The press conference hall thrummed with the frenzied buzz of paparazzi—a swarm of locusts drawn to carrion. Liyun's lace handkerchief fluttered like a surrender flag as she dabbed nonexistent tears, her Botox-stiffened face straining to mimic maternal anguish. Richard stood rigid at the podium, his Rolex glinting under TV lights as he declared, "The Xia family renounces Luna's—"
A cellphone clattered to the floor.
"Holy shit!" A junior reporter's voice sliced through the theatrics. "Lila Chen just nuked Weibo!"
Screens lit across the room. The viral post bloomed—a sun-drenched shorescape where Lila's crimson bikini clashed with Luna's ivory veils, waves kissing their ankles. Luna's birthmark—that crescent moon above her collarbone—glowed defiantly, dismantling the scandal's grainy forgeries.
@Lila_ChenOfficial: When your beach detox doubles as a Photoshop masterclass. #BirthmarksDontLie
The hashtag #SouthernLunaNorthernLila erupted like wildfire. Netizens swarmed like ants dissecting a carcass:
"Fake photo's nose job belongs in the uncanny valley."
"Luna's shoulder scar? Missing in the 'orgy' shots. Try harder, hacks."
"Liyun's the real thot here—remember her 'massage' scandal with Chairman Wu?"
Liyun's champagne silk blouse clung to sweat-slicked skin as she gripped the podium. "Deepfakes!" she shrilled, acrylic nails screeching across the mic. "This is AI trickery!"
The lie curdled midair.
Across the city, Lila lounged on a velvet chaise, live-streaming to 12 million followers. "Babe @LunaXThorn," she drawled, buffing blood-red nails, "next time they fake your nudes, tell them to hire my lighting crew. Even Photoshop needs standards."
Back in the hall, Richard's carotid pulsed like a trapped bird. "You—" he seethed, rounding on Liyun, "—you swore those photos were verified!"
"Darling, let's discuss privately—"
Crack.
His signet ring split her lip—a ruby droplet splattering the Xia family crest on the podium. Cameras immortalized the arc of violence: Liyun's hairpins skittering across marble, her couture gown pooling like a deflated balloon.
"You've bankrupted us!" Spittle flecked Richard's silk lapels. "I'll see you in divorce court!"
The mob surged—microphones stabbing forward like bayonets:
"Mrs. Xia! How does betrayal taste?"
"Will Luna inherit the Xia fortune now?"
"Mr. Xia! Any words for your disgraced wife?"
Liyun crawled toward the exit, Louboutins long abandoned. A cameraman's lens caught her final act—manicured fingers clawing at fire escape doors, mascara bleeding into the crevices of her manufactured beauty.
In the shadows, Xiaodie hyperventilated, manicured nails shredding a press pass. "Mother… you promised…"
But the vultures had new prey.
Three blocks away, Luna watched the livestream from a secure penthouse. Caleb's arms encircled her waist, his chin resting on her veiled crown.
"Satisfied?" he murmured.
She traced the birthmark in the photo—her accidental armor. "Not yet."
Outside, storm clouds gathered. Somewhere in the city, Liyun's limousine sped toward oblivion, chased by hashtags and hubris.
The curtain had fallen. The real performance was just beginning.
The press conference dissolved into bedlam. Liyun's manicured hands clawed at the marble floor as stilettos stamped her designer sleeves. Xiaodie's tear-streaked pleas dissolved beneath the mob's jeers—"Like mother, like daughter!"—until security dragged them through a service exit, their dignity bleeding out in the gutter.
In the Xia family penthouse, Liyun pressed an ice pack to her split lip, the mirror reflecting a ruin of smeared mascara and unraveling hair extensions. Xiaodie huddled on a velvet chaise, knees drawn to her chest. "Mother… what if Father actually divorces us?"
Liyun's laugh rasped like sandpaper. "Your father would sooner cut off his right arm than lose my connections." She scrolled through her contacts, pausing on a number labeled Godfather. "Time to remind Richard who built his empire."
Her fingers trembled as she typed:
Anniversary invitation sent. He expects your presence.
Richard's call came before she could exhale.
Meanwhile, on Sanya's sun-drenched coast, Luna reclined in a seaside villa, salt-kissed breeze teasing her veil. Lila sprawled on a nearby lounger, her crimson bikini clashing artfully with a martini glass. "So Liyun's scrambling to play her last card," she mused, sucking lychee pulp from her thumb. "The godfather?"
Luna sipped coconut water through a bamboo straw. "A retired politico from her acting days. His 'patronage' keeps Xia Medical's offshore deals afloat."
Lila's smirk sharpened. "Once he's exposed, her leverage evaporates."
"Precisely."
The women lapsed into comfortable silence, waves harmonizing with the clink of ice cubes. Finally, Lila stretched, her gold anklet catching the light. "Enough scheming. Let's shop. I need something obscene to break the internet."
The luxury mall's air conditioning kissed their sun-warmed skin as they drifted past boutiques. Luna paused before a men's leather goods display, fingers hovering over a crocodile-skin belt. Memories flickered—Caleb's hands guiding hers to unbuckle its twin, his breath hot on her neck as he murmured, "Lesson one: patience."
Lila materialized at her shoulder, dripping in Cartier diamonds and mischief. "Buying a collar for your wolf?"
Luna's cheeks burned. "It's practical."
"Mm. Practical." Lila twirled a ruby pendant. "My third husband said the same about his yacht."
They wandered into a lingerie atelier. Lila held a black lace negligee against herself, winking at Luna's reflection. "Gift yourself in this, and Caleb will sign over Thorn Group by dawn."
Luna snorted. "He'd combust."
"Darling, that's the point."
As Lila debated between silk and satin, Luna's phone buzzed. A notification glowed: 1,000,000 RMB Received - Liyun Xia.
Lila peered over her shoulder. "Blood money?"
"A peace offering." Luna's smile chilled. "She thinks bribes can bury the past."
"How will you spend it?"
Luna's gaze drifted to a jeweler's window, where emerald cufflinks glinted beside a silver tie clip. "Caleb lost his at the gala last week."
Lila's laughter turned heads. "You're buying him replacement shackles? How domestic."
Back at the villa, Luna laid her purchases on the bed: the belt, cufflinks, and a velvet box from Lila containing a note—For when you're ready to chain him properly.
She traced the tie clip's engraving—Intertwined thorns. Not a surrender, but a pact.
Somewhere in the city, Liyun dialed her godfather, unaware the noose was already tightening. And in a penthouse office, Caleb Thorn opened a drawer, withdrawing a dossier labeled Xia Medical Offshore Holdings, his lips curving as he imagined Luna's triumph.
The game continued. But for now, moonlight softened the battlefield, and two women's laughter echoed over the South China Sea—a temporary ceasefire in their endless war.