Shaking, Liu Ran picked up the drawing. In it, she saw only her own wretchedness, not Ming Siyu.
She tore it into pieces and discarded them on the floor.
Ming Siyu pointed at the door of the office. “Get out and go home right now. Use the rope I bought you back then to tie yourself up—tie yourself right to the door of my bedroom. I’ll have the driver take you back first.”
Liu Ran stepped over the fragments of the drawing and left without looking back.
Ming Siyu sent a message to the driver, instructing her to make sure she picked up Liu Ran and sent her home.
Her heart beat a little too fast, and Ming Siyu felt dizzy. She went to the lounge to grab a canister of oxygen and inhaled it before slowly recovering.
When she came back out, she looked at the mess all over the floor. Ming Siyu had no energy to clean it up herself, nor even the energy to call someone to do it.
Ming Siyu leaned against the desk and took off her glasses. She was a bit unclear herself—whether she was afraid of Liu Ran leaving, or angry that Liu Ran, as a pet, had rebelled against her owner’s authority.
It was clearly Liu Ran who had broken the rules first. She had said no calls to others without her permission, and Liu Ran had agreed, but Liu Ran had still somehow contacted Chen Liaoqing and even kept the phone number.
There must have been contact between Liu Ran and Chen Liaoqing; otherwise, Chen Liaoqing couldn’t have known this phone number.
Unless Chen Liaoqing had dialed the wrong number herself. But Liu Ran’s browsing history clearly showed Huai Ci Sanatorium, and Ming Siyu didn’t believe it was all such a coincidence.
Unless Liu Ran could give her a more reasonable explanation.
Ming Siyu stayed in the office for a while longer before heading home herself. She casually drove one of her cars, but because she was distracted, she didn’t react when the light turned green at an intersection. The blue sedan behind her honked wildly.
She floored the accelerator barefoot and sped off. After passing the intersection, the blue sedan overtook her from the left, the driver rolling down the window to hurl abuse at her.
Ming Siyu was irritated. She reached over to grab the high heel on the passenger seat, rolled down her window, and hurled it at the blue sedan. It flew straight through the open window of the other car without missing a beat.
The person in that car had been about to keep cursing, but when they saw the Y-house logo on the heel of the shoe, they instantly fell silent.
Ming Siyu figured the person was probably wondering how much they could sell that second-hand luxury limited-edition high heel for. People were like that—hit them with money, and they’d shut up obediently.
She didn’t understand why Liu Ran wasn’t like that. Liu Ran was short on money, after all.
Liu Ran hadn’t tied herself up with the rope as Ming Siyu had instructed. Ming Siyu twisted Liu Ran’s ear and dragged her all the way into the little black room, then coldly ordered Qi Zhen, “No food for her.”
Even if Liu Ran died, she had to die by Ming Siyu’s hand.
The next day, Ming Siyu went to work by herself. The driver who picked her up was the same one who had coaxed Liu Ran back on that rainy day by playing pitiful. The driver glanced at Ming Siyu’s expression, unaware of what had happened between her and Liu Ran. Lately, she’d been picking up two people at a time, so she cautiously asked, “President Ming, is Miss Liu not coming today?”
Ming Siyu looked out the window. “She’s dead. Drive.”
The driver was so scared she didn’t dare say another word.
Ming Siyu thought of what Liu Ran had said the day before—that no one wanted to be with her—and asked the driver, “Do you still want to work for me?”
The driver thought she’d made some mistake and was about to get fired; tears nearly welled up. “Yes, President Ming. I have no intention of leaving the Ming Group at all.”
Ming Siyu hummed in acknowledgment. “You’re doing well. When we get to the Ming Group, go to the Secretariat for a stamp, and HR will give you a raise.”
The driver, who had inexplicably gotten a raise, exclaimed, “Thank you, President Ming! Thank you so much!”
Ming Siyu gradually regained her composure.
A little wolf like Liu Ran still dared to challenge her. Though she didn’t approve of using violence to force submission and didn’t think locking Liu Ran in the little black room for a few days would make her admit fault, punishment was necessary.
As soon as she entered the office, the scraps of paper were still lying on the floor just as before. Ming Siyu called Secretary Wen to clean them up, but Secretary Wen arrived holding a bouquet of flowers.
Very ordinary green roses mixed with sunflowers.
Secretary Wen said that the security guard at the door had given them to her when she got off work the night before, saying they were bought by a lady surnamed Liu. But when the delivery person called, the number didn’t connect, so they’d left the flowers with security.
There weren’t many people surnamed Liu, and a card was pinned to the bouquet: Thank you, President Ming, for paying my salary, biu~
Followed by an ugly little heart.
The handwriting was ugly too; it was clearly Liu Ran who had left a message for the florist to write it. Ming Siyu had seen Liu Ran’s handwriting before—it was much prettier than this.
Secretary Wen asked for instructions. “President Ming, these flowers…”
“Too ugly. Put them farther away.” Ming Siyu didn’t hesitate.
Secretary Wen prepared to take them away and throw them out as instructed. But just as she picked up the bouquet, she heard Ming Siyu say, “Just put them there.”
Ming Siyu was pointing at the sofa set on the left side of the office.
Secretary Wen glanced at the distance between Ming Siyu and the sofa—less than ten meters. Not far at all, in fact, quite close.
It seemed that handling Liu Ran’s things required more caution in the future.
There weren’t many scraps on the floor, so Secretary Wen didn’t call the janitors. She bent down and picked them up casually.
“President Ming, there seems to be a drawing on these. Take a look.” Secretary Wen handed the scraps to Ming Siyu. “Should I piece it together and send it over, or just throw it out?”
A drawing?
Ming Siyu glanced at the pencil lines on the scraps and suddenly recalled Liu Ran yesterday, head bowed seriously by the sofa. Hah, Liu Ran wouldn’t have drawn an escape route map, would she?
The malice in her eyes deepened a few shades. Ming Siyu tapped the desk with her pen tip. “Just leave them here.”
She would piece together Liu Ran’s escape route herself, then shatter it with her own hands.
After confirming Ming Siyu’s evening attendance at the Summer Film Festival gala with her, Secretary Wen left the office. Ming Siyu picked up the stack of torn paper—over twenty pieces in total. Liu Ran hadn’t torn them too finely.
Ming Siyu spent less than two minutes piecing together most of it. When she fitted the last fragment into place, she stared at the drawing and pursed her lips.
It wasn’t an escape route at all.
The pieced-together fragments formed an anime-style scene. From a slight 45-degree upward angle, behind the desk sat a woman in a sleeveless double-breasted casual suit, gripping the mouse and intently staring at the computer screen in front of her.
A black bow held her low updo in place, with a mole on her collarbone and half-rim glasses. The woman had sly, fox-like eyes with slightly upturned corners. Scattered files lay beside her hand, almost perfectly recreating Ming Siyu’s desk and surroundings.
Even though it depicted an anime character, anyone could tell the woman in the drawing was Ming Siyu.
Little Wolf had come over yesterday with her hands behind her back, holding the drawing.
So, this painting had originally been meant for her?
What was Little Wolf’s purpose in drawing this?
Little Wolf, why had she drawn her?
…
Ming Siyu leaned back in her chair, the malice in her eyes fading, replaced by a rare bewilderment.
After a moment, she took out a cigarette, stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, and slowly smoked it while gazing at the traffic below.
Smoking was a good way to stay calm and clear-headed. Ming Siyu wasn’t addicted to it; she only smoked when her thoughts were in chaos. The cool mint flavor stimulated her nasal passages and brain, and she didn’t mind the taste.
She turned back to look down at the drawing on the desk. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling window, shining on the paper and blurring the lines slightly.
She finished the cigarette quickly, tossed the butt away, found some glue and a blank sheet of paper, and carefully pasted the drawing back together like a jigsaw puzzle.
Then she took a photo and sent it to He Qiange, who was vacationing comfortably in the southern hemisphere.
[Ming Siyu: What do you think of this drawing?]
He Qiange soon sent back a voice message.
[He Qiange: To be honest, it’s pretty average. No colors at all, and it got torn up. But you can tell it’s you. Why’d you suddenly get into this?]
There was the sound of sheets rustling in the latter half of the voice message, along with a vague, husky female voice.
He Qiange almost always had female companions around, so Ming Siyu took it in stride, assuming it was just another fling in the southern hemisphere, and ignored it.
[Ming Siyu: Where is it average?]
[He Qiange: Objectively speaking, it’s just amateur level. Give a hundred bucks to any student at the Academy of Fine Arts, and they’d draw better.]
[He Qiange: Oh wait, Si Si, this isn’t one you drew yourself, is it? I took another look—smooth lines, accurate perspective, good character proportions. Actually pretty good-looking.]
[Ming Siyu: Forget it, you have no taste.]
Ming Siyu placed the drawing next to her computer and gradually got into work mode.
After busying herself for a while, she casually tapped her cup. “Liu Ran, pour me some water.”
Her voice echoed in the empty office and dissipated. No one responded. Ming Siyu waited a few seconds, then snapped out of it. She looked up at the sofa where Liu Ran usually sat waiting—now empty except for that bouquet of ugly, cheap flowers.
She had forgotten Liu Ran was locked in the little black room at home today. She had locked it herself.
Ming Siyu rubbed her brow and got up to get water for herself.
After lunch, Secretary Zhou handled the cleanup, which Liu Ran usually did.
