The clink of glasses, soft jazz humming in the background, and the delicate scent of white orchids filled the air of the 'Artisan Lounge', a luxurious but tucked-away private event space nestled in the quiet hills of Country C's embassy district. Under the soft lighting of antique chandeliers and shadowy corners of velvet seating, the city's elite began to trickle in—some curious, some skeptical, and others, frankly, amused.
At the center of it all stood Lu Jingyan, calm and radiant in a sharp ivory pantsuit that contrasted her past image of ball gowns and camera flashes. Her sleek black hair was pulled into a knot, no extravagant jewels, just a thin pair of diamond earrings that whispered confidence rather than screamed for attention.
"She really invited us to a party like nothing ever happened," one woman whispered to her friend behind a crystal flute of champagne.
"That's Lu Jingyan for you," another socialite snickered. "Country F's fallen princess now playing businesswoman in Country C. What's next? A fashion comeback with flea-market sponsors?"
The laughter wasn't loud—but loud enough. Jingyan heard. She always did.
But instead of reacting, she turned, raised her glass lightly toward them, and smiled a slow, deliberate smile that didn't beg for approval. It warned of something in motion.
Beside her stood Mo Tianyi, quiet and watchful in a charcoal suit, and Hua Shu, her eyes scanning the guests while keeping a step behind her.
"Mockery is fuel," Tianyi murmured. "Burn it wisely."
"I intend to," Jingyan replied softly, not losing her smile as more guests arrived.
Among the crowd were retired politicians, minor celebrities, a few young entrepreneurs with inherited fortunes, and an international brand manager or two curious about the whispers of her comeback. All of them had seen her fall from grace. Some rejoiced in it. Others watched to see if there was still magic in the name Lu.
A man in his early forties approached with a smirk. He was from a retail chain that once courted the Lu family for partnership.
"Ms. Lu," he drawled. "I must say, brave of you to host a party after… everything. Is this a farewell tour or a soft launch for a fantasy comeback?"
Before Hua Shu could intercept, Jingyan stepped forward.
"I thought it was time to clean the air, Mr. Sun," she said calmly. "You know how smoke lingers in circles that think they're fire."
He blinked, not quite catching the burn beneath her words. "Still playing with riddles, I see."
"No," she smiled. "I'm rebuilding legacies. But I understand if that's hard to recognize from where you're standing."
Across the room, Mei Xiaotong entered in a stunning midnight-blue dress. Once seen as Jingyan's shadow, now she walked proudly toward her.
"Now that's loyalty," a young heiress muttered. "Or foolishness."
"Depends on what side of history you want to be on," Jingyan said under her breath as Xiaotong embraced her.
Then came the first turning point—*a fashion influencer* posted a video snippet of the party, with a casual caption:
( "Guess who's back? Lu Jingyan hosting an intimate soirée with a guest list sharper than a scalpel.")
Within twenty minutes, three more posts followed. The buzz shifted. Eyes turned from mockery to intrigue.
Jingyan noticed it all but didn't let it show. She stood tall, offering polite greetings, speaking to the right ears, listening when needed, correcting assumptions without defensiveness. It wasn't a grand gesture that reclaimed the room. It was the fact she hadn't cowered. That she dared to stand here.
By the end of the evening, the tone had changed.
"She might actually pull it off," someone whispered.
"Or burn everything down again," another added.
But Lu Jingyan, holding her own glass now half-full, stood at the edge of the balcony, wind lifting a strand of hair.
"This is only the beginning," she said, mostly to herself.
And this time… no one dared laugh.