He Siyu paused, lowering his gaze as he spoke in a casual tone, "Seems like you're the one who's interested."
"I am quite intrigued. I've never seen such an impressive woman before—skilled in both literature and martial arts, undefeated, a true beauty without equal." Gu Xingchen clicked his tongue in admiration.
He Siyu turned to look at him, his dark eyes unreadable as he replied coolly, "Ruan Xiaotang probably hasn’t seen it either. Once she finds out you’re into this, she might just learn how to deal with you the same way."
Gu Xingchen’s expression changed dramatically. "Come on, bro! I was just joking. Can we not bring up that ancestor on such a joyous occasion?"
He Siyu turned his gaze back to the floor-to-ceiling window, his indifferent eyes settling on her once more.
In the banquet hall.
Sang Ning walked over and took a seat beside Ji Yan, smiling. "Thank you for helping me earlier, Miss Ji."
"No big deal. I’ve disliked Zhan Yijun for ages. It’s rare to see someone put her in her place like that—of course I had to lend a hand."
Ji Yan extended her hand with a raised brow. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend."
Sang Ning didn’t argue, reaching out to shake her hand.
Ji Yan grinned excitedly. "Actually, I noticed you at the He family’s birthday banquet. I was there when you slapped your younger siblings—impressive moves. Gave me quite the thrill."
Sang Ning: "..."
"I was even planning to testify for you, but He Siyu beat me to it. Hmph, and he’s never been one to meddle in other people’s business." Ji Yan stroked her chin, looking suspicious.
Not bothering to dwell on it, she pulled out her phone. "Let’s exchange WeChat."
Sang Ning blinked. "WeChat?"
Seeing Ji Yan’s phone, she remembered she had one too.
She retrieved the device from her small bag and turned it on.
Wen Meiling, upon learning she didn’t even own a phone, had someone buy her one—though she hadn’t used it until now.
"You don’t know WeChat?"
"No."
"Does your mountain village not have internet?" Ji Yan was utterly shocked.
Sang Ning blinked again. "Seems like it doesn’t."
"..."
Is she from the mountains or the Stone Age?
Ji Yan took her phone directly. "I’ll set it up for you."
With a few quick taps, she downloaded WeChat and registered an account for her. Then she added her own contact, waving the phone at Sang Ning with a grin. "There, I’m your first friend on the list."
Friend?
Sang Ning smiled. Not bad at all.
Meanwhile, the atmosphere at Chen Zheng’s table remained tense.
Unable to stomach the humiliation, Zhan Yijun grabbed her purse and stormed off. Chen Zheng initially moved to follow but hesitated when he noticed Nan Siya glaring at him.
Swallowing hard, he forced himself back into his seat, though his worried gaze lingered on Zhan Yijun’s retreating figure. Only when she disappeared from sight did he finally look away. Nan Siya’s eyes were red with unshed tears.
Chen Zheng tried to soothe her. "Siya, don’t overthink it. Yijun and I are just old friends—you know there’s nothing between us. Sang Ning was just trying to drive a wedge between us."
Nan Siya remained silent, her lips pressed tightly together.
Chen Zheng was growing impatient. Today had been meant to avenge Nan Siya, yet now he was the one caught in the middle.
"If there was anything between us, we’d have been together long ago. Why would I be engaged to you?"
Nan Siya’s face was stiff, tears shimmering but refusing to fall.
Chen Zheng softened slightly, pulling her into a half-embrace. "Enough. Today’s your moment—don’t forget. I even arranged for you to play the opening piano piece, so everyone can see how talented my fiancée is. Let them all know that Nan Sang Ning is nothing but a vulgar country girl with a sharp tongue!"
Nan Siya’s expression eased slightly. She had trained in piano since childhood—a must for any socialite—not only passing the highest level but even performing at the Romanian Athenaeum.
This was her chance to prove her superiority over Sang Ning.
She wanted the world to know: she was the true jewel of the Nan family, while Sang Ning wasn’t even fit to carry her shoes!
A waiter approached. "Miss Nan, it’s time for your performance. The auction is about to begin."
Chen Zheng gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Go on, Siya."
Taking a deep breath, Nan Siya straightened her posture and strode confidently toward the stage.
A grand piano awaited her. Dressed in an elegant white chiffon gown, she looked every bit the refined princess as she took her seat, fingers gliding over the keys as a melodious Chopin piece filled the air.
Ji Yan scoffed at the display. "Always desperate for attention."
Sang Ning watched Nan Siya’s performance, the serene beauty of the scene clashing with the memories flooding her mind—memories of the original Sang Ning.
A girl who grew up with only her adoptive grandmother, forced to drop out of high school to support their meager livelihood, enduring hardships far beyond her years.
Three days before the Nan family found her, she had slipped from a narrow bridge into a raging river, her legs cramping as the currents dragged her under.
And Nan Siya? She had stolen Sang Ning’s identity, living as the pampered princess who rightfully belonged to another.
Sang Ning’s eyes darkened, her fingers curling slightly as she suppressed the simmering anger.
As the final notes faded, applause erupted through the hall.
Nan Siya rose gracefully, offering a demure smile as she descended—only to straighten imperceptibly when passing Sang Ning, her gaze dripping with triumphant disdain.
Even if Sang Ning had returned to the Nan family, these glories would remain hers alone.
Ji Yan nudged her. "Don’t mind it. This circle’s full of people putting on airs. You’ll get used to it—trust me, they only get worse."
Sang Ning nodded. "Mm."
"Oh! The auction’s starting!" Ji Yan tugged her sleeve. "You seemed pretty knowledgeable earlier—help me pick something!"
Nan Siya, now seated, couldn’t resist glancing back at Sang Ning, expecting to see envy twisting her features. Instead, Sang Ning was chatting amiably with Ji Yan, utterly unfazed.
The smugness drained from Nan Siya’s face.
Why wasn’t she jealous?
Sang Ning always wore that same detached calm, as if none of this mattered.
Nan Siya had feared she’d lose her parents, her fiancé, her status—yet Sang Ning hadn’t taken a thing.
Instead, she watched with those indifferent, almost disdainful eyes, as if everything Nan Siya treasured was beneath her notice.
It infuriated her.
The auctioneer’s voice cut through the murmurs.
"First item: a Jin Dynasty lotus-petaled golden bowl with mandarin duck motifs."
Ji Yan turned eagerly. "Well? What do you think?"
Sang Ning glanced at the enlarged detail image on the display screen on stage and shook her head slightly. "It's a golden bowl, but not from the Jin Dynasty."
The Jin Dynasty didn’t have patterns of this style—not even the later Zhou Dynasty had anything like it.
Soon, someone placed a bid.
Ji Yan snorted. "See that? These people can’t even tell what’s real or fake, yet they’re putting on airs."
But Sang Ning was lost in thought. If these people were so easily fooled, wouldn’t that make it easy to profit?
The second item: "A pair of Hetian warm jade Ruyi scepters."
Ji Yan eagerly asked again, "Well? What do you think?"
Sang Ning nodded. "This one’s decent. The jade is translucent with good texture, though there are some faint ice-like streaks inside. Not perfectly pure, but hard to spot with the naked eye."
Ji Yan immediately raised her paddle to bid.
The third item: a painting by the great artist Su Nian, Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix.
As the scroll unfurled, Ji Yan’s eyes lit up—the painting was breathtakingly beautiful!
The starting bid for this piece was ten million!
"Well? What about this one?" Ji Yan sounded like a broken record.
Sang Ning shook her head. "Fake."
"You didn’t even look closely! This painting is famous, the birds are lifelike, and there’s an expert panel’s authentication. It doesn’t seem fake to me."
Around them, the bidding had already begun.
The price quickly soared to thirty million.
Ji Yan grew frantic. She desperately wanted this painting and stared pleadingly at Sang Ning.
But Sang Ning remained firm. "This is absolutely a counterfeit."
"Why?"
Because the real one… had her seal on it.
Su Nian had only ever painted one Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix in his lifetime, and the inscription and date on this piece matched perfectly.
But the genuine painting had once been kept in the Xie family’s library—a birthday gift Su Nian had presented to her grandfather. When she was seven, she’d stumbled upon it by chance and been utterly captivated.
Her grandfather, seeing how much she adored it, gifted the painting to her. Overjoyed, she’d held it all night, unable to sleep. Possessiveness got the better of her, and she pressed her tiny personal seal into a corner of the scroll.
This painting bore no such mark.
"Though this one is also vivid, the brushstrokes clearly differ from Master Su’s usual style. There are also subtle color discrepancies—for instance, he used spring green for the sparrows’ feathers, but this one uses emerald. It’s definitely not authentic," Sang Ning explained.
Ji Yan was stunned. "How do you know all this?"
Sang Ning hesitated. Because the real one had been in her hands for ten years—she’d studied it countless times.
But she hadn’t yet thought of a suitable answer for Ji Yan.
"Since Miss Nan is so knowledgeable, perhaps you could take a look for me as well?"
A deep voice spoke up. Sang Ning turned to see He Siyu.
His sharp phoenix eyes, usually lazy, now held a rare intensity as he studied her with deep curiosity.
He Siyu’s sudden appearance sent a ripple of murmurs through the banquet hall.
"Even Third Young Master He is here?"
