The very next morning, Wei Zhenhai had declared—without warning—that his children would finally meet their new stepmother.
The announcement sent ripples through the Wei household like a stone dropped into still water.
Zhao Wenqing had been livid.
"That woman? He wants my children to bow their heads to her?"
Her voice echoed in the sitting room, trembling with rage.
It had taken hours—hours—of calm, careful persuasion from Wei Wanwan to finally get her to relent. In the end, it was Wanwan's quiet words that did it:
"Let us meet her once, Mother. Just once. Not for her sake. For the family's."
Now, with that storm momentarily calmed, Wei Wanwan decided she needed a distraction—and maybe a little retail therapy wouldn't hurt.
Yin Yue Centre was the crown jewel of the city's shopping scene. Sleek marble floors, cascading crystal chandeliers, and glass storefronts that gleamed like diamonds. Everything whispered wealth and exclusivity.
Wei Wanwan entered with her brother Mingliang in tow, sunglasses perched perfectly on her head and a soft beige designer coat wrapped around her figure.
"I still can't believe we're doing this," Mingliang muttered. "Buying a gift for her."
"We're not savages," Wanwan replied coolly. "At least one of us has to pretend to be civilized."
She wandered toward a luxury boutique, her eyes scanning the velvet-lined displays until she paused in front of a bracelet—platinum, thin as moonlight, with a diamond-studded feather design that sparkled with a kind of quiet, dangerous elegance.
Her lips parted slightly. Beautiful.
Maybe not for Yulia Dragina, though. That bracelet was wasted on a woman like her.
But…
Mother might like it, she thought, glancing at the price tag. It was outrageously expensive, but Zhao Wenqing had looked so defeated lately.
"Excuse me," she said to the saleswoman, gesturing at the bracelet. "Can I see—"
A voice interrupted, smooth and sharp.
"I want this bracelet. Pack it up."
Wei Wanwan turned, stunned.
The woman standing beside her was striking—young, maybe in her early twenties. She had red curls that framed her face like fire, and piercing green eyes that glittered under the boutique lighting. Her features were clearly part-Chinese, but there was a wild, untamed confidence about her that made her look foreign, unpredictable.
Wanwan blinked. "Excuse me? I was looking at it first."
The girl barely spared her a glance. "You looked. I bought."
She rolled her eyes and turned to the staff, who, almost as if trained, immediately began boxing the bracelet—completely ignoring Wei Wanwan.
Wanwan's jaw clenched. She had never been ignored before.
"Are you seriously pretending I don't exist?" she snapped. "I said I wanted to see that bracelet first."
The red-haired girl didn't even flinch. "Wanting and buying are different. I don't waste time wanting."
She pulled out a sleek black card and handed it over to the staff, who accepted it with both hands and a bow.
Wei Wanwan took a step forward, her voice hardening. "Do you have any idea who I am?"
That made the girl pause. She turned, finally giving Wanwan her full attention.
Green eyes flicked up and down, casually assessing her designer outfit, manicured nails, and diamond earrings.
"No," she said flatly, "and I don't care."
The bracelet was handed over to her, neatly wrapped in black and gold paper.
The girl took it without another word and turned to leave, her curls bouncing with every step. She didn't look back.
Wei Wanwan stood frozen, livid.
Mingliang finally appeared beside her, a drink in his hand, eyes wide. "...Did you just lose a fight over jewelry?"
"Shut up," she growled.
He sipped his drink. "You think she's one of Yulia's daughters?"
Red hair like fire, curls bouncing with every step.
Green eyes—sharp, vivid, and impossibly cold.
It hit Wanwan like a slap: she had seen those exact features before.
In Yulia Dragina.
Wanwan's eyes narrowed.
"God help us if she is."
Wei Wanwan stormed out of the Yin Yue Centre, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor. The glass doors swung open as she passed, her coat flaring behind her like a cape of fury.
Behind her, the boutique staff called out desperately—
"Miss Wei! Wait—please, allow us to offer you a VIP discount!"
"We didn't know—there was confusion just now—"
But she didn't stop. Didn't turn back.
Not when she was Wei Wanwan, the beloved daughter of the Wei family, used to red carpets, exclusive service, and being treated like a queen. Not when she had just been brushed aside like some nobody by a shopgirl and an arrogant stranger with red curls and poison in her voice.
No one had ever dared to humiliate her like that. No one.
By the time her chauffeur dropped her off at her mother's villa, her fury hadn't cooled—it had sharpened into something cold and cutting.
The maid opened the door and bowed. "Miss Wei—"
"Where's my mother?" she snapped.
"In the back garden, miss."
Wei Wanwan marched past the crystal chandeliers and silk drapes, through the French doors that led into the garden. Zhao Wenqing sat beneath a parasol, sipping tea in a flowing lavender dress, soft piano music drifting from the house.
She looked up in surprise as her daughter approached.
"Wanwan?"
"I've had it," Wanwan burst out, flinging her handbag onto the table. "This is what your kindness gets us. Humiliation."
Zhao Wenqing frowned. "What happened?"
"Everything," Wanwan huffed, dropping into the chair beside her. "I went shopping to buy a gift for her—your ex-husband's new plaything—and I got shoved aside like a peasant."
Zhao Wenqing blinked. "What?"
Wanwan recounted the entire scene at the boutique—her voice rising with each word, her eyes flashing with disbelief and wounded pride.
"She just looked at me like I was nothing. Then she bought the bracelet right out from under me. The staff ignored me. Ignored me, Mama!"
Zhao Wenqing reached out, gently placing her hand over her daughter's.
"It's just a bracelet, Wanwan."
"It's not about the bracelet!" she snapped. "It's about who she was. I'm telling you, that girl was not normal. She had this arrogance, this boldness… she acted like she owned the entire city."
Zhao Wenqing's lips thinned. "You think she's related to Yulia?"
"I'm sure of it." Wanwan's eyes narrowed. "She had red hair, green eyes, and that kind of mixed-blood look. Foreign. Elegant. But also… dangerous."
She exhaled sharply and leaned back.
"I should've just slapped her."
Zhao Wenqing gave her a look. "You would've embarrassed yourself more."
"I already was embarrassed. What does it matter now?"
Silence settled between them, broken only by the soft chime of the wind brushing against the garden chimes.
Finally, Zhao Wenqing sighed. "Let your father play house with that woman if he wants to. Let her daughters strut around in shops. None of it will last. Women like Yulia don't stay anywhere for long."
Wei Wanwan looked away, teeth clenched. "I don't care if they stay or not. But if they dare to cross me again…"
She stood up, her voice low and cold.
"…they'll find out who the real Wei Wanwan is."