The high-end café in the city center buzzed softly with quiet chatter and soft piano music. But Feng Xiao Xiao's presence brought a chill to the air.
She sat in a window booth, elegant in white silk, sipping tea with a calm that could cut glass.
Across from her, Feng Ju arrived late, as always—cocky, casually dressed, smile smug.
"I'm surprised you agreed to meet," he said, sliding into the seat with the arrogance of someone who'd never been told no.
"I had time to waste," Xiao Xiao said, not bothering to hide the boredom in her tone.
He laughed, mistaking it for flirtation. "You've changed. All this... quiet fire. It suits you."
She tilted her head, staring at him like he was an insect. "Did you call me here to flirt, or to ask if I've forgiven you for your betrayal?"
His smile froze slightly. "Xiao Xiao, you know things weren't so simple back then. My family was pressuring me—"
"And you folded like paper," she cut in. "You threw me to the wolves to protect your own image. You let your sister and that stepmother humiliate me, while pretending you didn't know."
Feng Ju's expression tightened. "You're still angry about that?"
"No," she said quietly. "I'm beyond anger now."
She leaned forward slightly.
"I died, Feng Ju. I died because I trusted you."
He blinked. "What are you talking about?"
She smiled—not kindly. "Nothing. Just a metaphor... for how foolish I was."
She stood, collecting her purse.
"I want you to listen very carefully." Her voice was cold silk. "You are no longer worth my time. Or my hate. You can spend the rest of your life chasing shadows of me, but you will never catch the woman I've become."
As she turned to leave, Feng Ju reached out to grab her arm.
But a suited man stepped in immediately—Li Yan's bodyguard—gripping Feng Ju's wrist before it even touched her.
"She said no," the man said calmly, twisting his hand until Feng Ju winced.
Xiao Xiao didn't even look back.
This time, she didn't walk away crying.
She walked away in heels that echoed power, her head held high.