Chapter 3 — Survival Skills in High Society

I accepted the glass of juice. The surface was ice-cold, and the liquid inside refracted the ambient light into strange, shimmering hues. I looked into her expectant eyes and offered a soft, gentle smile.

"That sounds wonderful."

In the split second before anyone noticed, my fingernail brushed against the surface of the juice. Tucked beneath the nail was a specialized testing reagent crafted by my adoptive father; it was designed to turn a deep, vivid green upon contact with any strong alkaline or common biological toxin. I lowered my head and stole a glance—the reagent remained unchanged. The juice was untainted. Yet, I did not let my guard down. I raised the glass, tapped it lightly against hers, and in front of everyone, tilted my head back to take a long, deliberate gulp. Of course, I only held the liquid in my mouth, ensuring not a single drop was swallowed.

"Not bad at all," I said, smiling at her.

A flash of something difficult to read flickered through the eyes of Wen Ka Xin. I set the glass down, shook my head slightly, and let my footsteps become unsteady.

"I am so sorry, I... I don't seem to have a head for alcohol. I feel terribly dizzy."

"I think I need to step away to the restroom for a moment."

I did not look back, turning instead to head toward the second floor. The restroom was empty, its marble surfaces reflecting a cold, sterile light. I prepared to lock the door, ready to expel the juice and induce vomiting, when suddenly—a faint, sharp crackle of electricity hissed behind me! Before I could react, a powerful surge of current seared through the back of my neck, racing across my entire nervous system in a heartbeat. My vision went black, and my body collapsed, beyond my control, hitting the floor hard. Yet, the grueling training in electrical resistance and torture evasion drilled into me by my father kept a sliver of my consciousness sharp despite the agonizing shock. The door swung open. Wen Ka Xin and a stranger—a man with a callous, unruly air—stepped out from their hiding place. She looked down at my motionless form, her face twisting into a cold, triumphant smirk.

"You idiot."

She prodded my hand with the tip of her stiletto. Seeing no response, her expression grew even more malicious.

"Did you really think I would resort to such low-level poisoning? Even if you died, it wouldn't cost me a single hair."

"But public opinion? That is a different matter. I am going to make sure you are ruined beyond repair!"

They dragged me into a vacant lounge nearby and dumped me unceremoniously onto the carpet.

"Rip her dress open a bit, yes, pull the neckline down further!"

"Prop her up on the bed, make it look like a drunken scandal!"

"Go in there when I signal. I have the angles perfectly mapped out. Don't worry, the camera won't catch your face."

Wen Ka Xin acted like a professional director, orchestrating the man as they prepared to stage a sordid tableau: me, supposedly intoxicated and compromising myself with a stranger. They intended to record a video and then "accidentally" leak it to the public. They wanted to use the most vicious social backlash to destroy me completely. Just as they were obsessed with adjusting the lighting and finding the most damning angle, my fingers finally began to regain sensation. I gathered every ounce of remaining strength, curling my finger just enough to touch the micro-livestreaming device hidden within my brooch. As the lens aligned perfectly with Wen Ka Xin’s face—currently twisted in a mask of jealousy and malice—I smiled faintly and pressed the button to go live. Wen Ka Xin, the game has only just begun.

In the main banquet hall, the giant LED screen had been looping heartwarming photos and videos from Wen Ka Xin’s childhood to the present. As a gentle piano piece neared its conclusion, the screen flickered, erupting into a flurry of static. A second later, the image shifted abruptly! A low-angle video, slightly shaky and bathed in dim, hazy light, appeared. The entire hall fell into a deathly silence. Everyone stared at the screen, bewildered. Then, a sharp, venomous female voice rang out through the high-end sound system, echoing through the entire ballroom:

"You idiot, did you really think I would still be using that amateur poisoning trick?"

On the screen was the guest of honor herself: Wen Ka Xin! Opposite her, a man was dragging the unconscious form of a girl. The girl in the black evening gown was none other than me—the person who had just "left the party due to dizziness!" The hall erupted into chaos.

"Oh my god! Isn't that Ka Xin?!"

"What is she doing? Who is that girl?!"

In the livestream, the dialogue was crystal clear:

"Rip her dress open a bit, yes, pull the neckline down further!"

"Go in there, I’ll find the right angle to get both of you in the frame!"

"I want to make sure she never lifts her head again for the rest of her life! I want everyone to see what kind of trash she really is!"

Gasps, frantic whispers, and sharp intakes of breath filled the room. The impact was more harrowing than any horror film—it was chilling, bone-deep, and terrifying. Wen Ka Xin’s parents, standing in the front row, their faces beaming with pride only moments before, suddenly froze. Their skin turned ghostly pale, and panic flooded their eyes.

"No... this is impossible... what is happening...?" her mother muttered, her entire body trembling.

Her father, seemingly losing his mind, shoved through the crowd, his eyes bloodshot as he screamed, "Turn it off! Someone cut the feed immediately!!"

But the technicians scrambling toward the control booth soon realized the truth: the broadcast system had been hacked, and it was completely beyond their control.