The way they scrutinised Cixi unmistakably revealed the malice in their eyes and the hatred they held for her.

Their gazes moved from her scarf to her dress, then to the curve of her belly, down to her shoes, and finally back to her face, and one of them let out a small giggle, which she did not even bother to hide. "Did Cassian not give you enough cash to buy some decent clothes?"

A cold smirk settled on Tamara’s face as she clearly enjoyed the insult, relishing the thought of watching the stray girl suffer.

However, Cixi, on the side, looked composed and returned their spitefulness with a serene smile. "He wanted to," she replied politely, keeping her voice smooth and unbothered. "But I told him no. I said once we were officially engaged, he could buy me the world and make others penniless, and I would not stop him."

If these aristocratic women thought she was a weak doormat, they were dead wrong. If they assumed they could throw vile insults at her and expect her to catch them and wear them like a crown, they were mistaken.

Her calm, arrogant retort wiped the smirks right off their smug faces.

"Did I not tell you?" Tamara scoffed at Cixi’s sheer audacity. Then gave a knowing glance at her two companions before fixing back on Cixi. "Women from low backgrounds always reveal their true colours the moment they step into wealth." There was one purpose to call Cixi at this early hour—it was to humiliate her, and how dare this lowlife woman stand with dignity in front of her when she has nothing apart from chanting Cassian’s name?

"You seem to know so much about how people from low backgrounds behave." Cixi held Tamara’s furious gaze without blinking. "It makes me think if you come from that exact same background", Cixi widened her eyes in a display of fake, exaggerated astonishment. "Are we sharing the same roots?"

The third woman’s jaw dropped in bafflement. "She comes from an affluent family! Be careful what you speak before us, stray."

Before Cixi could answer them back in the same polite tone, the woman who had giggled earlier tilted her head and commented, "I wonder whether that is even Cassian’s baby."

The three women once again shifted their gazes back to her swollen belly, this time staring with bitterness.

Even though Cixi wore a fake silicone belly beneath her dress, the malicious way they stared at her unborn child sparked a very real, agonising sting in her chest.

Meanwhile, the professional masseuses remained silent. They kept their heads bowed, rubbing scented oil into the wealthy women’s skin, pretending they did not hear the vicious insults being hurled at the pregnant young woman.

No one offered Cixi a chair as a basic courtesy. They let her stand near the doorway like a servant.

Staring directly at the woman who had just insulted her child, Cixi’s eyes sharpened, and so did her tone. "I always assumed it was highly disrespectful to speak to someone without properly introducing oneself. My parents taught me never to talk to strangers. So I will be ignoring you."

Cixi then rested her cold eyes upon Tamara, yet her mind involuntarily detached from the rich spa. The scent of burning incense faded from her senses. The simple phrase ’my parents’ dragged her consciousness backwards, hurtling through time until she stood near an apartment building.

*

Flash Black

Fourteen years ago

A seven-year-old Cixi sat quietly on the concrete sidewalk, watching the neighbourhood kids swarm brightly towards a colored ice cream truck. She did not have a single coin in her pocket, so she sat in the stifling summer heat, swallowing dryly while few other children licked their sweet treats.

A tall stranger standing nearby noticed her sitting alone. He was a father, holding the hands of his two young sons.

After buying the two cones of ice cream for his sons. He brought an extra one and walked towards her while smiling kindly at her.

"Here you go, little one," the stranger said gently.

Seven-year-old Cixi had looked at the ice cream first, then at him. She still remembered the swirl of pale pink on top and how cold it had looked beneath the sun.

"For me?" she had asked excitedly.

The man had laughed softly. "Yes, for you."

She had taken it with both hands instantly. She had not even tasted it when her father saw.

He came down the steps like a storm, slapped the cone straight from her hand, and sent it splattering onto the pavement before turning on the stranger with such.

"Do not try to play father to my daughter!" her own father roared. His face looked red because of the cheap alcohol he had consumed a few minutes ago, and was out ot get more alcohol.

The kind man had thrown up his hands at once, in shock. "What is wrong with you? I only gave her ice cream. She is the only one without it while others are eating ice cream. I only wanted her not to feel left out."

But Cixi’s father had not listened. He had shoved him hard enough to stagger him sideways.

The kind man stood up in shock, but before he could talk, Cixi’s father swung a heavy fist, punching the stranger squarely in the jaw.

The man stumbled backwards, and his children started to scream in terror.

All the neighbours turned their attention towards the commotion.

The stranger, now angry himself, had lunged back and struck Cixi’s father in return, punching his nose, and he bled.

He let out a cry of pain, and as he wiped the warm red liquid from the back of his hand, a sharp jolt of agony shot through his nose.

Feeling furious and humiliated, Cixi’s father grabbed her tiny arm, his thick fingers digging painfully into her fragile skin. He dragged her up the stairs and threw her into their cramped apartment, slamming the door shut and locked it.