The grand charity gala was nothing short of breathtaking. Held at the city's most prestigious five-star hotel, the venue radiated opulence. A crimson carpet stretched from the entrance, lined with photographers and journalists eager to capture the arrivals of the evening's elite. Towering chandeliers cast a warm golden glow over the lavishly decorated ballroom, where guests mingled, sipping champagne and exchanging pleasantries masked with hidden agendas.
Jiang Yuxi sat stiffly in the luxury car as they approached the entrance. She clutched her evening clutch tightly, feeling the cool metal pressing into her palm. The gown Gu Zeyan had arranged for her—a stunning midnight-blue dress with delicate embroidery—hugged her frame perfectly. It was elegant and understated, yet it made her stand out in a way she wasn't used to.
The car rolled to a smooth stop. Gu Zeyan exited first, buttoning his black tuxedo jacket with practiced ease. His sharp gaze flicked toward the car door as the chauffeur opened it for Yuxi. For a moment, she hesitated. Then, gathering her composure, she stepped out, heels clicking softly against the polished marble.
A hush fell over the crowd.
Yuxi could feel their stares, the judgment, the curiosity, the silent ridicule. Women whispered behind their delicate fans, while men eyed her with a mix of intrigue and dismissal. She knew exactly what they were thinking—Who does she think she is?
Before she could overthink it, Gu Zeyan offered his arm. His expression remained indifferent, but the gesture alone sent shock waves through the onlookers. For a fleeting second, she hesitated. Then, she placed her hand lightly on his forearm. They walked in together, an image of a perfect couple—at least on the surface.
Inside, the grandeur was even more overwhelming. The ballroom gleamed with golden accents, crystal glasses clinking as waiters glided through the crowd carrying trays of wine. The air buzzed with the low hum of conversation, but as soon as Yuxi stepped in, a ripple of murmurs spread.
She didn't need to hear the words to know what they were saying.
"I heard she was just a waitress before she married Gu Zeyan."
"How shameless. She must have seduced him somehow."
"I bet she doesn't even know which fork to use for the appetizer."
Yuxi kept her expression neutral, refusing to let their words shake her.
From across the room, Jiang Roulan stood with Yang Meilin, both wearing carefully crafted expressions of fake concern. Jiang Roulan was dressed in an expensive lavender gown, her hair styled in loose waves that gave her a soft, approachable appearance—completely at odds with the venom in her eyes.
"Oh dear sister," Jiang Roulan purred as she approached. "You look… different tonight."
"That's one way to put it," Yang Meilin added with a condescending smile. "It must be nice, stepping into high society overnight. I do wonder if you're adjusting well."
Yuxi met their gazes steadily, refusing to be baited.
Gu Zeyan, however, barely spared them a glance. "If you have nothing useful to say, don't waste our time," he said coolly before guiding Yuxi further into the ballroom.
Jiang Roulan's smile faltered, but she quickly masked it. This wasn't over yet.
As expected, Qin Ruo was already waiting.
She stood among a small group of high-society women, all dressed in designer gowns, their expensive perfumes blending into an overpowering scent of wealth and arrogance. The moment Yuxi and Gu Zeyan approached, Qin Ruo turned, her lips curling into a sweet, insincere smile.
"Yuxi, what a surprise," Qin Ruo said. "I wasn't sure you'd have the confidence to attend such an event. But I suppose, as Mrs. Gu, it would be expected of you."
The women around her tittered softly.
"Of course," another socialite chimed in. "It must be overwhelming for someone who wasn't raised in this world. Tell us, Mrs. Gu, do you find all this intimidating?"
The provocation was clear. They were testing her, waiting for her to falter.
Yuxi smiled—calm, composed, unreadable.
"Not at all," she said smoothly. "After all, proper etiquette isn't defined by birth, but by how one carries themselves. Wouldn't you agree?"
The socialite's expression froze. The subtle jab was clear—having money didn't necessarily mean one had class.
Gu Zeyan, who had remained silent up until now, let out a barely noticeable smirk.
"I see you've been learning quickly," Qin Ruo said, voice honeyed but sharp.
Yuxi tilted her head slightly. "Not at all. It's simply common sense."
There was a pause. Then, one of the other women changed the subject, sensing the awkwardness in the air. Qin Ruo's lips twitched slightly, but she didn't press further.
The event's host announced the opening dance, and as tradition dictated, Gu Zeyan was expected to dance with his wife.
Yuxi's stomach twisted slightly. She had never danced in such a formal setting before, and she knew Jiang Roulan and Qin Ruo were waiting for her to fail.
Gu Zeyan extended his hand. "You know how to dance, don't you?" he murmured, his tone unreadable.
"Yes," Yuxi replied. She had practiced for events during university, though she was far from an expert.
She placed her hand in his, and he led her onto the dance floor.
The music began.
At first, she focused on her steps, afraid of making a mistake. But Gu Zeyan moved with effortless precision, his grip firm but not forceful. His gaze was unreadable as he guided her.
"Relax," he said quietly.
Something in his voice steadied her.
Slowly, her movements became more fluid, more natural. The world around them faded, leaving only the two of them moving in perfect sync.
By the time the dance ended, there was silence in the room.
Then, applause.
Yuxi lifted her chin slightly, meeting the stunned gazes of the onlookers. She had passed their test.
As they stepped off the dance floor, Gu Zeyan's gaze flickered to the side. He caught sight of a waiter heading toward them—carrying a tray with a glass of red wine tilted just enough to spill.
A "coincidental" accident, no doubt orchestrated by Qin Ruo.
Just as the waiter neared Yuxi, Gu Zeyan moved.
In one swift motion, he shifted slightly, blocking Yuxi from the spill. The wine splashed harmlessly onto the floor instead.
Qin Ruo's smile stiffened.
Gu Zeyan turned his head slightly, his cold eyes meeting hers in silent warning.
The message was clear—Don't test my patience.
As the night came to an end, Yuxi felt a subtle shift in the air between them.
Gu Zeyan had never openly defended her before. He had never gone out of his way to protect her from humiliation. And yet, tonight, he had.
He had allowed her to stand on her own, but he had also made it clear that he wouldn't let anyone trample over her.
It wasn't affection.
Not yet.
But it was something.
And that was enough for now.
As she walked out of the event, head held high, she knew one thing for certain—she was no longer just Gu Zeyan's contract wife.
She was Jiang Yuxi, and she refused to be underestimated.