The matte-black sedan remained at the entrance like a silent guardian as the heavy oak doors of the Tang Mansion swung open.
The chatter in the ballroom didn't die down immediately—it shifted. It became a low, inquisitive hum as three figures stepped into the light of the grand foyer.
Xie Zihan led the way. The charcoal suit Meilin had chosen didn't just fit him; it seemed to arm him. His expression was a wall of calm, his dark eyes scanning the room with a clinical precision that made more than one seasoned businessman feel exposed. There was no trace of the "struggling student" left. Every step he took on the polished marble sounded like a heartbeat—steady, rhythmic, and unshakeable.
To his right walked Xu Feng. He had traded his usual tech-cluttered hoodie for a sharp, slate-gray suit. He moved with a relaxed, observant air, his eyes darting toward the security detail and the high-society vultures with the same analytical gaze he used to debug a server. He wasn't just a friend; he was the tactical shadow.
On Zihan's left was Su Min. She wore a simple, elegant gown in a deep plum color that complemented her quiet strength. She didn't have the flashy diamonds of the socialites, but she carried herself with the dignity of someone who had survived the harshest storms and come out stronger.
Meilin stood at the top of the small dais near her grandfather, her glass of wine finally touching her lips but remained untasted.
He's here.
She watched them move through the crowd. She noticed the way Zihan's gaze immediately found hers across the sea of silk and gold. It was a silent conversation—a promise made in the Moonlit Sanctuary now being kept in the heart of the enemy's territory.
Beside her, Zhao Yiming had re-entered from the balcony. He stood with his hands in his pockets, his eyes narrowing as he measured the three newcomers. "Your 'scholarship student' brought reinforcements," Yiming murmured, his voice low enough only for Meilin. "A strategist, a protector, and the king himself. You've built quite a small army, Meilin."
"They aren't an army, Yiming," Meilin replied, her voice smooth and dangerous. "They're the future. And you're standing in their way."