Zhou Ting stared intently at her, from head to toe, then back again. She made no attempt to hide the surprise on her face. This woman was far from a great beauty!
Yan Xixi had a bandage wrapped around her head, with traces of dried blood faintly visible underneath. Her eyelids were slightly swollen, her face pale and sallow without any makeup, her hair disheveled. The clothes she wore, both in texture and style, were quite ordinary. Her overcoat, in particular, was crumpled and did nothing for her appearance. She just stood there silently with her head down. She looked as if she had been ill for a very, very long ti—utterly exhausted and haggard.
Zhou Ting had intended to burst in with righteous indignation, parading her "official" status to confront the culprit. But to her surprise, this "mastermind" showed no signs of triumph; on the contrary, she looked like this. It was like a strongman throwing a punch, only to find it landing on a ball of cotton.
Zhou Ting said coolly, "Sit."
Her tone wasn’t overtly arrogant, yet it carried an unprompted imperiousness, like a queen commanding her subjects. This woman has the sa aura as Wan Donglin. Both grew up steeped in an atmosphere of extre indulgence, as if the world exists solely for them.
It was said that, like Wan Donglin, she had been jet-setting around the world in her tycoon father’s private plane since she was three or five years old. She was a distinguished guest at all sorts of lavish banquets and had even t Bill Gates. A nanny saw to her every need, and she was accompanied by several muscular bodyguards even on trips. It’s this damnable sense of superiority.
Yan Xixi finally understood why she detested Wan Donglin so much. He and this woman were, in fact, a match made in heaven—perfectly suited for each other.
Especially the look in Zhou Ting’s eyes right now. It was exactly the air of an Empress—the kind where if a concubine gave even a slightly wrong answer, she would be imdiately beaten to death with staves.
In truth, this Zhou Ting had no right whatsoever to be here bossing anyone around. But for a wealthy young lady like her, it was ingrained in her bones—whether she had the right or not, she was used to it.
Yan Xixi didn’t want to end up like the high school classmate of her cousin from the Zhou family—the girl who had been hounded to death. So, she just stood there. She flicked a quick glance at Zhou Ting, then imdiately lowered her head again. Zhou Ting could see clearly that Yan Xixi’s eyes were faintly bloodshot and that she looked listless, as if she had completely despaired of life.
How utterly hopeless must such a young woman be with life to have such an indifferent look in her eyes? There wasn’t even a flicker of vitality left in her.
How did this look like the deanor of a triumphant, seductive vixen? If anything, Yan Xixi herself looked more like a cast-off first wife.
Zhou Ting was inwardly shocked. Is this really the woman who supposedly made Wan Donglin feign illness to break off our engagent? What on earth about her could have so bewitched him?
If Yan Xixi had been vibrant, beautiful as a celestial fairy, and radiating an overwhelming sense of superiority from the get-go, Zhou Ting might have imdiately relished the confrontation. The problem was, faced with such a sickly woman, she felt surprisingly hesitant, unsure what tactics to employ. The dozens of thods her mother had taught her before she ca seed useless now. It felt as if any victory over this woman would be hollow.
No, the legendary ’vixens’ who are thoroughly pampered by n are nothing like this at all.
She began to suspect she had the wrong person and asked again, to confirm, "Yan Xixi, right?"
Yan Xixi nodded and finally sat down opposite her.
Zhou Ting stared at her, her expression a mixture of shock and doubt. "Miss Yan, what happened to your head?"
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