Ignoring the venomous whispers that followed her, Rong Jin simply pursed her lips and picked up a flute of champagne from a nearby table. She knew Song Shi had orchestrated everything. The news spreading like wildfire online—that too had the fingerprints of his people all over it, fanning the flames. By now, everyone in Jingshi must have heard of her glorious exploits. But she was just one person, and no amount of denial would convince them. Better to pretend she heard nothing. Rong Jin took a few sips of champagne, her eyes surveying the room. The gala was grand, drawing nearly all of Jingshi's high society. She was just glad *he* needed her. It meant she still had value, a bargaining chip. She just didn't know what Mr. Fu wanted her help with… Rong Jin had tried to fade into a corner after arriving, but men kept approaching, their eyes raking over her shamelessly. One even had the nerve to offer to keep her. This only earned her more disgusted looks from the other women. One of the wives, having seen enough, snatched a glass of red wine and threw it in Rong Jin’s face. “You’re disgusting. Get out of here!” The cold wine stung Rong Jin’s eyes, forcing them shut. All her life, as the cherished heiress of the Rong family, she had been adored and flattered. This was the first time she had ever been so publicly humiliated at a party. But she had no family name now, no title, and no one left to protect her… Rong Jin merely glanced at the woman, not bothering to retaliate. She turned to grab a napkin from the table, only to see Song Shi approaching with Ning Yun on his arm. In his black tuxedo, Song Shi cut a tall, elegant figure, his polite smile the very picture of a polished villain. “Mrs. Xu.” Ning Yun, a veteran of these events, recognized the woman instantly and moved to greet her. “Those pearl earrings are absolutely stunning on you.” Noticing Mrs. Xu’s foul mood, Ning Yun asked, “What’s wrong?” “I just had the misfortune of running into someone utterly distasteful!” Mrs. Xu shot a glare at Rong Jin, who was still dripping with wine. “She’s dragged the Rong family name through the mud. I have no idea how she even got in here!” Ning Yun followed her gaze and saw a woman with drenched hair—it was unmistakably Rong Jin. The memory of Rong Jin slapping her in the mall made Ning Yun’s own cheeks sting, and she shot Rong Jin a look of pure hatred. Then she noticed the gown Rong Jin was wearing. It looked… significant. A wave of jealousy washed over her. Ning Yun stepped forward, her eyes critically scanning Rong Jin. “If I’m not mistaken, that’s a runway piece from HMS. Not even celebrities can get their hands on one. How did *you* manage it?” She paused, then deliberately raised her voice. “Your chauffeur boyfriend certainly couldn’t afford this for you, could he?” At Ning Yun's words, the contempt in the surrounding women's eyes deepened. Mrs. Xu scoffed. “She probably tricked some other man into buying it! Seems she went to a lot of trouble to crash this party.” “And to think she was the great Miss Rong. What a disgrace to her father!” “Oh, that poor Mr. Song! He thought he was marrying a wonderful wife, and he ended up with… this!” Rong Jin ignored them, blotting the wine from her face and dress with a napkin. As she turned to leave, a tall figure blocked her path. “This is an exclusive event,” Song Shi said, his voice flat. “How did you get in?” “None of your business,” Rong Jin replied, her tone cold. He took in her disheveled state—her damp hair clinging to the pale skin of her shoulders. She looked fragile, stripped of the bold, radiant confidence she once wore. A flicker of satisfaction shot through him, mingled with some other, more complicated emotion. Rong Jin felt as though her wrist would snap. She glared up at him, her voice laced with hatred. “Song Shi, this is a gala. We’re divorced. Are you going to assault me in public?” “I don’t want uninvited guests at this event.” Song Shi gestured for a waiter, clearly intending to have her thrown out. Beside him, Ning Yun murmured, “Shi…” One wounded look from her was all it took. Song Shi’s grip on Rong Jin’s wrist tightened. “Yun told me you ran into her at the mall this morning. And that you hit her. You will apologize for every single slap. If you don’t, I’ll let Yun return the favor right here.” Rong Jin could feel the predatory gaze of the crowd. Her body trembled, her face ghostly pale under the chandelier lights. A year ago, in this very ballroom, she had married Song Shi. A year later, in the same room, before the same crowd, he was humiliating her alongside his mistress. “She insulted my dead parents first. Why should I apologize to *her*?” Rong Jin bit her tongue to stay sharp, then let out a cold laugh. “You two are a perfect match—the bitch and the bastard. May you have a long life together.” Song Shi’s eyes darkened. He slapped her across the face. Rong Jin didn’t have time to shield herself. The blow sent her stumbling back, and just as she was about to fall, a hand shot out to steady her waist. A cool, indifferent voice sounded from above her. “Mr. Song, what do you think you’re doing to my companion?”