The tip of the pen met the paper with a soft, final scratch. Su Luo’s signature was fluid, elegant, and utterly devoid of the hesitation Fu Jinyan had expected. She didn’t cry. She didn’t beg. She simply pushed the divorce agreement back across the cold marble table. Her eyes, no longer vacant but gleaming with a crystalline sharpness, met his. “It’s done, Fu Jinyan. As of this moment, we are nothing to each other.” Fu Jinyan’s jaw tightened. He felt a flicker of something unsettling—surprise? Confusion? He’d anticipated a storm of tears, a pathetic scene of pleading. This cold composure was foreign, unnerving. He dismissed it as a final, desperate act of pride. “Good. Pack your things. I’ll have my assistant send you the compensation. You can leave the key on the counter.” He turned his back on her, pulling out his phone, his voice instantly softening. “Yao Yao, I’m done. The divorce is signed... Yes, I’ll be right there.” Su Luo watched him leave without a word, a chilling smile playing on her lips. Compensation? He thought money could settle the debt of three years of humiliation? He had no idea what was coming. Her phone buzzed an hour later. The caller ID read ‘Yao Yao.’ Su Luo’s expression turned to ice as she answered, her voice reverting to its old, fragile whisper. “Hello?” “Luo Luo! Oh, I’m so glad I reached you!” Lin Yao’s voice was sickly sweet, dripping with fake concern. “I know things must be hard right now, but Jinyan and I are at the Starlight Gala tonight. It’s a celebration of my recovery! We both want you to be here. Please? We want to part on good terms, for old times’ sake.” For old times’ sake. Su Luo nearly laughed. A celebration? More like a public execution. They wanted to parade their victory in front of the city’s elite, using her as the final stepping stone. “I... I don’t know if I should,” Su Luo murmured, playing her part. “You must! Jinyan insisted. He feels so guilty, Luo Luo. He wants to make sure you’re okay. I’ll send a car for you right away. Don’t say no!” The line went dead before Su Luo could refuse. She stared at the phone, the fragile facade melting from her face, replaced by a predatory glint. “You want me there, Lin Yao? Fine. I’ll give you a celebration you’ll never forget.” She walked to the closet, past the drab, shapeless clothes Fu Jinyan preferred her to wear, and reached for a simple, elegant white dress she had bought long ago. It was understated, but on her newly confident frame, it was breathtaking. She applied no makeup, letting the cold fire in her eyes be her only adornment. When the car arrived, she stepped into the Starlight Gala with the practiced, hesitant steps of a blind woman, her head slightly bowed. The grand ballroom was a galaxy of glittering chandeliers and shimmering gowns. Heads turned as she entered, whispers erupting like wildfire. “Is that... Fu Jinyan’s blind wife?” “I thought he divorced her! What is she doing here?” “Look at her dress. So plain. She doesn’t belong here.” Su Luo ignored them, her senses, sharpened by three years of feigned blindness, mapping out the entire room. She located Lin Yao instantly, holding court in the center of the room, clinging to Fu Jinyan’s arm like a triumphant viper. Lin Yao wore a dazzling red gown, her smile wide and victorious as she saw Su Luo approach. “Luo Luo! You came!” Lin Yao glided over, her eyes filled with mock sympathy. “I’m so happy to see you. Let me get you a drink.” Before Su Luo could reply, a waiter, his eyes darting nervously towards Lin Yao, stumbled directly into her path. A full glass of dark red wine arched through the air, splashing all over the front of Su Luo’s pristine white dress. The stain was a violent, ugly slash of crimson. A collective gasp filled the ballroom. “Oh my God!” Lin Yao shrieked, covering her mouth in performative horror. “Luo Luo! Are you alright? This is terrible! You poor thing, you couldn’t even see him coming!” Her words were a dagger, twisting the knife of Su Luo’s “disability.” The waiter immediately fell to his knees, babbling apologies, but his eyes were fixed on Lin Yao. Fu Jinyan watched the scene from a distance, his face a mask of cold indifference. He saw the spilled wine, the stained dress, the humiliation radiating from his ex-wife. He did nothing. He didn’t move a single step towards her. Lin Yao’s friends, a pack of well-dressed hyenas, circled in. “What is a blind beggar doing at a place like this anyway?” one sneered. “She probably did it on purpose for attention.” “Look at her, drenched in wine. How utterly pathetic. Fu Jinyan must be so relieved to be free,” another added, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. Su Luo stood perfectly still amidst the storm of insults, the wine dripping from her dress onto the polished floor. She slowly lifted her head, and for the first time that night, her gaze was no longer downcast. It was a laser, cutting through the crowd and locking directly onto Fu Jinyan. He finally moved, but not to her. He walked straight to Lin Yao, placing a protective arm around her trembling shoulders. “What happened?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous, his eyes never once showing a shred of concern for Su Luo. Lin Yao buried her face in his chest. “Jinyan, it was an accident, but... but she caused such a scene. It startled me. My heart... it’s still so weak.” Fu Jinyan’s face hardened. He turned his cold, accusatory glare on Su Luo. The entire ballroom held its breath. “You’ve embarrassed me enough for one lifetime,” he said, his voice dripping with contempt. “You made a mess and frightened Yao Yao. Apologize to her. Now.” The command hung in the air, thick and suffocating. Apologize. He wanted her, the victim, to apologize to her tormentor. Su Luo didn't flinch. A slow, chilling smile spread across her face, a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Those eyes were glacial, burning with a light he had never seen before. “Apologize?” she repeated, her voice soft but carrying across the silent room. She took a step forward, the squelch of her wine-soaked dress the only sound. “I said, apologize!” Fu Jinyan’s voice rose, laced with fury at her defiance. Su Luo ignored him. She pulled a sleek, black phone from her small clutch—a model far too advanced and expensive for the penniless orphan he thought she was. Her fingers moved deftly across the screen. She put the phone to her ear, her gaze never leaving Fu Jinyan’s furious face. “Uncle Chen,” she said, her voice now transformed. It was no longer fragile or soft. It was the voice of absolute power, cold and commanding. “The Fu Corporation is no longer worthy of our support. Begin the acquisition. I want them bankrupt by sunrise.”

Chapter 2: The Humiliation Banquet