Yan Yu maneuvered her wheelchair, gliding slowly into the top banquet hall of Tiannanxing Garden.
The lights were a warm gold, like melted honey, covering everything in sight.
Countless spots of light fell on the mirror-like marble floor like shattered stars.
The air carried the scent of flowers and wine, mixed with expensive perfume—it was dizzying if you smelled it too long.
Men and women in luxurious clothes chatted and laughed quietly, holding crystal-clear wine glasses, every movement elegant and unhurried.
If it had been the original Yan Yu, seeing this scene, her heart probably would have stopped.
She would have felt her hands and feet had nowhere to go, would have been mortified by her own shabbiness, would have wished she could disappear immediately.
But the current Yan Yu felt not a single ripple in her heart.
She only thought… it was a bit noisy.
All of this before her—the splendor, the fragrance of clothes and perfume—in her eyes, it was no different from a luxurious movie set.
Pretty, yes, but nothing more than flowers in a mirror, the moon on the water.
She hadn’t come here to admire the set.
She had come to act, to perform a key scene for a specific audience.
Thinking that way, the slight tension caused by the unfamiliar environment completely dissolved.
She even felt a little curious as she glanced around—after all, such an extravagant scene, in her previous world, she had only seen on TV.
Her outfit today was bought with that mysterious VIP card.
A cream-white silk blouse paired with wide-leg trousers, casually draped with a matching thin cashmere shawl.
The fabric was flawless, smooth and cool against her skin.
The style was simple, no flashy decorations, but the cut was superb, lending a certain charm to her slender figure.
Especially the skirt—it was cleverly designed, completely hiding her inability to walk, making her look elegant even while seated.
Her face wore only light makeup, almost invisible, but her complexion was much better.
Her hair wasn’t deliberately styled; it just cascaded softly.
Around Yan Yu’s neck hung a thin chain with a small pearl pendant—unobtrusive, but revealing a hint of taste upon closer inspection.
She knew this outfit, compared to the dazzling dresses and sequins all around, was a bit cold and too plain.
But that was exactly the effect she wanted.
The electric wheelchair glided forward almost silently, carrying her steadily.
She could feel gazes sticking to her from all directions.
At first, there were curious looks—after all, a young girl in a wheelchair was rare at such an occasion.
Then those gazes gained new meaning: envy, surprise, doubt, and unconcealed curiosity.
“…Who is that young lady? I’ve never seen her before.”
“She’s really pretty, and has great poise. It’s a pity she’s in a wheelchair…”
“That outfit… is it a custom piece from Cloud Garments? Looks like Silas’s handiwork. My god, how much did that cost to get?”
“Is she a friend of Miss Jiang? Or some special guest invited by the Su family?”
“Anyway, she’s definitely no ordinary person. I bet she’s from some big family, a VIP guest of Miss Su.”
“Very likely. Hey, later I’ll go toast her and get to know her. Rare chance to meet someone like that…”
The whispers were like mosquito buzzes, but Yan Yu’s ears could catch some of them.
Her face showed no expression, but inside she felt a bit amused.
‘See? Clothes make the man, gold makes the deity.’
In this worldly world, just by changing your skin, others looked at you differently.
If she had appeared like this before, she would have only received sympathy or pity, maybe even some mockery.
But now, she had become a mysterious guest.
She ignored those glances and directly found a corner by a window to stop.
The view was good here—she could see most of the venue without being too conspicuous.
A waiter immediately bent over to serve her, but she gently shook her head, indicating she didn’t need anything for now.
Soon after she sat down, the lights dimmed a little, and a spotlight hit the small stage up front.
Su Qinghan walked up.
Yan Yu’s gaze involuntarily followed her.
Su Qinghan wore a tailored evening gown tonight, accentuating her slender waist and long legs.
Standing in the light, she exuded a natural aura of control over everything.
She picked up the microphone, her voice coming through the speakers—steady, clear, with that familiar polite but distant tone.
“Thank you all for taking the time to come tonight to celebrate the birthday of my important friend, Muyun…”
Yan Yu listened quietly, but her mind wandered.
She looked at the young girls in the audience staring at Su Qinghan.
Their eyes sparkled with undisguised worship and longing, and with naked envy—even jealousy—for the position beside Su Qinghan.
The original host, Yan Yu, had once been one of them.
No, even more humble.
But because of a face that resembled hers, she had gotten a chance to approach Su Qinghan—like Cinderella finding a glass slipper by accident, not knowing the shoe came with a curse.
Those three years, she had been cautious, learning to smile like others, learning to speak like others, desperately trying to grasp a little warmth—only to make herself more pathetic in the end.
Thinking about it, a faint emotion flickered through Yan Yu’s heart.
It was hard to say if it was sympathy or mockery—for the original host, and also for her own ridiculous situation now.
Su Qinghan’s speech was very short, just some formal words.
After finishing, she stepped down amid applause and was soon surrounded by a few people who looked like elders.
The banquet officially began.
The music changed to a livelier tune, and people started moving around, toasting each other, chatting, and laughing.
Yan Yu still sat alone in the corner.
She didn’t get any food; she only occasionally sipped the warm water a waiter timely offered.
She was waiting—for the right moment, or… for someone who would inevitably come looking for her.
Time passed.
The bustle around her seemed separated by a transparent glass wall.
Feeling a little bored, she was considering pretending to look at her phone.
Suddenly.
A chill ran down her spine.
It was very abrupt, as if a pair of eyes in the dark had locked onto her.
Not the casual curious glances around, but a focused stare with intense presence.
Yan Yu’s hand holding the cup paused almost imperceptibly.
‘Who?’
She didn’t immediately turn her head in panic—that would be too obvious.
Keeping her original posture, she only slightly raised her eyelashes, her gaze pretending to be casual as it slowly swept over the moving crowd in front.
Jiang Muyun, surrounded like the moon by stars, stood not far from the stage, smiling brightly, probably too busy to pay attention to her.
Su Qinghan was still talking to someone, her gaze not drifting this way.
Then who?
This gaze… made her a bit uncomfortable.
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