*Chapter 16: A Gathering of Masks*
The weekend brought with it an unexpected summons: Zhao Liang's grandfather was hosting a family banquet. It was the first time Li Xue would be seen publicly as his wife since the accident.
The penthouse buzzed with preparations, though Zhao Liang's demeanor remained icily detached. He handed her a dress in a garment bag without looking at her. "Wear this," he said simply.
She opened it later, breath catching at the sight of the silk gown — elegant, expensive, but in a deep crimson that felt more like a warning than a gift.
At the banquet, the air was thick with whispered curiosity. The family's eyes darted between them, reading every movement. Li Xue smiled politely, though her heart hammered in her chest. She felt like prey surrounded by wolves.
Zhao Liang played his role flawlessly, his arm around her waist, his smile practiced and cold. To the world, they appeared united. To her, it felt like suffocation.
And yet, in a fleeting moment when she stumbled on the hem of her dress, his hand tightened on hers instinctively, steadying her. For a breathless second, she saw something real flicker in his eyes. Concern? Memory?
But just as quickly, he withdrew, his touch turning into a grip that reminded her of her place — bound by contract, bound by duty, bound by his cruelty.
The banquet ended with applause and laughter, but for Li Xue, it was nothing but a stage where love was an illusion and survival her only script.