The annual Spring Festival Banquet was held at the Zhao estate, a glittering event where the city's nobility gathered. Lanterns lit the courtyards, silk gowns rustled like waves, and music drifted in the air.
Hua Lian remembered this night well.
In her past life, at fourteen, she had been coaxed into attending, still dizzy with the thrill of being "chosen" by Zhao Rui. That night, she had been humiliated by him — made a laughingstock when he publicly called her "an unpolished village flower" unworthy of standing beside him. The laughter of the crowd had followed her for years.
But this life… was different.
When she entered the banquet, she wore a pale blue hanfu embroidered with silver plum blossoms — understated, yet refined. Her hair, once always styled carelessly, was pinned neatly with a single jade hairpin. She was no longer the fluttery, awkward girl they remembered.
Whispers rippled.
"Is that Hua Lian? She looks… different."
"Didn't she reject Young Master Zhao's proposal? How daring."
Zhao Rui, seated proudly among his peers, caught sight of her and sneered. "So she dares to show her face after slighting me."
Later, when the toasts began, Zhao Rui rose, cup in hand, his voice loud enough for the hall.
"Ah, our Hua family's young miss. I must say, you have courage — to turn down a proposal most girls would dream of. Tell me, Hua Lian, do you believe you deserve someone better than me?"
The crowd chuckled, waiting for her to stammer, blush, and wilt as she had in her past life.
But Hua Lian only smiled, her calmness a dagger hidden in silk. She stood gracefully, bowing lightly before she spoke.
"Young Master Zhao flatters himself. Marriage is not a dream, but a lifetime. To me, a husband should be someone who can match my heart, not simply my family name."
Her words were soft, yet sharp enough to draw blood. The audience gasped, some even laughing quietly at Zhao Rui's darkening face.
Then she added, voice sweet but merciless:
"As for whether I deserve better… time will prove. For now, I only know one thing—" Her eyes locked on Zhao Rui's, unwavering. "I deserve respect."
The hall fell into stunned silence.
Zhao Rui's hand trembled around his cup. Never before had Hua Lian spoken with such poise, such quiet strength. The mocking had turned — not toward her, but toward him.
And for the first time, Hua Lian felt it. The taste of victory.
Not full revenge yet — but the first strike had landed.