That pricking sensation on her back, like a needle, scattered like ink dropped into water, dissipating without a trace as Yan Yu lifted her head to search.
Her gaze swept across the crowd a few times.
Aside from a few vaguely unfamiliar faces wearing polite or curious expressions, she caught nothing out of the ordinary.
‘Was it my imagination?’
‘Or did they look away before I raised my head?’
The wariness in Yan Yu’s heart hadn’t completely dissipated, but there was nothing she could do about it for now.
She let out a soft breath, picked up her water glass, and took another small sip.
The cool liquid slid down her throat, soothing her inexplicable unease just a little.
‘Probably just this unfamiliar environment, too many people. I’m being overly sensitive.’
She comforted herself with that thought.
Just as she was planning to remain a quiet observer—watching without drawing attention, without disturbing anyone—a figure stopped beside her wheelchair without warning.
“Miss, are you alone? Do I have the honor of offering you a toast?”
The voice was a crisp female one, carrying a clean, straightforward quality.
Yan Yu looked up.
Standing before her was a young woman.
She wore a well-tailored black pantsuit, her hair pulled back into a sharp high ponytail.
Her features were delicate, her eyes bright, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
But that smile was somewhat cold, carrying a hint of scrutiny that made one uncomfortable.
In her hand was a glass of champagne.
Her posture was composed, her aura unique—a blend of competence and detachment, with a hint of lazy ease.
That face…
Yan Yu quickly searched her memory.
A vague impression surfaced.
It seemed this character had appeared in the original novel, but with very little screen time.
Who was it?
She couldn’t recall the exact name or background for a moment.
“You are…?”
Yan Yu maintained basic politeness and gave a slight nod.
But then the woman suddenly bent down, meeting her eyes at the same level.
“Miss Yan Yu, you don’t remember me? We met not long ago, didn’t we?”
The distance between them was close enough to feel each other’s breath.
…
On the other side, Jiang Muyun finally extricated herself from the conversation circle of several important guests, like a fluttering butterfly.
Her face wore a flawless sweet smile, and her steps were light as she approached Su Qinghan, who had been standing not far away, looking somewhat distracted.
“Qinghan!”
Her voice was soft and coquettish as she naturally linked her arm through Su Qinghan’s.
Tilting her head up, her eyes brimmed with dependence.
“Thank you for preparing this dress for me. I really, really love it. Wearing it, I finally feel… worthy of standing by your side.”
She twirled lightly, the hem of her skirt spreading into a beautiful arc.
The final price of this dress far exceeded the “eight thousand” she had previously scorned—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 the bill amount had stirred in her heart.
She twitched the corners of her mouth into what could be considered a warm 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 for some reason, watching Jiang Muyun’s matter-of-fact delight in the expensive gown, and recalling her undisguised pickiness over prices during the shopping trip, a corner of Su Qinghan’s heart still stirred a resentment she herself detested.
She was willing to give—but that didn’t mean the other party could take endlessly without restraint, flaunting her generosity as a trophy.
“Mm! I’m super happy!”
Jiang Muyun seemed not to notice the subtle oddity in Su Qinghan’s smile—or perhaps she simply didn’t care.
She leaned closer with a hint of playful coaxing.
“Then… I’ll go play with my friends for a bit and grab something to eat. You’d better wait for me for the opening dance, okay?”
“Alright. Go ahead, have fun.”
Su Qinghan nodded, watching her like a happy little bird, release her arm, turn, and glide away.
She made a beeline for her clique of girlfriends, who had been waiting nearby and were already winking at her.
Then those girls immediately burst into excited chatter.
Jiang Muyun stood in the middle of them, laughing and gesturing with her hands.
From beginning to end, she never looked back.
That stifling feeling in Su Qinghan’s heart seemed to grow a little heavier.
She picked up her wine glass and downed the remaining liquid.
The cool, slightly astringent alcohol slid into her stomach.
The moment Jiang Muyun left Su Qinghan’s line of sight, the sweet, dependent smile on her face faded slightly, replaced by a sly, calculating glint.
Her chubby best friend was on her left, and the girl with curly chestnut hair was on her right.
They flanked her on both sides.
“So, Muyun, did you see that Yan Yu?”
the chubby friend whispered, winking.
“Not yet. Just finished greeting a few aunts and uncles. I’m exhausted, ugh.”
Jiang Muyun pouted, but her eyes sparkled.
“But I bet you she’s here. Su Qinghan ‘invited’ her, and with that personality of hers, how could she not show? Come on, let’s go ‘find’ her. She’s probably sulking in some corner.”
“Right, right!”
the curly-haired friend immediately chimed in, her face full of anticipation.
“I can’t wait to see what terrible outfit she’s wearing today! I hope it’s still that shabby look. We’ll go ‘kindly’ show her some concern, haha!”
The three of them set off with a clear target, searching the quieter edge areas and corners.
Jiang Muyun imagined the miserable state Yan Yu might appear in, and how she would “casually” walk over, using the gentlest tone to deliver the most heart-stabbing words.
Let that hated ex-girlfriend lose face completely in front of everyone…
Just thinking about it made her feel exhilarated.
Soon, their eyes locked onto a corner by the window.
Someone was indeed sitting there, dressed in a plain, clean gown that contrasted sharply with the flashy formal wear everywhere else—so quiet she almost blended into the background.
It was Yan Yu, no mistake.
However, what made the smug smile freeze on Jiang Muyun’s lips was that Yan Yu was not as lonely and pitiful as she had imagined, utterly ignored.
Standing beside Yan Yu’s wheelchair was a person.
A young woman in a black pantsuit with a high ponytail, her posture straight.
The two seemed to be talking.
Although the content couldn’t be heard, the pose suggested it was more than a casual greeting.
Jiang Muyun’s brow immediately furrowed, a flash of displeasure at having her plan interrupted lighting her eyes.
She recognized that woman at a glance.
It was… 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 could Dai Feng know Yan Yu?
How could they possibly have any connection?
A wave of emotion—part doubt, 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.
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