s tone wasn’t loud, but it stood out sharply in the silent basement.
Lu Jia snapped back to reality.
She gave Song Lan a cold glance but still stood up and handed the drawing board to her through the iron bars.
Before she could let go, a red light suddenly flashed on the controller in the woman’s pocket.
Immediately after, red lights blared from all four corners of the basement, and “beep beep” alarms rang incessantly.
“Fire?”
Amid the increasingly rapid alarms, Lu Jia heard a surprised female voice from next door.
Song Lan’s expression changed. She let the drawing board drop to the ground and hurried toward the deeper end of the corridor.
Lu Jia’s heart rate quickened a bit too.
She asked Ren Si, “Have you encountered this before?”
Ren Si shouted back, “No!”
None of the people locked in the basement seemed to have.
Except for Shu Chihan directly across from her, Lu Jia could also see one or two prison windows on either side. She hadn’t seen those people before, but without exception, they crowded to the bars, their faces showing surprise and confusion.
Lu Jia didn’t have time to think further.
Because the chain between her handcuffs tightened again, and almost simultaneously, Song Lan returned.
Seeing the woman open the cell door with a grim face, Lu Jia instinctively stepped back half a pace. But Song Lan yanked her forward roughly, pressing a carving knife to her neck.
“The Sheng Family is truly formidable, finding this place so quickly and surrounding my island?”
Song Lan enunciated each word, sliding the carving knife back and forth along Lu Jia’s neck, even using the blade’s back to slightly lift her chin. She said coldly, “I really underestimated your fiancée.”
She had meticulously set up defenses for so many years, with infrared detection devices covering the entire island.
That series of alarms signaled unauthorized intruders. The more people and the closer they got, the more intense the alarms became.
Earlier, Song Lan had rushed to the stairs at the other end, which had backup full-island surveillance displays and a secret exit known only to her.
But the monitors showed swarms of helicopters bringing over a hundred special police, mixed with plenty of mercenaries—clearly arranged by the Sheng Family.
Their search focused straight on the Zangguan, with another group guarding the clearing where Song Lan’s private helicopter was docked.
Coincidentally, the guarded perimeter included the location of another secret exit.
Song Lan pressed the carving knife to Lu Jia’s neck and walked upward step by step.
One hand held the girl’s handcuffs hostage, the other gripped the carving knife. In this way, she appeared on the stair platform, facing a row of pitch-black gun muzzles aimed squarely at her.
The communicator opposite kept ringing, with footsteps approaching from above—definitely people closing in.
Eight gun muzzles, twenty, forty…
Song Lan took a step forward, and the pressing special police raised their guns, forcing her to retreat another step upward.
Lu Jia was dragged in front of Song Lan as a shield. The stairwell wasn’t wide, and with the knife at her neck, any big movement might slit her throat.
She couldn’t walk fast and didn’t dare to.
Finally, they reached the first floor of the Zangguan.
Over a hundred guns trained on Song Lan, surrounding her heavily with no escape.
“Sheng Shubai, come out!”
Song Lan scanned her surroundings with a cold gaze. “I know you’re here.”
The mercenaries and special police ahead parted, revealing the woman’s tall figure.
“Let her go.”
Sheng Shubai’s gaze lingered on Lu Jia for an instant, longing flashing by, before she suppressed her anger and spoke.
“How did you find this place?”
Song Lan shot Sheng Shubai a cold glance and raised her voice. “Everyone, withdraw immediately, or not just Lu Jia—all the people in the basement die.”
She enunciated each word: “The explosives are enough to take you all down with them.”
With Lu Jia’s life in this madwoman’s hands, Sheng Shubai had to be cautious.
She waved her hand, and the mercenaries retreated. The special police followed suit, all the way to the door.
But she herself didn’t move, standing seven or eight meters from Song Lan in a standoff.
“How did you find this place?”
Song Lan asked again, enunciating each word.
She pulled Lu Jia behind the sculpture to block their bodies from the line of fire.
Sheng Shubai didn’t answer.
With Lu Jia’s life threatened like this, her ability to stand calmly there was already forcing down her rage, trying not to provoke Song Lan further.
Of course, she wouldn’t easily reveal Shen Zhiwei’s betrayal—that would only stimulate her more.
Now, the entire Zangguan, including the manor outside, was swarming with people.
With charges of murder and illegal detention, Country A’s police had dispatched massive forces, plus the mercenaries hired by the Sheng Family. At least a few hundred people on the island eyed Song Lan’s life covetously.
As long as this woman didn’t want to be shot on the spot and retained any sanity, she wouldn’t harm Lu Jia.
She could only pray Song Lan wasn’t truly insane.
“Lu Jia couldn’t have sent any message, so—”
Song Lan said coldly, “Wu Shi is one of yours?”
Sheng Shubai still didn’t answer, but silence was an answer.
It drew a chilling, wild laugh from Song Lan.
“Very good.”
Song Lan repeated, “Very good.”
She dragged Lu Jia back a step, her back pressing against the sculpture. Her neatly coiled hair came undone accidentally.
The woman always prided herself as upper-class, always elegant and composed.
Now, with her long hair scattered over her shoulders.
The cold white overhead light meant for the sculpture fell on her, making her look ghostly.
“The Sheng Family has impressive tactics, laying a trap long ago.”
Song Lan’s tone was calm, but madness lurked in her eyes:
“I thought after that woman Sheng Ling died, your entire Sheng Family turned into cowardly quails, only daring to probe my weaknesses these years without any real use.”
“Song Lan, you—!”
Hearing her mention Sheng Ling’s name, Sheng Shubai couldn’t hold back anymore. “How dare you mention my little aunt’s name?”
“Almost forgot, you’re the one who hates me the most, right, little Bai?”
Song Lan used her old nickname for Sheng Shubai, deliberately intimate yet unhurried. “Want me to let Lu Jia go?”
“She’s only in her twenties, at the peak of her creativity—younger than Sheng Ling was when she died. Can you bear to watch her die right before your eyes?”
“What do you want, Song Lan?”
Sheng Shubai closed her eyes briefly, her fingertips digging into her palm, forcing herself to stay calm.
The blade at Lu Jia’s neck pressed harder, as if a bit more would sever that fragile, beautiful slender throat.
Lu Jia lowered her gaze, avoiding Sheng Shubai’s eyes.
She feared the woman would be pushed to lose control or impulsively agree to some absurd demand because of her.
She had become Sheng Shubai’s weakness.
Song Lan enunciated each word: “Kneel and beg me.”
“I’ll let go of your little fiancée right away. How about it?”
How could she?
Lu Jia reacted even faster than Sheng Shubai.
Seeing the woman clearly stunned, then immediately moving to kneel without hesitation, Lu Jia rushed to stop her. “Sheng—”
But as soon as she opened her mouth, Song Lan’s hand clamped her throat.
“Shut up!”
Song Lan twisted her wrist, her right hand tightening on the carving knife. The blade pressed down, her whisper by Lu Jia’s ear like a venomous snake: “Lu Jia, so eager to die? I can oblige you.”
A trail of blood slowly trickled down her skin, the glaring crimson searing the eyes.
It was Lu Jia’s blood.
Sheng Shubai’s heart stuttered.
The always proud woman knelt without hesitation before the enemy she had hated for over a decade:
“…Please, let her go.”
