Chapter 12: Dawn.

“First, thank you all for taking time out of your busy schedules to be here…”

The deputy mayor, an older woman, bore clear marks of age on her face, yet it was evident she’d been a beauty in her youth.

Honestly, Lu Zhao had expected this gathering to be grand and sophisticated.

But it wasn’t much different from a class reunion—just with flattery and brown-nosing instead of casual chatter.

After her speech, the deputy mayor stepped down to prepare for the rest of the event.

The crowd split into three factions.

One group clustered around Yan Ruyue, chatting and drinking. Another gathered around Ling Chenxi.

And the third faction…

“Qingxin, even if you love food, mind the occasion! You’ve nearly cleared the table!”

Lu Zhao was baffled. His girlfriend’s appetite dwarfed even his from his past life, yet her stomach stayed flat no matter how much she ate.

“Hey! Ling Cang, why are you passing her more food?”

“Huh?” Ling Cang looked conflicted. “Well… she likes eating, so let her eat. I don’t eat much myself, but I love watching others eat.”

“Exactly, mmph!” Yan Qingxin thumped her chest. Lu Zhao quickly handed her a glass of water.

“Phew… almost choked on that meat. Baby, you don’t know, Ling Cang’s a top-tier fan of some food vlogger on a streaming platform.”

It was news to Lu Zhao, who gave Ling Cang a sidelong glance.

“Hehe.” Ling Cang’s face flushed with embarrassment.

“Besides, you can’t get full here. How about we hit up a hotpot place after this?”

Lu Zhao stared at the half-empty table, his eyelid twitching uncontrollably.

Good thing your family’s loaded! Who else could keep up with your eating?

“Uh…” Ling Cang rubbed her hands, looking down. “I’ll pass. Don’t want to be a third wheel.”

Yan Qingxin slung an arm around her shoulder. “No way, it’s fine! You’re the one who told me to act fast, ‘first come, first served,’ right?”

“Plus, Baby won’t mind, right?”

Catching his girlfriend’s look, Lu Zhao chimed in, “Yeah, no problem. Come along, hotpot’s better with more people.”

Yan Qingxin’s dorm had four girls, and Ling Cang was her closest friend. Plus, her soft personality posed no threat in Yan Qingxin’s eyes.

There was another reason: Yan Qingxin had told Lu Zhao she wanted to help Ling Cang change.

Ling Cang herself wanted to, as Ling Chenxi had subtly mentioned in public that her daughter’s personality wasn’t suited to inherit her position.

Though Ling Cang wasn’t keen on it, she didn’t want to disappoint her mother—or rather, she craved her approval.

“Oh, right.” Yan Qingxin suddenly remembered something Yan Ruyue had mentioned. “Ling Cang, is your mom announcing you as her heir tonight?”

“Hm?” Lu Zhao looked puzzled too.

The question plunged Ling Cang into silence. She lowered her head, eyes darting, biting her lip, visibly anxious.

“Yes, is something wrong?”

Sharp-eyed Lu Zhao sensed Ling Cang wasn’t just anxious about this—she was hiding something.

“I… I can’t say.”

Feeling guilty for keeping secrets from friends, Ling Cang’s eyes reddened, on the verge of tears.

Lu Zhao hadn’t expected his question to hit so hard. Yan Qingxin, equally confused, gently hugged her, comforting her.

“It’s okay, don’t say if you don’t want to. Pretend we didn’t ask, alright?”

“Mm…” Ling Cang sniffled.

Yan Qingxin smiled at her face. “Look at you, still such a crybaby. Come on, let’s fix your makeup in the bathroom—it’s smudged.”

“Baby, wait here. I’ll be right back.”

She led Ling Cang away, leaving Lu Zhao dumbfounded.

What just happened? I don’t get it.

He knew she was soft, but not that soft—crumbling at a touch.

Scanning the venue, Lu Zhao realized he was the only man there. Talk about a spider’s den.

But it made sense. Men were rare in this world, and those at this level of event were even rarer.

Without Yan Qingxin, he wouldn’t be here.

He found a corner to blend in, though it was pointless—everyone knew he was Yan Qingxin’s boyfriend.

No one would risk Yan Ruyue’s wrath just to flirt.

Noticing Lu Zhao alone, Yan Ruyue’s gaze flickered to him several times, but with so many eyes on her, she couldn’t approach.

With her daughter gone, what would it look like for the mother-in-law to check on her son-in-law in public?

She minded her status, but someone else didn’t—and enjoyed seeing her squirm.

“All alone? Where are Qingxin and Ling Cang?”

Lu Zhao turned to see Ling Chenxi, smiling at him with a glass of wine.

As the saying goes, you don’t hit a smiling face, especially not a gentle, beautiful woman’s.

Ling Chenxi’s first impression was pleasant—warm and approachable.

It was his first time meeting a woman with such a demeanor, with a hint of coyness, but no matter—tea’s healthy.

“Qingxin took Ling Cang to the bathroom, uh… Auntie Ling. Can I call you that?”

Ling Chenxi’s eyes sparkled, her lips curving. “Of course, you’re Qingxin’s boyfriend, so you should call me Auntie Ling, but…”

She licked her lipstick, her peach-blossom eyes locking onto his. “If you called me Sister Ling, I’d be even happier.”

They say peach-blossom eyes make anyone feel adored, and Lu Zhao felt it—his heart raced involuntarily.

His mind raced too. She wouldn’t try to steal me just to spite Yan Ruyue, would she? But shouldn’t it be her daughter making a move?

His expression stayed neutral, his tone hesitant. “That wouldn’t do. Wouldn’t that mess up the hierarchy?”

“No big deal. I don’t mind. Or how about calling me Sister Ling when it’s just us?”

Ling Chenxi stepped closer, barely a fist’s distance away. He could feel her warmth and the subtle elegance of her perfume.

Lu Zhao instinctively stepped back, forgetting he was already against the wall.

As he turned, her hand reached toward his cheek.

“Sister L—uh, Auntie Ling, this… this isn’t right, is it?”

Just as her fingers neared, a hand shot out, gripping her wrist tightly.

A sharp crack—the jade bracelet on Ling Chenxi’s wrist shattered.

The fragments cut her wrist and the hand gripping her.

Blood dripped, splattering her white heels, like vivid red plum blossoms blooming on pristine snow—striking, jarring.