That piercing gaze, like needles on her back, dissipated like ink in water the moment Yan Yu looked up, vanishing without a trace.
Her eyes swept through the crowd several times.
Aside from a few unfamiliar faces wearing polite or curious expressions, she caught nothing unusual.
‘Was it my imagination?’
‘Or did she look away before I raised my head?’
The vigilance in Yan Yu’s heart didn’t fully dissipate, but there was nothing she could do for now.
She exhaled softly, picked up her glass, and took another small sip. The cool liquid slid down her throat, soothing the nameless unease.
‘Probably the unfamiliar environment, too many people. I’m just being paranoid.’
She comforted herself with that thought.
Just as she decided to continue being a quiet observer, blending in without startling or disturbing anyone—
A figure stopped abruptly beside her wheelchair.
“Miss, are you alone? Do I have the honor of toasting you?”
The voice was crisp, female, with a straightforward, decisive quality.
Yan Yu looked up.
Standing before her was a young woman.
She wore a well-tailored black pantsuit, with a neat high ponytail. Her features were delicate, eyes bright, and a faint smile curled at the corners of her mouth.
But that smile carried a cold edge, a hint of scrutiny that made it slightly unpleasant.
In her hand, she held a glass of champagne. Her posture was composed, her aura unique—somewhere between capable and aloof, with a leisurely, languid demeanor.
That face…
Yan Yu quickly searched her memory.
A vague impression surfaced. It seemed this character had appeared in the original story, but with only a minor role.
Who was she?
She couldn’t quite recall the exact name or background.
“You are…?”
Yan Yu nodded politely, maintaining basic courtesy.
But the woman suddenly bent down to meet her eyes.
“Miss Yan Yu, you don’t remember me? We met not too long ago, didn’t we?”
They were close enough to feel each other’s breath.
…
On the other side, Jiang Muyun fluttered like a graceful butterfly, finally extricating herself from a circle of important guests.
Her face wore a flawless, sweet smile as she lightly walked toward Su Qinghan, who had been standing nearby, looking somewhat absentminded.
“Qinghan!”
Her voice was soft and clingy. She naturally linked her arm through Su Qinghan’s, looked up, and filled her eyes with dependence.
“Thank you for this dress. I really, really love it. Only wearing it makes me feel… worthy of standing by your side.”
She twirled lightly, her skirt blooming into a beautiful arc.
The final price of this dress far exceeded the eight thousand she had previously sneered at—enough for a down payment on a small apartment in Jiangcheng.
Su Qinghan looked at her radiant smile and forcibly suppressed the subtle, uncomfortable feeling that had arisen from the bill’s amount.
She twitched the corners of her mouth into what could pass as a gentle smile.
“It’s just a dress. I’m glad you like it. Muyun, your happiness is what matters most.”
She meant those words sincerely—but somehow, as she watched Jiang Muyun’s matter-of-fact delight over the expensive gown and her earlier unabashed criticism of prices during shopping, a tiny corner of her heart stirred with a sting of pettiness she despised in herself.
She was willing to give, but that didn’t mean the other party could take without restraint, or treat her generosity as a ticket to flaunt.
“Mhm! I’m super happy!”
Jiang Muyun either didn’t notice the slight strain in her smile, or didn’t care. She leaned in closer, with a hint of coaxing.
“Then… I’ll go play with my friends over there for a bit and grab some food. For the opening dance later, you have to wait for me, okay!”
“Alright, go ahead. Have fun.”
Su Qinghan nodded, watching her like a happy little bird release her arm and flutter away, heading straight for her group of friends, who were already waving and making faces at her.
Then those girls burst into excited chatter, Jiang Muyun at the center, laughing and joking, without once looking back at Su Qinghan.
The uncomfortable feeling in her heart seemed to grow a little heavier.
She raised her glass and downed the remainder of its contents. The cool liquid, with its slightly astringent taste, slid into her stomach.
The moment Jiang Muyun left Su Qinghan’s sight, her sweet, dependent smile faded, replaced by a flicker of cunning satisfaction.
Her chubby friend was on her left, and the girl with chestnut curls on her right—one flanking her on each side.
“So, Muyun, did you see that Yan Yu?”
The chubby friend whispered, winking.
“Not yet. Just finished greeting some aunties and uncles. Exhausted, phew.”
Jiang Muyun pursed her lips, but her eyes sparkled.
“But I bet you guys she definitely came. Su Qinghan sent an ‘invitation’—with her personality, how could she not? Come on, let’s go ‘find’ her. She’s probably hiding in some corner wallowing in self-pity.”
“Yeah, yeah!” the curly-haired friend immediately agreed, her face full of anticipation. “I can’t wait to see what ridiculous outfit she’s wearing today! Hopefully she’s still in that poor, shabby look. We’ll ‘kindly’ go over and ‘care’ for her, haha!”
With a clear goal, the three of them began searching the quieter edges and corners.
Jiang Muyun imagined the wretched state Yan Yu might appear in, and how she would casually approach her, using the gentlest tone to say the most cutting words.
Making that hateful ex-girlfriend lose face completely in front of everyone… Just thinking about it made her feel elated.
Soon, their eyes locked onto a corner by a window.
Someone was indeed sitting there, wearing a simple, plain dress that stood in stark contrast to the dazzling gowns filling the venue, blending into the background so quietly that she almost disappeared.
It was Yan Yu, no mistake.
However, what froze the smug smile on Jiang Muyun’s lips was this: Yan Yu was not, as she had imagined, alone and pitiful, ignored by everyone.
Right beside Yan Yu’s wheelchair stood a person.
A young woman in a black pantsuit, her hair in a high ponytail, with a tall, straight figure.
The two seemed to be talking. Though Jiang Muyun couldn’t hear the words, their postures suggested more than a casual greeting.
Jiang Muyun’s brow immediately furrowed, a flash of displeasure in her eyes at the disruption of her plan.
She recognized that woman at once.
Wasn’t that… Dai Feng? Su Qinghan’s closest childhood friend?
What was she doing here?
And… it looked like she was talking to Yan Yu?
No way, how would Dai Feng know Yan Yu?! How could they possibly have any connection?
A wave of unease—part suspicion, part irritation—surged into Jiang Muyun’s heart.
Her carefully prepared opening act seemed to have encountered an unexpected spoiler before it could even begin.