Chapter 8 — The Wedding That Became a Goodbye

Lam Tran raised her gaze and knitted her brows slightly. This person looked rather familiar. She pondered for a moment, and finally memory served her—it had been two months prior, at a high-end business networking gala, where she had caught a glimpse of him from afar. Someone had introduced him at the time as the youngest senior partner law attorney in the entire province, having successfully litigated a string of multi-billion-yuan cases before even turning thirty. Back then, she had casually remarked to Chu Mieu, "That lawyer is rather handsome." Chu Mieu had followed her line of sight toward the television screen and exclaimed, "Ah, isn't that Shen Do? He is quite good-looking, isn't he? It's just a pity that he's already married." Lam Tran had raised an eyebrow in surprise, "Married?"

"Indeed," Chu Mieu had replied. "Word has it his wife is a university lecturer, and she is exceptionally pretty. They have been sweethearts since their college days, and their bond is profoundly deep..."

"Oh." Lam Tran had withdrawn her gaze and continued dipping her beef tripe into the bubbling hot pot.

She had never cared whether Shen Do was married or single. All she needed was a brilliant attorney to help her win this impending lawsuit, forcing Lu Huai Chu to pay a severe, rightful price. As for everything else, she simply lacked the emotional capacity to care. Just as the hot pot session was drawing to a close, Lam Tran's phone vibrated once more. A text message from Shen Do popped up: "Miss Lam, I just caught the news broadcast. Shall we alter our meeting location for tomorrow slightly? There will likely be reporters staking out my office building." Lam Tran deliberated for a brief moment before replying, "Where would you suggest we meet instead?"

"I am familiar with a private club; the atmosphere is reasonably tranquil and offers ample discretion." Shen Do transmitted a location pin her way, "Three o'clock tomorrow afternoon, I shall await you at the entrance."

"Very well."

Setting her phone down, the curling wisps of steam from the hot pot continued to rise unhindered, leaving a fine layer of mist condensing upon the glass panes. Beyond the window lay the sprawling nighttime panorama of the metropolis, where countless glittering lights mirrored the brilliance of the Milky Way scattered across the earth. Lam Tran leaned back against the plush cushions, her fingers absently tracing the delicate lace patterns along the bodice of her wedding gown. Suddenly, she felt that this dress was not to be mourned after all. It had borne witness to the definitive end of a wretched relationship, yet it had equally witnessed her own profound resurrection. That, in truth, was quite a blessing. She raised her glass, gesturing toward the dazzling illumination shimmering outside the window in a silent toast.

"To tomorrow," she murmured under her breath, "to a vastly superior version of myself."

Her three dearest companions raised their glasses in unison.

"To scumbags meeting their demise."

"To everlasting solidarity from best friends."

"To hot pot."

Peals of unrestrained laughter erupted from their corner, instantly enlivening the general atmosphere of the bustling hot pot restaurant. An amiable middle-aged gentleman at the neighboring table could finally resist no longer; he lifted his smartphone, snapped a photograph, and uploaded it to his social moments with the caption: "Went out for hot pot tonight and ran into a young woman wearing a wedding gown. Her smile was far brighter than winning the lottery." Attached to the post was a profile shot of Lam Tran raising her glass of beer, her smile radiant, the tiny sequins on her wedding dress catching the warm restaurant lights and twinkling like starlight. That single post would later amass upwards of thirty thousand shares. But that was a story for another day. The Lam Tran of this exact moment was simply an ordinary woman draped in a wedding dress worth one hundred and fifty thousand yuan, consuming a thirty-eight-yuan hot pot, displaying her disheveled state to the entire world while laughing the loudest. No, that wasn't right—she was far from ordinary. She was Lam Tran, the woman courageous enough to broadcast an infidelity video right in the middle of her own wedding ceremony, bold enough to dine on hot pot clad in bridal attire, and audacious enough to demand a twenty-million-yuan compensation from a worthless man. She was the sort of person—one who you might expect to crumble into tears, yet who ultimately leaves you weeping in awe. The midnight darkness outside remained serene, while the hot pot within continued to simmer fiercely. Whatever tomorrow held could wait until tomorrow.

Returning to her apartment late that evening, Lam Tran unzipped the one-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-yuan wedding gown and hung it meticulously in the most prominent spot within her walk-in closet. She stood before the vanity mirror to remove her makeup, revealing a completely bare, immaculate face—her skin porcelain-white, her facial features striking, sharp, and irresistibly alluring. The woman staring back from the glass was twenty-six years old, unmarried, possessed a net worth exceeding one hundred million yuan, and had just made a safe, triumphant retreat from an utterly farcical tragedy.

"You clean up rather nicely," she whispered softly to her own reflection.