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Lu Yu bolted from the gallery, sprinting all the way to his car. He slammed the door shut and hit the gas, speeding off without hesitation.
Qu Wanwan withdrew her gaze coldly. If it weren’t for the fact that he still had some value left, she might’ve made a move on him long ago.
In her previous life, she remembered Lu Yu once mentioned that someone had been pulling strings behind him, manipulating him into targeting Fu Ciyu. She wanted to know—who exactly was that person?
Pushing the thought aside, she headed to her office and began working on today’s painting.
As she debated what scene to capture, a vivid image of last night’s tension-filled Fu Ciyu came to mind.
Her cheeks flushed as she lowered her head, a trace of shyness flashing across her eyes.
What should she do? She really wanted to paint that scene—
Qu Wanwan moved her hand instinctively, her brush first outlining his silhouette.
Then, stroke by stroke, she began to sketch the deep intensity of his gaze. She bit her lip lightly, her brush dancing across the canvas.
As the image unfolded, her heart began to race and her face burned—last night’s moments replaying vividly in her mind—
Riiing—
The sudden ringing of her phone shattered her train of thought.
She set down her brush, pulled out her phone, and glanced at the screen—it was Fu Ciyu.
A smile played at the corners of Qu Wanwan’s eyes as she answered the call. “Husband—”
“I’m going to your house tonight. Should I come pick you up later?” Fu Ciyu’s warm and pleasant voice flowed into her ear.
Qu Wanwan responded cheerfully, “Sure, I’ll wait for you.”
“Mhm. Are you still feeling sore?”
“I—”
“I’m hanging up now.”
Fu Ciyu abruptly ended the call, leaving Qu Wanwan scrambling.
That damned man—could he just drop the topic already?
Suppressing her flustered mood, she forced herself to calm down and focus back on her painting.
Time flew by, and before she knew it, it was already three in the afternoon. With the entire composition and outline complete, Qu Wanwan stared at it, her cheeks flushed red—
“Wan-jie.”
A staff member from the gallery knocked softly on the office door.
Qu Wanwan finally snapped out of her trance, quickly reining in the heat rising within her. “What is it?”
“Someone outside has taken a liking to the portrait of Master Fu… They want to buy it.”
Qu Wanwan froze. “Who is it?”
Mumu shook her head. “Never seen her before.”
“Let’s go take a look.”
Qu Wanwan carefully put the painting away and followed Mumu outside.
At the end of the hallway stood a woman in a deep wine-red dress that hugged her alluring figure. Her light yellow curls were casually tied back. Even from the side, without a trace of makeup, she was stunning—a rare kind of striking beauty, more refined than even the heavily made-up celebrities.
“Hello—” Qu Wanwan greeted her politely.
The woman turned upon hearing the voice.
In that instant, as she turned, Qu Wanwan’s pupils constricted sharply.
Her—
It was her—
The woman who had poisoned Fu Ciyu in her previous life—
The woman smiled sweetly. “Hello. Are you the owner of this gallery?”
Qu Wanwan forced down the shock swirling in her chest and calmly replied, “Yes, I am.”
“This painting—can I buy it from you? Name your price.” The woman sounded like someone who had money to spare.
Qu Wanwan’s voice was cool and distant. “I’m sorry. This painting is not for sale.”
The woman seemed slightly surprised. “Why not?”
“Because it’s a portrait of my husband. I won’t be selling it.”
The woman let out a laugh of disbelief. “Boss, are you just obsessed with the idea of having a husband? He’s not even married.”
“You know him?” Qu Wanwan narrowed her eyes, wanting to figure out how this woman came to know Fu Ciyu before.
The woman smiled slightly. “More than just know him. If things hadn’t taken a turn, we probably would’ve been married.”
Qu Wanwan’s expression darkened. “Miss, there’s a difference between daydreams and delusions.”
The woman’s face shifted. “You’re being ridiculous. He—”
“He’s mine.”
The woman scoffed. “What a load of bullshit.”
“You—”
“Mumu, see the guest out.” Qu Wanwan’s voice turned a few shades colder.
Mumu quickly stepped forward. “Apologies, Miss. This was personally painted by our boss. It’s not for sale.”
“If you open a gallery and refuse to sell your paintings, are you just sitting around fantasizing about being his wife?” The woman sneered with disdain.
“She doesn’t need to fantasize,” a deep, displeased voice cut in from behind her. “Because she is my wife.”
The woman spun around at the sound.
When she saw Fu Ciyu, her eyes lit up with a stunned admiration. “Ciyu?”
Fu Ciyu’s brows furrowed, his voice carrying a trace of surprise. “Lu Nanzhi?”
As soon as he said the name, Qu Wanwan’s body went rigid.
Lu Nanzhi—
Lu Nanzhi—
“Heh…”
“Lu Nanzhi—”
Qu Wanwan laughed through her tears, but that laughter quickly crumbled into quiet sobs.
So she was the one behind Shen Man in the previous life.
She had helped Lu Yu and Shen Man suppress the Qu family and frame Fu Ciyu.
Qu Wanwan had once thought it was simply because Lu Nanzhi hated her for stealing Fu Ciyu’s heart.
But now, she understood clearly—Lu Nanzhi had never wanted the Qu family. She had always wanted the Fu family.
She suddenly remembered a vague conversation she had overheard in her past life—Shen Man saying, “Lu Nanzhi wants revenge on Fu Ciyu. Apparently, it’s because her younger brother died at Fu Ciyu’s hands.”
Fu Ciyu’s face darkened instantly. He stepped forward and caught her trembling figure, steadying her.
“What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?” he asked, concern thick in his voice.
Qu Wanwan lifted her head and looked at him, eyes heavy with emotion.
“When did you meet her?” she asked, her voice low and intense.
She didn’t care about anything else.
She just wanted to know—was Fu Ciyu already poisoned?
Fu Ciyu thought she was just being jealous and quickly explained, “It was two months ago. She was a business partner. There was nothing between us.”
“Two months ago…”
“It’s already been two months—”
Is it already too late?
Qu Wanwan murmured to herself, her eyes reddening. She grabbed Fu Ciyu’s hand, her voice urgent and trembling. “A-Yu, let’s go to the hospital. We need to see Gu Yichen.”
Noticing how off she seemed, his tone softened. “Wanwan, tell me, what exactly is going on?”
“To the hospital. We need to see Gu Yichen!” she shouted, her voice cracking from the intensity.
“Wanwan! Calm down! Please, tell me what happened.”
Fu Ciyu couldn’t believe she would get this worked up for no reason. Something must have happened—something serious.
Qu Wanwan was terrified. She feared he would end up like in her previous life, trapped in that pitch-dark basement without a single ray of light.
If it hadn’t been for her, he wouldn’t have—
He wouldn’t have been forced to end it all with his own hands…
How could she ever forgive herself?
“A-Yu, please, just listen to me. Let’s go see Yichen, alright? Let him run a check-up on you.”
Fu Ciyu was momentarily stunned. “A check-up? For me?”
Lu Nanzhi’s sharp gaze swept over Qu Wanwan’s unusual behavior.
Her reaction had started the moment she heard her name—
Does she know who I am?
“Qingye!” Fu Ciyu called out sternly.
Qingye rushed in from outside. “Master, what’s wrong with Madam?”
“Madam? Ciyu, you’re married?” Lu Nanzhi looked at him in disbelief.
“See her out,” Fu Ciyu said coldly.
Qingye immediately gestured politely. “Miss Lu, this way please.”
“Ciyu—”
“Lu Nanzhi,” Fu Ciyu’s voice dropped several degrees, laced with warning, “if I ever see you in the capital again, I won’t hesitate to move against the Lu family.”
Lu Nanzhi froze at his words.
“Fu Ciyu, I don’t understand.”
“You don’t need to. Offending my wife means you’ve already crossed the line.”
“You—!”
“Please, Miss Lu.”
“Hmph. You’ll regret this.”
Leaving those words behind, Lu Nanzhi stormed out of the gallery.