The Zhonghai Exhibition Center was built in the early Republic era and was originally named the "Republic Friendship Building." It remains one of Zhonghai's landmark structures.
The main hall used for the Song Family's eldest grandson's wedding was massive—over a thousand square meters—capable of accommodating more than a thousand guests for dining and festivities.
Yang Zhen'er and Zhao Manzhi stood toward the rear of the hall, near the main entrance.
The commotion didn't go unnoticed. It wasn't overwhelming, but it was enough to draw attention…
Centered on Yang Zhen'er and Zhao Manzhi, gazes filled with faint amusement began gathering from all directions. So long as it didn't involve them, the people around were more than happy to watch.
Though dressed in upper-class polish, many of them beneath that surface were far from noble.
They quickly recognized Zhao Manzhi's identity, and their smirks only deepened.
At this event, Zhao Manzhi's social rank wasn't particularly high—she barely counted as mid-tier among the crowd.
Realizing this, many onlookers shifted their attention from Zhao Manzhi to the pitiful young woman across from her. After a quick scan, they too came to the same conclusion:
Whoever this girl was, she clearly didn't come from any well-known elite family.
In circles like these, trained eyes mattered. A glance—just a few seconds of observing someone's attire, speech, and temperament—was enough for most to decide how to treat them.
One by one, cold and radiant smiles bloomed across the faces of the crowd…
She had no status? That made it all the more entertaining.
Where all the eyes gathered, Yang Zhen'er stood with her hair disheveled, dark red wine dripping from the ends. Crimson streaks trailed down her fair skin…
Her body turned cold. She didn't know what to do.
She felt all those eyes on her. And those gazes—terrified her.
It was as if a beautiful dream had been torn apart, and behind the glamor was a scene soaked in blood.
This was high society…
A place where class divides were carved in stone—everyone standing high above, yet cold as ice.
"Do you feel it now?"
"So don't blame me…"
"This world… is just like this."
Zhao Manzhi stood before Yang Zhen'er. She reached out and gently stroked Yang Zhen'er's smooth skin, her expression tinged with arrogance. She whispered:
"You see? If I don't hit you today, by tomorrow they'll be saying Zhao Manzhi is someone who can be bullied."
With that, her face grew cold, and she raised her hand—ready to slap her.
Around them, the onlookers smiled wider, as if they were all waiting for that crisp smack.
…
But before the slap could land,
The sound of steady footsteps echoed through the hall.
The crowd turned toward the source.
A young man, hands in his pockets, with an indifferent expression, approached step by step.
Yang Zhen'er saw him, her eyes lit up with joy. Her courage returned slightly, and just as the slap was about to fall, she turned her face to the side.
The young man reached her side. His gaze fell across her hair, her figure.
He pulled a tissue from his pocket and handed it to Yang Zhen'er.
Then he raised his eyes and looked directly at Zhao Manzhi.
…
"Mr. Lu, please forgive us for this offense."
"This was a failure on our Song Family's part."
Before the young man could say a word, a low and raspy voice echoed from the entrance.
From the side of the doorway, Song Family patriarch Zheng Yaoru appeared, pushing his father forward in a wheelchair. Together, they slowly made their way in.
It was the Old Master of the Song Family, Song Shixiong, who had spoken.
At their appearance, the main hall fell into an immediate hush. Around the room, several black-clad security guards began closing in.
Zheng Yaoru pushed his father to the front, stopping before Lu Li.
Seeing the Song father and son arrive and hearing the words from Old Master Song's mouth,
Zhao Manzhi's face turned pale. Her breathing quickened. Her body trembled.
"Slap yourself. Apologize to Mr. Lu."
Song Shixiong's cloudy eyes swept across Zhao Manzhi as he spoke in a calm but heavy tone.
As his words fell, a member of security stepped forward...
Smack!
But to everyone's surprise, Zhao Manzhi raised her own hand and slapped herself first. The sound rang out crisply.
A bright red handprint appeared on her cheek.
"Not enough."
Song Shixiong lifted his hand slightly to stop the approaching guard. He lowered his gaze and spoke again.
Smack!
Smack!
Smack!
Zhao Manzhi was a ruthless woman—without hesitation, she delivered more slaps to herself.
Her face quickly swelled red. After a dozen or so strikes, her hair a mess, her face bruised and blotched, blood seeping from her lip…
Only when Song Shixiong saw Lu Li nod slightly did he finally allow her to stop.
At that moment, Lu Li moved.
He looked around, then walked toward a table. Picking up a glass of red wine, he returned…
He stopped in front of Zhao Manzhi.
Without any hint of emotion in his eyes, he reached out—and splashed the wine directly onto her face.
"Today is the wedding of the Song Family's eldest grandson. For the Song Family's sake, this is where I let it go."
Lu Li's voice was calm and measured.
The entire hall fell into a deathly silence.
"Old Master Song, given all this, I'll take my leave now."
Lu Li wiped his hand clean, slowly set the wine glass down, and turned to Song Shixiong and Zheng Yaoru, speaking coolly.
With that, he took Yang Zhen'er's hand…
And strolled out of the main hall.
This book is provided by FunNovel Novel Book | Fan Fiction Novel [Beautiful Free Novel Book]