In the soft glow of the dressing room mirror, Feng Qian admired herself in a delicate jade-green gown. She twirled slowly, letting the silk flutter like petals.
"Do I look… captivating?" she asked, her voice gentle as water.
From the plush armchair behind her, Madam Lin sipped her wine.
"You look harmless," she said dryly. "Which is exactly what we want."
Feng Qian pouted slightly. "But she'll be there too. Xiao Xiao. And she'll try to outshine me again. She thinks she's so clever just because she embarrassed us at the family banquet."
Madam Lin's eyes gleamed like polished glass.
"And that's exactly why the Jiang gala is perfect. High society loves drama, but only when it's clean. One whisper in the right ear… one picture out of context… and Xiao Xiao will become what they fear most—uncontrolled, dangerous, unstable."
Feng Qian sat down beside her, lowering her voice.
"You think they'll help us?"
"Jiang Meiling doesn't help," Madam Lin replied. "But she loves watching people fall. And if Xiao Xiao makes one mistake, Meiling will make sure no one ever dares associate with her again."
They shared a long, satisfied silence.
Then Madam Lin added, "The tailor we hired made adjustments to her gown delivery."
Feng Qian's eyes widened. "She's wearing the white satin?"
"Yes. With the modified zip and the delicate stitching around the hemline. One step out of place... and the whole thing will—"
"Tear," Feng Qian finished with a gleam in her eye. "Like her reputation."
But what they didn't know was: this Xiao Xiao wasn't the same foolish girl they once deceived.
She had already checked the gown.
And replaced it with one she designed herself.
Let the trap come. She'd walk through it in stilettos and burn it to the ground.