The ballroom's atmosphere shifted again as another figure approached the table—this time with the kind of calm gravitas that made people stand a little straighter without realizing it.
Mr. Shen.
Shen Rui's father.
The ever-composed, sharp-eyed patriarch of the Shen family moved with measured grace, his tailored suit crisp and unassuming in the way only old money could afford. He had spent years building his empire with silence and steel. Now, he ruled it from the shadows of polite smiles and carefully timed nods.
When he reached the main table and saw Lin Xie seated beside his son, his brows lifted faintly—then smoothed out as if he'd known all along.
"Father," Shen Rui greeted, inclining his head.
"Rui," Mr. Shen returned with a nod, his eyes drifting—intentionally slow—to the girl at his son's side.
Lin Xie stood immediately, calculating politeness. "Good evening."
Mr. Shen studied her for exactly one heartbeat longer than what was socially comfortable.
Then: "You must be Lin Xie."
"I am."
A slow smile touched his face. "You've caused quite the stir tonight."
Lin Xie considered this. "Not intentionally."
That earned her a rare, soft chuckle from him. "All the better."
He didn't ask questions. Didn't press. Just gave a subtle nod—approval, or at least acceptance—and then turned to greet his wife and daughter with a quiet, familiar warmth. A kind of domestic rhythm settled at the table… until the next wave of guests arrived.
Shen Rui didn't stay seated long.
Businessmen were already approaching—some eager, some cautious, some opportunistic. He rose smoothly to his feet, nodding to a trio of high-ranking board members from the capital's largest tech conglomerate. Lin Xie stood too, instantly falling into step beside him.
She didn't ask.
She didn't hesitate.
She simply followed—like she always did. A silent shadow with stiletto heels that could kill if she angled them right.
Wherever Shen Rui went, she mirrored.
She said nothing during his conversations, simply stood there like a beautifully dressed enigma. And that unsettled people. Because even as Shen Rui discussed quarterly partnerships, spoke fluent finance and legal lingo, their eyes would flick—not to his words, but to the girl beside him who watched everything like a sniper in satin.
Back at the table, Shen Yan couldn't stop smiling.
"She's following him again," she whispered, giddy.
"Look at the way she walks behind him," Madam Shen added with delight. "Like she'll murder anyone who breathes on him."
"I love her."
"She hasn't said more than four words to me, and I'm ready to hand over the family estate."
"I already put her on the inheritance list."
Mr. Shen cleared his throat once.
Both women straightened a little.
But their eyes never left Lin Xie.
Not even when the six heiresses arrived.
Ah, yes. The capital's finest.
One by one, the girls arrived with their families. Hair in sleek waves, lips painted crimson, smiles manufactured by experience and etiquette. Daughters of elite business clans—each groomed to be the perfect wife for someone powerful.
Heiress One: Lian Mei. Age: 26. Daughter of the CEO of LianTech Pharmaceuticals. MBA from Stanford. Speaks six languages. Politely fake.
Heiress Two: Wen Yuyan. Age: 24. Daughter of a media mogul. Socialite with 1.8M followers on CharmNet. Realized she wasn't the main character the moment Lin Xie walked in.
Heiress Three: Zhang Min. Age: 25. Known for her family's AI robotics company. Wears custom-designed gowns from Paris. Once dated a prince. Briefly.
Heiress Four: Xu Qian. Age: 23. Daughter of a shipping magnate. Pretty, charming, dangerous. Possibly owns a dagger in her clutch.
Heiress Five: Han Zhi. Age: 22. Fresh law graduate. Known for poise, scandal-free record, and an eerily perfect smile.
Heiress Six: Yue Qing. Age: 21. Youngest and arguably the most aggressive. Daughter of a political family. Already calculating backup options.
They entered together, like synchronized dolls.
And immediately saw her.
Her.
The girl with the flawless skin, the haunting gaze, and the quiet power.
Lin Xie.
Sitting beside Shen Rui.
Walking beside him.
Breathing the air that was supposed to belong to them.
Their smiles never faltered.
But behind each one, a different thought bloomed like poison:
> "Who is she?"
> "Where did he find her?"
> "Why her?"
> "She's not even talking."
> "I bet she doesn't know how to host a tea ceremony."
> "She's probably temporary. He'll come back around."
> "Unless she's already pregnant."
And just like that—
The banquet had transformed into something far more delicious than anyone anticipated.
Jealousy sharpened like stilettos under floor-length gowns.
Schemes bloomed like toxic flowers under designer perfumes.
But Lin Xie—
Didn't notice.
Didn't care.
She simply stood beside Shen Rui while he destroyed a CEO's argument with a calm smile and a firm handshake. Her hands were folded in front of her. Her eyes never wavered.
To those six heiresses, she was untouchable.
To his family, she was perfection.
To Shen Rui—
She was becoming the most unexpected variable in a life that had been perfectly controlled.
And the night was only beginning.
---
The six heiresses weren't just used to being ignored—they were experts at it. At least, they thought they were.
Shen Rui had always been cold, distant, and intimidating. He was the kind of man who barely acknowledged their existence, making them feel like nothing more than elegant wallpaper in the vast ballroom of his life. Their degrees, their pedigrees, their carefully crafted smiles—they were invisible to him. But tonight, the cold shoulder had turned into a full-on disregard that was more infuriating than anything they'd experienced before.
He didn't just ignore them. He actively shut them out.
And worse—he did it while having someone else by his side.
Someone who wasn't trying to impress.
Someone who followed him like a shadow, quiet and unblinking.
Lin Xie.
The six heiresses watched, frustrated, as Shen Rui navigated the room without so much as a glance their way. No smiles. No forced conversations. No fake interest.
When Lian Mei swayed her hips provocatively in front of him, he didn't even blink.
When Wen Yuyan "accidentally" spilled champagne near his sleeve and leaned in with a syrupy apology, he didn't flinch.
When Yue Qing reached out to touch his arm, pouting like a spoiled cat, he stepped aside as effortlessly as dodging a pothole—without even looking.
Like they were all just scenery.
The audacity of it all made them furious.
Because Shen Rui wasn't just ignoring them. He was protecting Lin Xie with ruthless, calculated detachment.
Lin Xie didn't act like the typical girlfriend—they couldn't figure out if she was unaware of the game or simply didn't care to play. She wasn't posturing, smiling, or talking up a storm to outshine the room. Instead, she observed the six heiresses with the clinical curiosity of a scientist studying insects under a microscope—calm, neutral, unbothered.
It drove the heiresses crazy.
So, they tried to corner them.
Lian Mei led the charge, wearing a smile that was as sweet as it was venomous. "Mr. Shen, what a surprise to see you here tonight. And… your companion. You've never introduced us."
Shen Rui didn't stop walking. His voice was low and flat. "She doesn't need introductions."
Zhang Min hurried to keep pace. "Still, we're curious. She's… lovely. So composed. We'd love to get to know her."
They circled Lin Xie like wolves in high heels.
"Oh, by the way, I didn't catch your surname," Xu Qian said with a fake innocence that barely hid the challenge.
Lin Xie blinked once. "Because I didn't give it."
An awkward laugh rippled through the group.
Yue Qing leaned in, voice smooth as silk. "So what's your background? We're all just wondering. Where you studied. Your family's history."
Lin Xie's eyes sharpened slightly. "I'm an orphan."
The room fell dead silent.
No one dared breathe.
Then she added, voice calm and clinical as if reading a report, "Family deceased. No records. No inheritance. No attachments."
Han Zhi coughed lightly, breaking the silence. "Oh… that's so… brave of you."
Lin Xie's tone was dry. "I didn't choose it. But thank you for the adjective."
Shen Rui glanced up from his phone, his expression unreadable, but his eyes gleamed with sharp amusement.
Lian Mei, refusing to be outdone, pressed on. "So… you've never studied abroad?"
Lin Xie's answer was simple. "I didn't need to."
Wen Yuyan, her voice sugary but edged with venom, countered, "Oh? But surely Mandarin isn't enough these days, especially to support someone like Rui in business."
Lin Xie shrugged. "I speak fourteen languages."
That stopped the heiresses cold.
Xu Qian squinted, incredulous. "Including ancient Greek?"
"Yes. And the corrupted northern dialect of 14th-century Pashto, if that's relevant to your fashion degree."
Gasps broke from the crowd. Someone choked on a canapé. Han Zhi stared as if Lin Xie was some kind of alien.
"Are you joking?" she asked, disbelief coloring her voice.
Lin Xie's gaze was unwavering. "Why would I joke about grammar?"
That was the last straw.
The crowd was captivated, drawn to the social carnage unfolding with surgical precision. Lin Xie wasn't smug or irritated—just observing, as if this was a lab experiment she'd been forced to supervise.
From a short distance, Shen Rui watched but said nothing.
Then, emboldened by desperation, Wen Yuyan tried again. "Still, it must be hard… coming from nothing. I imagine you feel a bit out of place."
"I don't," Lin Xie said plainly. "But you clearly do."
The heiresses froze.
Lin Xie's voice dropped, conversational but cutting. "You've all studied etiquette, haven't you? The art of indirect speech? You should practice more. Subtlety might serve you better next time."
Suddenly, Shen Rui's voice cut through the room, cold and razor sharp. Several heiresses jumped.
"There won't be a next time."
They turned, startled.
He stepped forward, voice dropping lower, cold enough to freeze the air. "If you touch her again, I won't be polite. If you insult her again, I won't be diplomatic."
The air thickened with tension.
"Do you understand?" His gaze sliced through them like a blade.
"…Yes, Mr. Shen."
"Good."
He looked down at Lin Xie and said simply, "Come."
Without hesitation, she fell back into step beside him.
The stunned crowd watched as they left—the silence after their departure louder than any whispered insult.
Back at the family table, Shen Yan fanned herself theatrically. "I love her."
Madam Shen nodded slowly, a rare smile tugging her lips. "I'd let her run the company now. Forget grandchildren. She can have my entire jewelry vault."
Mr. Shen sipped his wine calmly, amusement flickering in his eyes.
The six heiresses retreated, their pride bleeding away with every silent step.
And Lin Xie?
Still expressionless.
But beneath her icy calm, she was filing every face, every word, every attempted slight into a mental dossier.
Because while the mission might be fake, her instinct to eliminate threats wasn't.
Not even from those wrapped in couture.
Meanwhile, Shen Rui never once glanced their way before. Not once.
His ruthless indifference was his weapon—and tonight, it cut deeper than any confrontation.
He didn't care about their schemes or their titles.
He cared only for the woman at his side.
And no one—not six heiresses, not an entire city—could change that.
The six heiresses retreated a few steps, their perfectly polished smiles faltering under Shen Rui's icy warning. The air around them grew thick with frustration and disbelief, the elegant façade of calm cracking rapidly.
Lian Mei was the first to break the silence, voice sharp and breathless. "Can you believe that? Ignoring us like we're invisible! Like we don't even exist!"
Wen Yuyan's fingers trembled slightly as she wiped off a nonexistent speck of dust from her designer clutch. "He didn't even look at us once! And that Lin Xie… she just stood there like a statue. So smug. So untouchable."
Zhang Min, trying to regain composure, adjusted her custom Parisian gown with an exaggerated flick of her wrist. "That girl's got no pedigree, no family, no connections… how did she worm her way in? It's humiliating."
Xu Qian hissed under her breath, her eyes narrowing. "And she has the audacity to talk about ancient Greek and Pashto? Who even knows those? It's ridiculous."
Han Zhi, still reeling from Lin Xie's linguistic arsenal, nearly dropped her champagne glass. "She's an orphan… and she speaks fourteen languages? How is that even possible? This whole thing is a joke."
Yue Qing stomped her heel lightly, face flushed with barely concealed fury. "He's completely taken her side. We're supposed to be the future wives of powerful men like him! And she's just some nobody following him around like a shadow."
The heiresses glared at one another, a chaotic storm of jealousy, insecurity, and wounded pride swirling between them.
Lian Mei finally snapped, voice rising loud enough to draw a few curious glances from nearby guests. "We have the looks, the brains, the connections! And yet, he treats us like air. Like… like garbage."
Wen Yuyan threw her head back, laughing—bitter, frantic laughter that didn't reach her eyes. "We'll see how long that 'orphan' stays by his side. This is just a phase, a joke. He'll come running back to us. They always do."
Zhang Min smirked, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Next time, we'll make sure she's the one who's humiliated."
Xu Qian's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Maybe we should remind him who he really belongs to."
Han Zhi and Yue Qing nodded fiercely, eyes blazing with schemes already forming behind their glamorous masks.
Meanwhile, Lin Xie and Shen Rui moved through the crowd like a shadow and its master, unbothered, unshaken.
Behind the heiresses, the atmosphere was a ticking bomb of chaos, jealousy, and plans to reclaim what they thought was theirs.
But for now, the only sound was the faint clinking of wine glasses—and the cold, ruthless silence that followed Shen Rui's warning.
The game had only just begun.