Dai Feng walked up to Yan Yu and stopped.
She swirled the champagne glass in her hand, her gaze landing on Yan Yu’s calm face, and got straight to the point.
“Hello. I know you. You are… Su Qinghan’s friend, Yan Yu, right?”
‘Friend?’
The word stirred a hint of mockery in Yan Yu’s heart.
She looked up, meeting Dai Feng’s gaze, her face wearing a perfectly polite smile: “Not a friend, more like… an acquaintance. But today, it was Miss Jiang who personally invited me to her birthday banquet.”
“Miss Jiang?”
Dai Feng’s eyebrow moved almost imperceptibly, a flicker of understanding in her eyes, followed by a faint disdain.
‘Jiang Muyun would be “kind” enough to invite Yan Yu?’
‘Anyone with half a brain would know she just wants to call her to her own turf, to show off, compare, and even humiliate her in front of everyone.’
‘That kind of petty bullying using one’s power is beneath contempt and shows a narrow mind.’
‘She looked at Yan Yu sitting in her wheelchair before her.’
‘Her complexion was better than rumored, but she could still see the signs of illness—frail, thin, quietly staying in this corner, out of place amid the surrounding splendor.’
‘Hah, Jiang Muyun.’
‘Yan Yu was an ex-girlfriend with a physical disability, already out of the picture, not even getting in the way.’
‘Yet Jiang Muyun still had to keep pressing, as if bent on destroying her completely.’
‘Thinking this, the little goodwill she had for Jiang Muyun dropped even further.’
‘Along with that, she felt an indescribable, almost sympathetic, feeling toward Yan Yu, who seemed to accept her fate so passively.’
“Alright,” Dai Feng snapped back to reality, her tone becoming more direct.
“But Miss Yan, I still want to offer a word of advice. Sometimes, constant retreat and forbearance won’t earn you sympathy or mercy—instead, it may make the other party go even further. For some things and some people, you still need to have your own boundaries and learn… to protect yourself.”
This came off as a bit abrupt, even presumptuous for someone who barely knew her.
But that was Dai Feng’s personality—if she saw something she didn’t like, she didn’t mind saying a few words.
Whether the other person listened or not was not her concern.
Yan Yu was momentarily taken aback, as if she hadn’t expected this unfamiliar young lady to say such things to her.
Then, the curve of her lips deepened.
Her calm eyes looked at Dai Feng, her voice soft and gentle, with a hint of uncertainty: “Miss Dai… suddenly saying these things to me, are you concerned about me?”
‘Concern?’
Dai Feng was taken aback by the question.
She just disliked Jiang Muyun’s behavior and said it offhand.
‘It’s not really concern, at most… a bit of meddling?’
“It’s not really concern,” Dai Feng averted her gaze and took a sip of wine.
“I’ve just seen a lot of things and mentioned it in passing. You don’t need to take it to heart.”
“Regardless, thank you, Miss Dai.”
Yan Yu’s voice was still very soft, but the gratitude sounded sincere.
She lowered her head slightly, her fragile appearance stirring that inexplicable emotion in Dai Feng’s heart again.
‘This girl… doesn’t seem as timid or clingy as the rumors say.’
‘At least, her eyes are clear and bright.’
Just then, someone not far away waved and called out: “Dai Feng! Over here!”
Dai Feng looked up and saw a few friends from her circle.
She turned back and nodded to Yan Yu: “My friends are calling me. Let’s chat some other time.”
“Mm, go ahead, Miss Dai.”
Yan Yu nodded slightly and watched her turn and leave briskly.
This scene fell precisely into Jiang Muyun’s eyes from not far away.
Her brows were furrowed so tightly they could crush a mosquito.
‘Dai Feng!’
‘That childhood friend of Su Qinghan’s who is impossible to deal with, obstinate, from a wealthy family, and yet has a bit of a wild air about her!’
Jiang Muyun had never really liked Dai Feng.
She thought Dai Feng didn’t act like a proper rich young lady—too sharp-eyed, too blunt, and always cool toward her.
On ordinary days, she often subtly belittled Dai Feng in front of Su Qinghan with remarks like “Girls should be gentler” or “It seems Miss Dai’s circle of friends is a bit mixed,” and had many arguments with Su Qinghan over it.
Even so, she was well aware of Dai Feng’s family status and didn’t dare go too far.
‘But now, Yan Yu actually dared to talk to Dai Feng?’
‘Watching them talk, though brief, it seemed… not just simple politeness?’
‘That poor substitute Yan Yu, what right does she have to strike up a conversation with Dai Feng?’
‘What qualifications does she have to appear within Dai Feng’s social circle?’
A strong sense of discomfort and anger surged in Jiang Muyun’s heart.
‘In her view, someone of Yan Yu’s status, if honored with an invitation to such an occasion, should act like a true invisible person, or like a backdrop to showcase Jiang Muyun’s kindness and magnanimity, obediently shrinking into a corner to wither away.’
‘How dare she?’
‘How dare she talk to someone of Dai Feng’s level? Is she worthy?’
The more she watched, the more suffocated Jiang Muyun felt.
Yan Yu’s calm face became especially glaring in her eyes.
She took a deep breath, quickly composed her expression, suppressed her displeasure, put on her sweet smile again, and signaled to her two eager friends beside her.
The three of them held their glasses and walked gracefully toward the corner by the window.
“Ah, Miss Yan!”
Jiang Muyun stopped in front of Yan Yu, her voice crisp with a hint of hypocrisy.
“I didn’t expect you to actually come! I was worried… that my invitation might upset you, or that you’d mind the matter between Qinghan and me, and wouldn’t grace me with your presence.”
Her tone was intimate, but her words carried a hidden sting.
Yan Yu put down her juice glass and slowly looked up.
Under the light, her face was fair and clean, her eyes calm and unruffled.
She looked at Jiang Muyun without any particular expression—neither jealousy nor humility.
She simply replied calmly: “Miss Jiang, you’re overthinking.
Your invitation was a kindness from you. I won’t mind things that are already in the past.”
Her tone was even, even polite.
But that excessive calm instead choked off the comforting words Jiang Muyun had prepared.
The embarrassment, the forced composure, the feigned strength she had anticipated from Yan Yu—none of them appeared.
Jiang Muyun’s smile froze for half a second, then she laughed even more brightly.
“Haha, that’s good, that’s good! As long as Miss Yan doesn’t mind, I’ve been worried all along…”
As she spoke, following her rehearsed script, she let her gaze drop, ready to scrutinize Yan Yu with feigned concern and casually comment on her outfit, using a gentle tone to convey subtexts of shabbiness, cheapness, and imitation, hoping to provoke a reaction from Yan Yu.
But when her eyes truly landed on the pearl-white gown Yan Yu was wearing, all the cutting remarks she had prepared instantly caught in the depths of her throat.
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