"Buzz—"
Su Xinghui's entire world, all the sounds - the low saxophone of jazz, the chattering of the crowd, the clinking of wine glasses - were completely taken away at that moment, leaving only a dead vacuum.
The heart, the heart that had been silent in the chest for many years, seemed to be grabbed by an invisible cold hand, and then rubbed and squeezed hard and cruelly.
Her fingers, gripping the champagne glass, suddenly tightened as she trembled violently. The cold glass wall was like a red-hot iron, burning her so much that she could hardly hold it.
"...Xinghui? Su Xinghui!"
Ye Fanshuang's voice, with a hint of barely perceptible worry, penetrated the suffocating tinnitus.
She didn't know when she had finished her social engagements, and quietly walked to Su Xinghui's side, following her almost frozen, distraught gaze.
Ye Fanshuang's eyes locked onto the pair of figures precisely, and the tips of his eyebrows twitched ever so slightly, an expression that was both understanding and a bit complex and amusement-filled.
"Oh, Chao Youye and Mu Xinrong." Ye Fanshuang lowered his voice, with a nonchalant and slightly joking tone that was unique to the wealthy circle when discussing secrets.
She leaned close to Su Xinghui's ear, and the warm breath brushed against her cold earlobe, but only brought a deeper chill.
"Are you stunned?"
Su Xinghui shuddered violently, as if she had been forcibly pulled out of a nightmare by these words.
She turned her eyes with great difficulty, tearing her gaze away from the dazzling figures in the distance and meeting Ye Fanshuang's inquiring eyes.
The muscles at the corners of her mouth twitched stiffly, trying to force a smile that meant "nothing happened", but that smile was uglier than crying, with a fragility that was on the verge of breaking.
"They..." Su Xinghui's voice was as dry as sandpaper, almost out of tune. Every word seemed to be forcibly dug out from the depths of her throat. "...are they on good terms?"
Ye Fanshuang raised the corners of her lips, with an all-knowing and almost cruel frankness. She sneered. The laughter was very light, but it pierced Su Xinghui's eardrum like an ice pick.
"More than good?" Ye Fanshuang lowered his voice even lower, with the temptation to share a secret and a subtle hint of sympathy. Every word clearly pierced Su Xinghui's shaky world. "They had signs of being together in high school, but I didn't expect them to actually be together."
boom!
These seven simple words were like seven bolts of lightning wrapped in the flames of hell, striking Su Xinghui's heart, which had already been overwhelmed.
My mind was blank, with only these seven words spinning and magnifying wildly, carrying a devastating echo.
"People in the circle who know about it know something, but that's all..." She paused and glanced at the two people again with a meaningful look.
Chao Youye was lowering her head slightly, with her side profile facing Mu Xinrong, and seemed to be whispering something. Her posture was focused and gentle in a way that others had never seen before.
"I heard that Mu Xinrong's fingerprints have been recorded for several months on Chao Youye's river-view apartment in the city center."
Living together...Fingerprint lock...
Sharp shards of glass, like exploding ice flowers, instantly pierced Su Xinghui's delicate palm. The pain was intense, yet strangely numb, not even a ten-thousandth of the pain in her heart.
Ice-cold champagne mixed with warm blood rushed out from between her clenched fingers, flowing down her white wrists and dripping onto the expensive black dress she was wearing.
At the moment the cup shattered, Chao Youye, who had been lowering her head slightly and concentrating on talking to Mu Xinrong, seemed to be startled by the sudden sound.
He suddenly raised his head.
Those gray-blue eyes, as deep as a cold pond, always with a sense of alienation and scrutiny, passed through the crowd of elegantly dressed people and clinking glasses, at a distance that was neither close nor far.
Precisely and without warning, it collided directly with Su Xinghui's tearful eyes, which were filled with great pain, shock and embarrassment.
Time seemed to freeze at this moment.
Su Xinghui could clearly see that the gentle smile that was unique to Mu Xinrong in Chao Youye's eyes, which had not yet completely faded, disappeared quickly like the tide the moment it touched the scene on her side.
Instead, there was a flash of incomprehensible surprise.
His gaze, sharp and cold, like a scalpel, briefly touched her face, which was slightly twisted in pain.
The gaze may have stayed for less than a second, but it was enough to make Su Xinghui feel like she was stripped naked.
All her embarrassment, all her heartache, all her humble secret love and her current collapse seemed to be seen clearly by those all-seeing eyes.
"Xinghui, your hand!" Ye Fanshuang's cry of surprise finally rang out. With real fear, he grabbed Su Xinghui's bloody wrist, trying to pry open her clenched fist to check the injury.
"Don't touch me!" Su Xinghui pulled her hand back abruptly, her voice hoarse and sharp, filled with a despair on the verge of collapse.
She didn't even dare to look in Chao Youye's direction again, for fear of meeting those gray-blue eyes that seemed to be able to freeze her soul.
She turned around suddenly, almost stumbling, pushing aside two guests who were holding wine glasses and looking at her in astonishment, and rushed desperately towards the glass door leading to the open-air balcony on the side of the hall.
The high heels hit the marble floor, making a messy and rapid sound, which was particularly harsh in this small area that suddenly became quiet.
The black skirt swayed hurriedly behind her, and the dark red stain on it was like a shocking mark of shame.
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