Jiang Nuan wrenched herself free of everyone and quickly claimed the lone armchair in the living room.
At last, the world was quiet.
She hugged a throw pillow and swept her gaze over the three men, each harboring his own ulterior motives. Finally, her eyes settled on Ye Que’s bleeding shoulder.
“Ye Que,” she said in a languid tone, “if you secretly press it one more time, that bandage is going to be completely soaked red.”
Ye Que’s expression remained unchanged as he quietly withdrew the finger he had been pressing near his shoulder.
“Back to the point.” Shen Wu’s smile faded, and his voice grew serious once more.
“Forcing our way in to rescue them isn’t an option right now. The Cleaners have immense influence, and their troop deployment was specifically designed to counter our abilities. We can’t go through the same thing again.”
He continued, “Let’s change our approach. We can’t let the clue from that painting at the Xinghai Hotel go cold.”
“I’ll go.” Qinian suddenly raised his head, his originally somber, narrow eyes lighting up. “I’ll contact Zhou Mengmeng, the fan who sent the painting, right now.”
“With your impulsive personality?” Shen Wu’s tone was cool and cutting. “Are you hoping the Cleaners will capture you and complete their mahjong table?”
“Then what are we supposed to do?” He irritably tugged at his hair. “We can’t just sit around and wait!”
“Then I’ll—” Shen Wu rubbed his temples.
“I’ll go.” Jiang Nuan set the cushion aside, interrupting him.
Everyone’s gaze turned toward her.
“No.” Ye Que rejected the idea without a moment’s hesitation. “It’s too dangerous for you to go alone.”
“That’s why I’m not going alone.” Jiang Nuan didn’t back down. She looked at Shen Wu. “You’re coming with me.”
Shen Wu regarded Jiang Nuan seriously.
“The Cleaners have issued an explicit order forbidding them from harming me. Out of all of us, I’m the least likely to be attacked.”
Jiang Nuan continued in a clear, logical tone.
“I’m a woman, and Zhou Mengmeng is one too. It’ll be far more natural—and much easier to get information out of her—if I go ask about the painting than if a male manager goes chasing after her with questions.”
The corners of her lips lifted slightly.
“She might even treat me as a fellow enthusiast and start chatting.”
“And besides…”
She glanced at Shen Wu’s pale, almost translucent complexion, and her voice softened.
“You’ve all gone a whole night without sleep, and you’re completely exhausted. You need me to handle the conversation for you. You’ll be my eyes, and I’ll handle the conversation.”
“This is the most efficient combination we have right now.”
The room fell silent for several seconds.
Qinian couldn’t find a way to object. Jiang Nuan’s reasoning was so airtight that it left no room for argument.
In the end, Ye Que broke the silence.
“She’s right.” Leaning back against the sofa, he gave Jiang Nuan a long, meaningful look. “Protect her.”
Shen Wu and Ye Que exchanged a brief glance.
There was trust in their eyes, along with an unspoken understanding—and something even more subtle, something neither of them could say aloud.
Then Shen Wu turned to Jiang Nuan and looked into her bright, resolute eyes.
“…All right. We’ll go together.”
*
The two of them drove toward the Xinghai Hotel.
When they passed a shopping mall, Jiang Nuan pulled the car over.
“Give me ten minutes,” she said to Shen Wu, who was resting with his eyes closed in the passenger seat.
Shen Wu didn’t open his eyes. He merely gave a quiet hum in response.
Ten minutes later, Jiang Nuan had changed into a neatly tailored professional suit. It accentuated her slender, upright figure and gave her a sharper, more capable air.
A tasteful, elegant silk scarf was tied around her neck. The soft fabric concealed her collarbone and the conspicuous marks on her neck, leaving only a stretch of fair skin visible.
“Looks good.”
Shen Wu’s cool voice sounded beside her.
Jiang Nuan’s heart skipped a beat, and she turned to look at him.
Shen Wu, who had been resting just moments ago, had opened his eyes at some point. He was watching her quietly.
Yet his gaze seemed penetrating enough to see straight through the thin fabric and take in everything it concealed.
“Your sense of style is pretty good.”
“Thank you.” Jiang Nuan pretended to remain calm as she looked away from Shen Wu’s eyes and focused on the traffic ahead. “Since I’m working with Manager Shen, it’s only appropriate to dress professionally.”
The car merged smoothly into traffic.
“Jiang Nuan, did you know?” Shen Wu gave a soft laugh. “The more elaborate the cover-up, the more it resembles a conspicuous declaration of guilt.”
He turned his head slightly and looked at her meaningfully.
“Or are you using this method to silently protest the overly primitive way certain people leave their marks?”
Jiang Nuan’s fingers tightened slightly around the steering wheel.
“If it were me…” Shen Wu leaned closer with elegant composure, though his eyes were intensely predatory. “I wouldn’t be so crude.”
The instant his words fell, Jiang Nuan stiffened.
A cool, tingling sensation silently pressed against the side of her neck and cheek.
It moved slowly and meticulously, like invisible fingertips tracing the curve of her neck one stroke at a time.
It was Shen Wu’s psychic tendrils.
Jiang Nuan could feel her heartbeat slipping out of control.
Moreover…the river within her was surging uncontrollably toward that sensation, instinctively entwining with it.
She clenched her back teeth.
“My way…” His voice continued beside her ear, and the psychic tendril moved with it, gliding slowly across her skin.
“…would only leave behind something worth savoring again and again, rather than such crude evidence that needs to be hidden.”
“Shen Wu.” Jiang Nuan forced his name out through clenched teeth, her voice slightly hoarse. “I’m driving!”
“Yes, I know.” His tone even carried a hint of innocence.
“You’d better use this time to recover your strength.” She took a deep breath, struggling to steady her voice. “If something happens, I won’t have the energy to drag a corpse around.”
Shen Wu slowly leaned back into his seat, and the invisible sensation vanished with him.
But the lingering, tingling aftereffect remained on her skin.
“You really do…” He gave a soft laugh. “Have some misunderstanding about my stamina.”
He looked at Jiang Nuan and swallowed once.
“It seems I’ll have to find an opportunity to prove it to you in person…”
“My stamina…” His voice dipped suggestively. “In every sense of the word…is perfectly fine.”
Jiang Nuan rolled her eyes at him without the slightest attempt to hide it. “Shut up and rest!”
Ever since she had once remarked at the Bai residence that he was slender, this man had held a grudge.
To his credit, Shen Wu listened.
He closed his eyes again. His long lashes cast a faint shadow across his face, while the light outside the car window passed over his features, making them flicker between brightness and darkness.
When he was quiet, he was almost unrealistically handsome.
Like an exhibit in a museum meant to be admired from a distance—provided the exhibit didn’t open its mouth.
The moment it did, it became a form of psychic pollution.
The car fell silent.
The city streets raced past outside, and the outline of the Xinghai Hotel appeared at the end of the road.
She and Shen Wu were going to meet Zhou Mengmeng there and investigate the painting.
But Jiang Nuan had no idea yet that what the painting ultimately led to would be far more dangerous than the Cleaners.
