“Sang Wan, what’s wrong with you?” The moment Su Baohui saw her, her face darkened. “Why are you only arriving at this hour?”
In past years, whether the birthday was held at a restaurant or at home, Sang Wan would show up early in the morning—helping the servants decorate, matching clothes and jewelry, and later bustling about to greet the guests as they arrived. But today, she was the last to come.
Before Sang Wan could speak, Lu Jinnian stepped forward, presenting a gift box. “Mom, happy birthday! This is for you.”
“Madam Lu, you’re truly blessed—such filial children, celebrating you in new ways every year!”
“We’re all so envious!”
Compliments rose from every corner. Su Baohui, distracted by the chorus of admiration, set aside her irritation and accepted the gift with a broad smile, ushering her guests to their seats. When she turned back, she saw Sang Wan already seated among the visitors. Her expression shifted slightly, the fire in her chest nearly breaking loose. She recalled Lu Zhiyi’s whispered words earlier—that Sang Wan was sulking with Lu Jinnian over her illness and hospitalization, the couple quarreling again.
Swallowing the curses on the tip of her tongue, Su Baohui forced herself to smile. “Xiaomu, come to Grandma…”
Casting a sharp glance at Sang Wan’s back, she beckoned her grandson over and seated him at the place of honor.
The Michelin chef’s team delivered flawlessly; one exquisite dish after another filled the table, and the living room buzzed with cheer.
Midway through the banquet, guests raised their glasses one by one to wish Su Baohui a happy birthday.
Amid the lively clamor, Sang Wan suddenly caught the sting of a vicious curse whispered in her ear.
“Sang Wan, don’t you dare act shameless!” Lu Zhiyi’s eyes burned with hatred. “Don’t think I don’t know—my brother gave you money, yet you didn’t prepare a gift for my mother.”
The two gift boxes Lu Jinnian had carried in were a designer handbag from H and a case of imported bird’s nest. She had secretly lifted the lid earlier. That handbag was the very one she had admired at the boutique, even taken a photo of, and her brother had promised to buy it for her. It should have been hers.
And the bird’s nest—Lu Jinnian and Sang Wan brought it every time they visited.
Which meant: Lu Jinnian transferred the money, but Sang Wan hadn’t prepared anything for Su Baohui. She had used what should have been Zhiyi’s gift to save face, while pocketing the real benefit herself.
“Sang Wan, all these years you’ve been hoarding private money with these cheap tricks, haven’t you? Aren’t you ashamed? You’re not even afraid you’ll live long enough to save it… but not long enough to spend it.”
“Lu Zhiyi!” Her words were cut off by Sang Wan’s cold voice. “I’m not in the mood today. Shut that filthy mouth of yours. Say one more word, and believe me—I’ll tear apart your mother’s birthday banquet right here and now.”
“You…”
Crash! The stemmed glass shattered at Lu Zhiyi’s feet. She could feel the sting of shards against her instep and calf. Stunned, she lifted her head—only to see the entire living room fallen into silence.
“What’s going on?” Lu Jinnian frowned, looking over.
Sang Wan’s expression was cool. “My hand slipped.”
Lu Zhiyi stared at her wide‑eyed, as though she’d seen a ghost. Catching Su Baohui and Lu Jinnian’s disapproving looks, she quickly muttered, “Yes.”
A servant came to sweep up the shards, and the room soon filled with chatter again.
But Lu Zhiyi kept glancing at Sang Wan, half‑convinced she was possessed. She had planned to force Sang Wan to cough up that million yuan—or at least buy her another handbag as compensation. Yet after that glass shattered at her feet, she feared Sang Wan might truly lose control and wreck the entire birthday banquet. If that happened, Sang Wan would suffer, but Lu Zhiyi wouldn’t escape unscathed either. Grumbling inwardly, she slipped off to another table.
The meal passed without further incident.
Su Baohui had no time for her. Lu Jinnian and little Lu Xiaomu couldn’t be bothered. And the only one who usually paid her any attention—Lu Zhiyi herself—had withdrawn.
Sang Wan quietly finished her bowl of rice. Just as she set down her chopsticks, her sharp ears caught her own name.
Relatives beside Su Baohui were praising the Lu family:
Lu Jinnian—handsome and capable, the vast Lu Corporation thriving under his hand.
Lu Zhiyi—graceful, accomplished in her studies.
Lu Xiaomu—handsome and well‑behaved, proof that a tiger father breeds no weak cubs.
Finally, Su Baohui herself—wealthy, carefree, blessed with filial children, and no husband to cause trouble. Her later years promised visible fortune.
Only then did someone realize they had forgotten Sang Wan. A society matron laughed and added, “And the daughter‑in‑law—so beautiful and capable…”
Ordinarily, one would politely echo, “Thank you for the compliment,” or return the favor with, “You’re even more blessed than I.”
But Su Baohui was not an ordinary person. Her gaze flicked toward Sang Wan, remembering how she had entered without even greeting “Mother” or acknowledging the guests.
No longer the dutiful, gentle daughter‑in‑law of years past—she sat there like a pig, caring only about her own meal.
Su Baohui smiled thinly. “As for this daughter‑in‑law, she has no other virtues—but luck, that she has in abundance.”
“Her family background was a mess, yet she managed to charm Jinnian so thoroughly that he saw no one else. They married right after graduation.”
“Worked for a year, then got pregnant and has been enjoying a life of leisure ever since.”
“Well, no wonder she dares to live so comfortably—her belly proved useful, giving us a son…”
“But that’s about the only use she’s had!”
Everyone present was shrewd enough to catch the barb. Clearly, Sang Wan had displeased Su Baohui in some way. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have spoken so bluntly in front of so many people.
The banquet hall fell into a brief hush. Guests glanced from Su Baohui to Sang Wan, faces awkward. Even the relative who had just been praising the family looked embarrassed.
“Sang Wan…” Breaking the silence, Su Baohui lifted her eyes. “Your health should be recovered by now, shouldn’t it? Xiao Mu is already five. You and Jinnian should consider a second child. I’m still waiting to hold a granddaughter.”
“Madam Lu…”
The moment Sang Wan spoke, Su Baohui froze in shock. She heard Sang Wan say: “Didn’t Lu Jinnian tell you? We—”
“Sang Wan!!” Lu Jinnian strode in from the living room, scooping Xiao Mu into his arms, his gaze cold and sharp as it pinned her.
Sang Wan wanted to ask him—was it for the sake of his pride? Or was he truly afraid their son would hear? But wasn’t this a decision the two of them had made together?
“Xiaomu…” Sang Wan looked at the boy and asked softly, “If you could choose another mother, who would you want to be your mom?”
Everyone was stunned, convinced Sang Wan had lost her mind.
In Lu Jinnian’s arms, Lu Xiaomu clapped and cheered, “Aunt Zhaozhao, Aunt Zhaozhao… I want Aunt Zhaozhao to be my new mom!”
The villa fell into silence.
His bright voice rang out all the clearer against the hush.
Sang Wan swept her gaze around the room, finally resting her eyes on Su Baohui. “Lu Jinnian and I are already divorced—only the certificate remains. From now on, I have nothing to do with the Lu family.”
Lu Zhiyi was dumbstruck.
Lu Jinnian’s face turned ashen.
Sang Wan rose and walked away.
Behind her came Su Baohui’s hysterical cry: “Nothing to do with us? Sang Wan, your life is a cheap one—your mother owed the Lu family this debt!”
“Mom!” Lu Jinnian tried to stop her, but it was already too late.
Su Baohui’s shrill voice tore through the air: “A mother’s debt repaid by her daughter! Your worthless life belongs to the Lu family. You think you can just walk away?”
The guests erupted in murmurs.
All color drained from Sang Wan’s face. Her heartbeat pounded so violently her ears rang. A cold smile curved her lips. She had come intending to part peacefully, to celebrate the birthday one last time. But since they refused to let her go—then let it end here.