Zhuo Xuan forced herself to stay composed, quickening her steps toward Yu Jinwen. "Jin-ge," she whispered, "I'm scared. Is someone playing a prank on us?"
"Don't be afraid," Yu Jinwen reassured her. "I'm here."
Nodding sweetly, Zhuo Xuan took the microphone from the emcee, reclaiming the spotlight. "Today is the happiest day of my life. The most beautiful love is when the person you love loves you back. Jin-ge and I were each other's first love. Though life took us on different paths, and many *passersby* came between us, we still found our way back to each other. Fate always has its plans..."
Nan Song crushed the chips in her hand to dust. *Passersby?!* Who did this woman think she was?
"...So, Jin-ge, I've prepared a surprise for you too."
With a playful wink, she took charge as her own emcee. "Everyone, please direct your attention to the screen!"
The guests turned as one—and the moment the screen lit up, the room erupted in gasps and murmurs.
Zhuo Xuan, still facing the audience with a blissful smile, continued, "This video chronicles our love story, from the moment we met to—"
But no one was listening. Instead, stifled laughter and hushed whispers spread like wildfire. People pointed, smirking as if watching a comedy skit.
Even Zhuo Xuan couldn't ignore the odd reactions. The air around her turned icy.
"Is *this* the surprise you meant?" Yu Jinwen's voice was dangerously quiet.
Confused, she turned—only to find his face frozen in a mask of cold fury, his gaze fixed on the screen like a storm about to break.
*What's happening?*
Heart pounding, she spun toward the screen—and let out a shriek.
Instead of her carefully edited love story, the screen displayed a slideshow of *her*—dozens of photos flashing one after another.
Zhuo Xuan swayed on her feet, blood draining from her face. *How... How could these pictures be here?!*
---
On the sofa, Nan Song watched the screen impassively. The photos weren't explicit—no scandalous "gate" here—but they painted a clear picture: Zhuo Xuan wrapped around different men, laughing, kissing, clinging.
European, Asian, African—every type, every setting. The same woman, the same coy smile, just different arms holding her.
Nan Song had seen these in the dossier long ago. She knew exactly what Zhuo Xuan had been up to overseas. It didn't shock her.
But Yu Jinwen? His pure, untouchable white moonlight had just been exposed as... well, *available to all*.
*That* was a blow.
"So *this* was your grand plan?" Nan Song arched a brow at Bai Luyu. "You don't know Yu Jinwen. He's traditional, but not *that* conservative. For the woman he loves, he might overlook it."
Bai Luyu shook his head. "You don't know men. No man wants a woman with *no* standards. Who'd willingly wear a neon 'cuckold' sign?"
He nudged her. "This is just the opening act. The real drama's coming."