The Chen estate was alive with soft music and muted chatter, the sprawling grounds illuminated by warm lanterns that flickered gently against the velvet night. The grand mansion, an aged but stately structure, stood proudly amidst the manicured gardens—its ornate balconies and tall windows casting delicate shadows on the stone paths below.
Inside the main hall, the air hummed with laughter and the clink of fine china. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, their glow refracting through delicate porcelain and shimmering glassware. A long table was set with exquisite dishes, but the centerpiece was the birthday cake—a delicate confection adorned with gold leaf and delicate sugar flowers that seemed almost too beautiful to eat.
The guests milled about, most cloaked in understated elegance befitting the Chen family's stature, but all eyes turned subtly as the entrance doors opened. Wen Yanyi stepped in.
Her presence was quiet but undeniable. Jet-black hair cascaded in loose waves down her back, catching the light like polished onyx. The half-tied style framed her face with a few careless strands that softened her sharp features and lent a casual grace to her polished look. She wore a pale blush mini dress with off-the-shoulder draped sleeves that revealed the gentle curve of her shoulders and long, sculpted legs. The fitted corset bodice hugged her slim waist perfectly, and the skirt flared playfully around her thighs, giving her the effortless air of a goddess among mortals.
Yanyi's soft footsteps barely made a sound on the marble floor, yet wherever she moved, heads turned, and whispers followed—though few dared approach her directly.
In a corner near the balcony, Chen Mohan stood with three friends, all tall, impeccably dressed men whose quiet presence was felt before they spoke. Mohan's dark hair was neatly combed, his cold eyes behind thin-rimmed glasses observing the scene with calculated detachment. His long legs crossed casually as he sipped his drink, his expression unreadable.
"Looks familiar," one of his friends murmured, nodding toward Yanyi.
Mohan's gaze lingered briefly. "Wen Yanyi," he said softly, almost to himself. "She's changed."
Another friend raised an eyebrow. "You knew her before?"
Mohan gave a faint, almost imperceptible nod but said nothing more. The group let the subject drop as Jinyi, bubbly and bright in a pale blue dress, approached Yanyi with an easy smile. Her laughter was light and carefree, the kind that could fill a room and make those around her relax.
"This is my friend Mei Ling," Jinyi introduced, gesturing to a petite girl with sparkling eyes and an infectious grin.
Yanyi smiled warmly, her voice like a whispering breeze as she greeted them. "A pleasure."
Jinyi handed her a neatly wrapped box, a small gift for her birthday. "Thank you for coming, Yanyi. It means a lot."
The conversation flowed easily as they moved toward the center of the hall for the cake cutting. Jinyi's eyes often flickered toward Gu Yichen, a strikingly handsome man across the room whose presence seemed to hush the air around him. Yanyi caught the furtive glances and the nervous gulp of Jinyi when she saw him, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks.
Later, away from prying ears, Yanyi's voice lowered as they talked in veiled hints about Jinyi's obvious crush. There was no direct mention of names, just a delicate dance of words full of suggestion and laughter, the kind only close friends could share.
To ease her nerves, Jinyi took a hesitant sip of the champagne, the bubbles tickling her throat. She flushed deeper, and Yanyi's soft smile deepened in understanding.
As the evening progressed, the men—Mohan and his friends—retreated upstairs, their talk shifting to matters far removed from the celebration below.
From across the room, Yanyi's eyes caught sight of Shen Moli—the adopted daughter of the Shen family. Her sharp gaze was fixed intently on Yanyi, a shadow of something darker lurking behind her composed exterior. Jinyi noticed her too and whispered her thoughts, but Yanyi responded only with a gentle, unreadable smile.
The party's tempo slowed as the night grew deeper. Jinyi's laughter faltered, and it became clear she was tipsy. Yanyi quickly stepped in, offering help and quietly calling for a maid to escort Jinyi to her room.
Once Jinyi was safely led away, Yanyi moved toward the open terrace, pretending to seek fresh air. The cool night breeze teased the loose strands of her jet-black hair, and her heart kept a steady beat beneath her calm exterior.
But Shen Moli was not far behind. Her approach was subtle, her steps quiet but purposeful.
And as Yanyi leaned on the balustrade, gazing into the starry sky, the prey was lured.