Chapter 71 – Cousin's New Alliance
Yulan had never been one to accept defeat quietly. The humiliation of the gala lingered in her like a bitter taste that would not wash away. Servants whispered that she had shattered a porcelain vase against the wall the morning after, though she smiled too brightly at luncheon to confirm it. Her pride demanded repair, and repair, in her mind, meant alliance.
In the days that followed, she began drawing threads together, weaving her net from those who had once circled Liang Yue warily but never dared approach directly. She entertained foreign investors at her home, pouring imported wine with a practiced grace. She invited minor aristocrats for afternoon tea, all wide smiles and carefully chosen compliments. She even lowered herself to speak with business owners she had once dismissed as insignificant, promising them protection, opportunity, revenge.
It was desperation dressed as confidence. And though Yulan played her part with conviction, there was a brittleness in the edges of her laughter, a sharpness in her eyes when she thought no one noticed. Xu Liwei, crumbling by the day, could no longer lend her strength. If she were to survive—no, to reclaim her place—she would need new allies, and quickly.
Word of these efforts reached Liang Yue before Yulan herself could flaunt them. Reports arrived in quiet streams: a foreign consortium with deep pockets, intrigued by Yulan's promises; a pair of seasoned socialites, women who had spent decades shaping public opinion in salons and dining halls, suddenly showing unusual interest in her gatherings. On the surface, the moves seemed clever. To many, they might even look threatening.
But when Liang Yue listened to her advisor recount these details, her expression did not shift. She sat with her usual calm, her fingers lightly curled around a porcelain teacup, steam curling faintly upward.
"So," she said when the report ended, her tone as smooth as the surface of the tea. "She has finally realized she cannot stand alone."
Her advisor hesitated. "The foreign investors have considerable capital. If they are convinced by her performance—"
"They are not convinced," Liang Yue interrupted gently, setting her cup down. Her gaze, steady and unhurried, met his. "They are testing. The difference is everything."
The advisor bowed his head, chastened, though relief flickered in his eyes. Liang Yue did not dismiss concerns lightly, but when she dismissed them at all, it was with reason.
Later that evening, she shared the news with Huo Tianrui as they walked through the garden behind her residence. The lanterns cast pools of golden light across the gravel paths, illuminating chrysanthemums just beginning to bloom.
"Yulan has been busy," she said, her voice almost amused. "She's gathered herself a little court. Foreign capital, aging manipulators, desperate merchants. Quite the patchwork."
Huo Tianrui's mouth curved in a smile that did not reach his eyes. "Patchwork unravels easily, Yue. One thread pulled, and the rest follows."
"True." She slowed her steps, her gaze lingering on the blossoms glowing pale against the night. "But she has chosen well enough to make noise. That is all she wants—for people to think the tide might turn back in her favor. Noise can unsettle the unsteady."
"And you?" he asked.
Her eyes flicked toward him, luminous in the lamplight. "I am not unsteady."
He gave a low chuckle, the sound warm despite its edge. "That is precisely why they'll fail. Yulan mistakes your restraint for weakness, as she always has. She does not see that you're studying her, waiting for the moment her alliances reveal more about themselves than they intend."
Liang Yue did not answer at once. She watched the flicker of a moth drawn toward the lantern, its wings beating desperately against the glass until, exhausted, it fell away. Then she spoke.
"Every alliance she makes tells me who fears her downfall most, and who is foolish enough to believe in her revival. That is worth more to me than stopping her now."
"You'll let her spin her little web," Huo Tianrui said, understanding dawning in his tone.
"And when the strands are all tied, I will see the shape of it," she replied. "Only then will I decide whether to cut it apart or let it collapse under its own weight."
There was no bravado in her words, no arrogance. Only a calm certainty, as if she were observing the tides instead of battling them. Huo Tianrui found himself watching her more than the path ahead, struck once again by how easily she carried authority without raising her voice.
"Yulan doesn't know it yet," he murmured, "but every move she makes only secures your position further. She thinks she's building a weapon. What she's building is a mirror."
Liang Yue's lips curved faintly, her eyes still on the chrysanthemums. "And in that mirror, she will see her own desperation."
By the week's end, Yulan's efforts bore their first fruit. Invitations were delivered to prominent families: an exclusive dinner, hosted by Yulan herself, where her new partners would be unveiled. The city buzzed with curiosity. After the spectacle of the gala, after Xu Liwei's humiliations, could Yulan truly have found a path back to relevance?
Liang Yue received her invitation last of all, a fact that amused her more than it insulted her. Yulan still could not resist the small games, the petty gestures of hierarchy. But the gilded envelope, delivered by a nervous messenger, was more revealing than any speech. Yulan wanted her there. Needed her there.
"She believes your presence validates her return," Huo Tianrui said when she showed him the envelope.
"Or," Liang Yue answered softly, "she believes my refusal will make her seem untouchable. Either way, she ties herself to me again."
He studied her expression, calm as always, though the faint gleam in her eyes suggested satisfaction. "And what will you do?"
"I will attend," she said. "Not to grant her validation, but to remind her that every alliance she forms still stands in my shadow."
Her tone was not cruel, not gloating. It was simply fact, spoken as naturally as breathing. Huo Tianrui inclined his head, accepting her decision without question. He had long since learned that when Liang Yue moved, it was not impulse but inevitability.
And so, as Yulan stitched together her fragile alliances with trembling hands and too-bright smiles, Liang Yue prepared herself not with armor, not with aggression, but with the quiet poise of someone who already knew the outcome. The city might hold its breath in anticipation of Yulan's next spectacle, but Liang Yue had already seen the truth.
A patchwork could not become a crown.