Chapter 51: Do you think that lawyer Wen of yours will ever get entangled with Song Mi again?

Song Mi was completely unguarded and was truly startled by Qiao Weiwei’s exclamation, but it lasted only a moment. She quickly regained her composure. “Qiao Yudong is your brother, isn’t he?”

“You’d better call him back right now.”

Qiao Weiwei had woken up hungry, still somewhat dizzy and lightheaded. Yet upon hearing the name Qiao Yudong, she was instantly wide awake and, moreover, a little guilty. “Um… did my brother look for you?”

Song Mi propped her chin and regarded her. “He went to Charmed Color to find you!”

“My goodness, why didn’t you say so earlier!” Qiao Weiwei instinctively searched her body for her phone, only to remember after a moment that both her phones had been confiscated by those scoundrels. “Mi, lend me your phone.”

She strode over and picked up the other phone Song Mi had left on the table. “Hey, why don’t you lock your phone screen?”

“Are you checking messages?”

“Whose number is this?” Not only did she read the messages without permission, she even read them aloud—something only Miss Qiao could pull off. “I can’t make it, Ye Zhao is filling in.”

“Who’s that?” Qiao Weiwei was in a rare moment of absent-mindedness, her usual quick wit nowhere to be found. “These days, even bodyguards are so bold? Daring to speak so directly to their boss?”

Song Mi: “…”

“Mi, this won’t do! Where’s your heroic aura from South Africa when you rescued me?” Qiao Weiwei glanced at her, exited the messages, and dialed, murmuring, “Is Jinzhou really that great? Even he’s come here.”

The call connected quickly, but the answer was slow, probably because it was an unfamiliar number. After it picked up, Qiao Yudong’s distinctive voice came through, calm and unhurried. “Who’s this?”

“Brother, it’s me!” Qiao Weiwei went to sit on the sofa without bothering to avoid Song Mi. “I heard you went to the bar looking for me? Why did you come?”

…

Beside her, Song Mi glanced at the time in boredom—it was only half past two.

She planned to return to her room for a nap. Whether she would go to Lu Zhizhi’s art exhibition could wait until she woke up.

But just as she changed clothes and lifted the covers, not yet settled in bed, Qiao Weiwei burst in like a whirlwind. “Mi, come with me somewhere tonight.”

Song Mi sat at the edge of the bed. “We’ll see.”

“You have to come.” Qiao Weiwei dashed up to her, putting on a solemn face. “Remember Lu Zhizhi?”

“The one who was trending with Lawyer Wen last time? She’s holding a solo art exhibition and invited a crowd!”

Song Mi hadn’t expected to be on the guest list as well. “Why must I go?”

“Huh?” Qiao Weiwei’s eyes darted, her expression full of disbelief, as if Song Mi had said something foolish. “To see the show, of course! She’s your rival in love!”

“It’s obvious she’s been coveting Lawyer Wen for ages!”

—Rival in love?

Song Mi thought for a moment and then smiled. “So you mean I should go support my rival?”

“Who says going means supporting?” Qiao Weiwei clearly disagreed, rolling her eyes. “Is the art world so easy to break into? Even if she’s Ye Ying’s last disciple, so what?”

“Just because her family has money, she’s making such a fuss, debuting with a solo exhibition?” Qiao Weiwei scoffed. “Even brought my brother here, making me almost unable to explain my whereabouts—had to invent a pile of nonsense, exhausting!”

Sometimes Song Mi truly thought Qiao Weiwei was a peculiar soul—she seemed to invest deeply in every person and event, for better or worse.

Dislike is also a kind of feeling.

Qiao Weiwei was openly unimpressed with Lu Zhizhi. Song Mi didn’t like her either, but she wouldn’t waste breath and expressions venting about it like Qiao Weiwei did.

What Lu Zhizhi had done to her, she would surely reclaim, with interest.

As for whether it was urgent today… she’d decide after she awoke.

Seeing Song Mi lost in thought, Qiao Weiwei took charge. “We’re going together, that’s settled!”

“I’ll personally make you beautiful—stunning, radiant, the kind that outshines that white lotus Lu in an instant.”

Song Mi was amused again and lay back. “But right now, I just want to sleep. Kindly leave and close the door.”

“Thank you.”

Who knew Qiao Weiwei would pause after a few steps and turn back. “Oh, Mi, when you wake up, could you make another pot of chicken soup for me?”

“It’s delicious!”

Song Mi had noticed in the morning that the soup pot was empty—no need to ask, Qiao Weiwei must have finished it off last night.

No warning, drank all her soup, and now brazenly requested another pot?

Miss Qiao was truly something!

“Was it red date black chicken soup?” Qiao Weiwei lingered, savoring the memory of her first sip from yesterday.

Naturally, the second and third sips were just as good; otherwise, she wouldn’t have kept drinking until it was all gone. “But isn’t that the kind of soup for someone in confinement?”

“Oh, and I saw brown sugar in the cabinet, too.”

Qiao Weiwei kept talking while Song Mi pulled the covers up and turned away, making it clear she just wanted to sleep.

Once Qiao Weiwei left, Song Mi quickly drifted off.

But it wasn’t a restful sleep.

Who knows how long it was before Qiao Weiwei’s voice buzzed in her ear again. Not only that, she reached over and shook Song Mi’s arm. “Mi, wake up—how does this outfit look on me?”

…

Elsewhere.

Lu Zhizhi hadn’t come up with the idea of ‘a circuitous approach’ overnight. Winning the approval of Wen Yanli’s mother, Feng Shengzhi, was partly fate, partly effort, but mostly because she was diligent.

And her sketch—so vivid, so full of feeling, that Feng Shengzhi recognized her son at a glance.

Which mother, faced with a girl who admires her son, can remain entirely unmoved?

Moreover, during those months in Vancouver, Lu Zhizhi accompanied Feng Shengzhi on weekend runs, brought her homemade desserts, arranged flowers with her, helped tend the garden, and even had Feng Shengzhi pose as her model once.

Whether alone or with Ye Ying and other elders, Lu Zhizhi always presented herself as a refined, well-mannered heiress with an admirable family background—a model candidate for marriage.

Once, when Feng Shengzhi fainted in the garden, it was Lu Zhizhi who found her and got her to the hospital in time.

She later secretly checked and learned that Feng Shengzhi had liver disease and had undergone a transplant years ago.

Lu Zhizhi never mentioned her interactions with Wen Yanli’s mother to him.

This time, she personally invited Feng Shengzhi, and with Ye Ying’s connection, it was natural that Feng Shengzhi flew back from afar.

What gave Lu Zhizhi hope was that as soon as she brought up the exhibition, Feng Shengzhi subtly asked whether she would display the sketch.

She could tell—Feng Shengzhi liked her.

So, as she went to the airport to meet Feng Shengzhi and her friends, Lu Zhizhi’s mind was full of ways to clarify things with Wen Yanli.

Surprisingly, when she called him, not only did he not question her motives, he asked whether she’d have time after the exhibition—he had something to discuss.

Single-parent family, mother once seriously ill.

It’s clear how much he values his mother’s opinion—perhaps he’d comply with her wishes in everything.

What would he say?

Would he suggest they start dating?

Thinking this, Lu Zhizhi couldn’t help but feel elated.

Although she always minded what he and Song Mi had done—resentful and unable to let go—she blamed it all on Song Mi.

She didn’t want to admit it, but truth be told, Song Mi was beautiful.

Shen Ruming had said it well: a woman like her, actively pursuing a man and pulling out all the stops—who could resist?

In the latter half of the video, there was a glimpse of Song Mi’s back.

Just that view—the slim waist, the curving hips—was enough to inspire envy and jealousy.

And the man.

Shen Ruming was right—this man had everything!

Chest, abs, those striking lines.

And a powerful back.

That only fueled Lu Zhizhi’s jealousy—the man should have been hers, but Song Mi, appearing out of nowhere, had snatched him away.

She hated it!

She couldn’t accept it!

When Shen Ruming called, Feng Shengzhi and her friends were already in the car, so Lu Zhizhi hurriedly dealt with the call and hung up.

After settling everyone into their hotel rooms, she found a spare moment to return Shen Ruming’s call.

She never expected Shen Ruming to make such a request!

This was her first solo exhibition. She’d invested so much time, effort, and money, inviting countless guests through her family and her brother.

—How could she do that!?

If she went along, how could she survive in this circle?

From then on, whenever her art was mentioned, what would people think of first?

But Shen Ruming just laughed. “Zhizhi, did you really think you could stay clear of it? Or do you believe after what you did to Song Mi, she’ll just let it go?”

But what truly made Lu Zhizhi resolve wasn’t the fear of Song Mi’s revenge. With the Lu family behind her, and no evidence, what could Song Mi do?

It was love.

She loved that man.

Loved him enough that she would rather destroy him herself.

Then, when he was disgraced and abandoned, she would stay by his side, encourage him, even help him build a new career.

She could bring him into the Lu Group, make him her father’s right-hand man like her brother. With his abilities, that would be easy.

She wanted to be the most important person in his life!

Yet she still had doubts, because Song Mi’s face never appeared in the video.

Even this, Shen Ruming had planned for her. “...So, do you think your Wen Yanli would stay entangled with Song Mi after this?”

Hearing this, Lu Zhizhi hesitated no more.

She never truly loved painting, nor was she particularly talented. She just kept at it for years, so she needed to achieve something ‘known by all.’

With the Lu family’s resources and the art world’s unwritten rules, creating buzz for herself and gaining fame as a new beauty on the scene wasn’t hard.

Her first solo exhibition sounded important. But if sacrificing one exhibition meant gaining love, she was willing.

Even if she couldn’t win the man’s heart immediately, she had to pass the test with Feng Shengzhi.

With this determination, Lu Zhizhi called Song Mi.

Though she didn’t get a definite answer, she was confident Song Mi would come tonight.

Once Song Mi arrived, she would not falter. Tonight, she would let everyone see what this woman—who dominated the trending lists and was hailed as the ultimate rich beauty—was truly made of!

…

At seven in the evening, Song Mi and Qiao Weiwei arrived at the villa entrance.

Judging by the scale, the Lu family really spared no expense for their daughter. As Qiao Weiwei put it, “So it’s true—artists are made by money!”

“The artist’s existential crisis: Who am I? Where am I? Who did I offend?”

Qiao Weiwei kept up her own commentary, complete with sound effects, making Song Mi laugh again. “Surely you and Miss Lu have some history?”

“Pfft, with her?” Qiao Weiwei scoffed. “Someone like her? I wouldn’t even bother to dislike her—no point in having history.”

“Please! Give me a break!” Qiao Weiwei stretched her neck, scanning the crowd. “I wonder if my brother is here yet.”

As they walked inside, a server passed by with champagne. Song Mi couldn’t help but recall that night when Lu Zhizhi handed her a glass.

Returning the favor would actually be a good tactic.

The pills were in her handbag.

Whether to use them, she still hesitated.

It wasn’t about offending the Lu family—just that tonight seemed too convenient for Lu Zhizhi.

The venue was elegantly arranged, artistic yet not contrived, clearly carefully planned.

Money—no doubt, a lot had been spent.

The atmosphere was strong.

But Song Mi hadn’t expected to run into Huo Qingjue here.

He was clearly surprised, too. “President Song.”

Song Mi smiled slightly. “Young Master Huo.”

Huo Qingjue was handsome, his smile radiating warmth—a far cry from the stiff impression he gave at their first meeting during the negotiation. “Meeting twice in one day—it seems fate brings us together, President Song.”

Song Mi made no comment, glanced at Qiao Weiwei, and introduced, “My friend, Miss Qiao.”

“Huo Qingjue, Young Master Huo.”

As Qiao Weiwei and Huo Qingjue exchanged greetings, Song Mi glanced at the nearest painting.

From color to layout, technique to visual impact—it was, at best, average.

In other words, Lu Zhizhi’s talent for painting was limited; she would never be great.

Just as she withdrew her gaze, a man approached.

Qiao Weiwei noticed and leaned in to whisper, “My brother’s coming.”

Song Mi had Qiao Yudong’s profile in her mind.

She knew his position and status—in theory, a cushy job, overseeing arts.

Lu Zhizhi inviting him was fitting.

Qiao Yudong and Huo Qingjue knew each other; another round of polite greetings followed.

Song Mi was poised and graceful, handling everything with ease.

Qiao Yudong, ever the gentleman, extended his hand to Song Mi. “President Song, my sister—thank you for looking after her!”

Song Mi smiled softly and shook his hand. “It’s mutual.”

Huo Qingjue seemed surprised that Qiao Weiwei was Qiao Yudong’s sister—a flicker of astonishment that did not escape Song Mi.

Just then, Lu Zhizhi appeared in a white dress, elegant and gracious, playing the perfect hostess.

As invited guests, they naturally followed her lead—and since it was an art exhibition, they began “appreciating” the paintings around them.

Qiao Yudong clearly had something to discuss with Qiao Weiwei, so they walked together.

Huo Qingjue seemed intent on accompanying Song Mi, but soon someone else came to greet him.

Song Mi seized the moment to slip away, alone.

Soon, from the wall-mounted speakers, a guide’s voice directed the guests to the Shuiyue Hall in the center.

In five minutes, there would be a retrospective of Ye Ying’s works.

Lu Zhizhi was clever—not afraid her teacher would steal the spotlight, but instead started the event with Ye Ying’s works.

Song Mi was distracted, her gaze searching the crowd instinctively.

Just as she stepped forward, someone behind her called her name softly, “What brings you here?”