Although the Su family had never publicly acknowledged Celia's identity, they certainly didn't want her appearing in high society. Why hadn't this foolish girl gone back to the countryside yet?
"Celia, what are you doing here?" Su Changrong and Li Lan's expressions changed dramatically. They knew her presence could only mean trouble.
Mrs. Song looked toward the door in confusion. "Mr. Su, Mrs. Su, who is this?"
Li Lan forced a smile and quickly replied, "Oh, she's the daughter of a distant relative. We took pity on her and brought her to the Su family as a... housemaid."
It was appalling—Li Lan didn't even hesitate to call her own daughter a maid.
The noble ladies glanced at Celia, their gazes sweeping over the faint scar on her cheek with unconcealed disdain.
One of them suddenly recalled, "Wait, isn't she that clownish country girl who demanded a hundred million at the Fu family dinner? And then shamelessly invited Mr. Fu for the first dance? Absolutely disgraceful."
The room erupted with chuckles and whispered ridicule. It had become a spectacle.
Just then, Rosalie rose from her seat with gentle grace and said, "Celia, why are you here? Have you eaten yet? Would you like to join us?"
A few ladies chimed in, fawning over Rosalie, "Rosalie, you're so kind-hearted. But surely the help shouldn't be dining with us."
Celia was completely unfazed by their condescension. She stepped inside with calm elegance, her slender figure drawing every eye, and stopped right in front of Rosalie.
"Rosalie, I heard you were the one who cured Mrs. Song's skin condition. That's quite impressive," she said casually. "But—did you really treat her?"
Her words sent a ripple of shock through the room.
Su Changrong immediately shot to his feet. "Celia! What are you trying to imply? Of course Rosalie was the one who treated Mrs. Song!"
Song Zilin, who had never liked Celia, scowled and snapped, "Why are you always showing up where you're not wanted? Of course my mother was treated by Rosalie. Do you expect us to believe it was you? A backwoods country girl?"
Celia raised an eyebrow and gave him a slow, mocking glance. "My mother taught me not to waste words on idiots."
Li Lan was so startled that she almost choked. "I never taught her that!"
Song Zilin's face turned red. "You—!"
Mrs. Song rose to her feet as well. "Miss Su, what exactly do you mean?"
"Well, here's the thing…" Celia said slowly, letting her words hang in the air. "I was actually at the Shanti Hotel that night. I saw with my own eyes who had the ointment."
Gasps echoed through the room.
What?
Celia had seen King?
Rosalie's gentle smile faltered. She had thought she could bluff her way through this. She hadn't expected Celia to have been there that night.
What now?
"Miss Su, are you saying the person you saw wasn't Rosalie?" Mrs. Song asked, clearly puzzled.
"Well…" Celia deliberately drew out the sound and turned her bright, clear eyes toward Rosalie.
Rosalie was frozen, barely daring to breathe. She feared Celia would reveal the truth.
"Oh, Rosalie," Celia suddenly said, tilting her head with mock concern. "Why are you sweating? You look so nervous. The lighting that night was pretty dim—I couldn't see the person's face clearly."
Rosalie exhaled sharply, relief flooding her face. So—she didn't see.
But then she noticed Celia smiling faintly, her gaze teasing and a little too calm. That smile held amusement... and control.
Something was off. Celia wasn't acting like the timid girl she used to be.
Just then, Celia looked around the room and gave a polite wave of her hand. "Everyone, please—sit, sit. I only came to say a few words. No need to look so tense."
The room fell quiet.
"I won't take up any more of your time. Enjoy your meal," Celia said. She turned to Song Zilin with a pointed look and then addressed the waiter. "Oh, waiter, please bring Young Master Song a glass of walnut milk—maybe it'll help his brain function."