The Wei ancestral house sat like a crown in the hills of the city—grand, cold, and built to intimidate. Its towering gates opened only on rare, important occasions, and New Year's Eve was one of them.
Inside, the staff moved like clockwork—polishing silver, laying out porcelain dishes with dragon patterns, lighting lanterns that glowed like crimson moons.
Everything shimmered in tradition and power.
But beneath the surface, tension simmered.
Because tonight… Yulia Dragina was coming.
And not just her—her daughter, too.
In the side hall, Wei Wanwan stood in front of the mirror, lips painted a delicate pink, lashes fluttering like innocence. But her eyes were sharp with malice.
She adjusted the pin on her cheongsam, a vintage design in imperial jade silk, then turned to her mother, who was watching her from the chaise lounge.
"She's definitely coming," Wanwan muttered. "Yulia wouldn't dare miss the ancestral dinner. It's her chance to solidify her position."
Zhao Wenqing smirked. "And you're ready?"
"Oh, I'm more than ready."
Everything had been going too smoothly lately. After Yulia's suggestion helped the company recover from the scandal, even Grandmother Wei had started tolerating her.
Tolerating! After marrying a foreign, scandal-ridden model with two invisible daughters!
Wanwan seethed silently.
"She acts like she's untouchable. Like her daughter is some foreign jewel just because she's half-blooded and rude."
Wenqing sipped her tea. "And her other daughter?"
"Still no sign of her," Wanwan murmured, eyes narrowing. "Which means tonight… all eyes will be on that red-haired brat."
She looked at her reflection again and smiled.
"Perfect."
Wanwan had prepared everything—from the seating arrangement, to the wine, to the subtle gossip she had spread among certain relatives. A whisper here, a mocking compliment there. Her aunties were already curious. The uncles would be watching.
She didn't have dirt yet… but she didn't need it.
Tonight, she would create the first crack.
In another part of the house, the servants whispered as they prepared the guest rooms.
"They say Yulia used to dance on tables," one maid muttered.
"And her daughter?" another added, wide-eyed. "Apparently she once stole a bracelet from a noble girl."
They all giggled nervously.