Everyone understood what that sentence implied.
In everyone’s impression, Song Tang always wore exaggerated makeup and had terrible taste.
How could she possibly be the fresh and beautiful woman standing before them now?
The crowd looked more carefully, their gazes moving back and forth between her face and her dress.
The dress was indeed the one Song Tang had worn today.
That was right, this so-called Christmas tree.
But the face was completely different.
Without the purple eyeshadow and thick false eyelashes, her eyes looked especially clear and bright.
Without the wall-like layer of foundation, the bridge of her nose appeared even more defined.
And without the deathly Barbie pink lipstick, her lips showed their natural pale pink shade, like peach blossoms blooming in spring.
It was her.
It really was her.
Song Tang!
Among the crowd, the expressions of several young women visibly darkened.
They were famous socialites within the circle and normally had little interaction with Song Tang.
A nouveau riche family’s daughter like Song Tang was hardly worthy of standing on equal footing with them.
Yet Song Tang just happened to be Lin Yanchen’s girlfriend.
That was something they had never been able to understand.
Lin Yanchen, the man they had secretly admired since their teenage years, the man who had never spared them even an extra glance.
Why would he choose Song Tang, a vulgar, heavily made-up country bumpkin from a nouveau riche family, as his girlfriend?
Although they could not understand it, they firmly believed one thing.
Lin Yanchen would definitely break up with Song Tang.
Rumors had already been spreading through the circle recently that the two would separate in another half month.
Everyone had been waiting for it.
Yet now, Song Tang had appeared with a face like this.
They stared at her, storm clouds gathering in their eyes.
How had Song Tang suddenly become so pretty?
It was irritating.
Extremely irritating.
Song Tang remained completely oblivious to all those stares.
She lowered her head and familiarized herself with “Song Tang’s” phone while casually sending a message to the original owner’s father, asking where he was.
At that moment, a woman in a pale yellow evening gown set down her wine glass and walked toward Song Tang.
The people nearby exchanged meaningful looks when they saw this scene.
The woman approaching was named Xuan Xinyang.
The eldest miss of the Xuan family, famous in their circle for her arrogance, and also rumored to have liked Lin Yanchen longer than anyone else.
She normally could not even be bothered to acknowledge Song Tang. At most, she would give a brief nod before walking away, too lazy to even speak.
So why had she taken the initiative to come over today?
After sending her message, Song Tang lifted her head and met Xuan Xinyang face to face.
She did not know this woman.
But the original owner’s memories surfaced automatically.
Xuan Xinyang, eldest miss of the Xuan family, one of the highest ranking socialites in the capital’s elite circle.
She came from an excellent family background, though her temper was notoriously bad.
The original Song Tang had always acted timid and submissive in front of Xuan Xinyang, never daring to say an extra word for fear of offending her.
Xuan Xinyang stopped in front of Song Tang and sized her up.
Her gaze slowly moved from Song Tang’s face down to the glittering red dress she wore, then back to her face again.
A smile gradually curved her lips.
“Oh, so it’s Song Tang.”
Her voice was neither loud nor soft, just enough for everyone nearby to hear clearly.
“I was wondering who it was. I didn’t even recognize you for a while.”
Xuan Xinyang smiled lightly. “Coming to a banquet without even wearing makeup, you really have no basic manners at all.”
Soft laughter rose from the surrounding crowd.
Song Tang merely looked at her without speaking.
Xuan Xinyang continued, “But your dress is quite pretty. It suits your temperament perfectly.”
The laughter around them grew louder.
Yet Song Tang remained completely unmoved, her gaze still casual as she looked at Xuan Xinyang.
If it had been the original owner’s personality, she would already have been blushing furiously by now, lowering her head without daring to speak, or finding an excuse to flee in embarrassment.
Xuan Xinyang dared to mock her so openly precisely because she knew the original Song Tang would never talk back.
She had been waiting to see her flushed face and awkward, unsophisticated reaction.
But Song Tang was not the original owner.
She curved her lips into a smile and called out, “Miss Xuan.”
“Your pale yellow gown today is quite pretty too, but did you forget to brush your teeth before leaving the house?”
“The smell is a little overwhelming. What a waste of such a nice dress.”
As she spoke, Song Tang waved a hand lightly in front of her nose as if she had truly smelled something unpleasant.
It was the first time Xuan Xinyang had ever been talked back to like this, and for a moment she failed to react.
Even the surrounding laughter abruptly stopped.
Wasn’t Song Tang always someone who bullied the weak and feared the strong? How could she suddenly act this tough in front of Miss Xuan today?
Song Tang continued, “Miss Xuan, whether I wear makeup or what kind of dress I choose to wear is my freedom.”
“If you have that much spare time, why not go home and brush your teeth a little more? Coming to a banquet with a foul mouth isn’t exactly classy either.”
Xuan Xinyang’s expression completely changed.
Several women nearby sucked in sharp breaths.
Had Song Tang gone crazy?
How dare she speak to Xuan Xinyang like that?
Xuan Xinyang glared at Song Tang, momentarily unable to find any words.
The Song Tang who had never once talked back before actually had such a sharp tongue?
“You actually dare speak to me this way?” Xuan Xinyang finally snapped out of it, her tone full of disbelief.
Song Tang blinked innocently. “What did I say? I praised your dress and even reminded you to pay attention to personal hygiene.”
She smiled, then walked past Xuan Xinyang.
“Take your time enjoying yourself, Miss Xuan. I’m off to find my dad.”
Xuan Xinyang stood frozen in place, her hands clenched tightly into fists.
She could hear people whispering around her. Although she could not make out the words, she knew with her toes what they were saying.
The eldest miss of the Xuan family had just been publicly humiliated by a nouveau riche family’s daughter.
She simply could not swallow that humiliation.
Xuan Xinyang noticed a glass of red wine on a nearby table.
She grabbed it and turned to follow Song Tang.
Raising her hand, she tilted the glass, sending the dark red wine splashing toward Song Tang’s back.
“Smack!”
A crisp sound rang out.
Before anyone could react to what had happened, they saw the red wine suddenly change direction in an almost bizarre manner.
Then, in a perfect arc, it splashed entirely back onto Xuan Xinyang’s own chest.
A large dark red stain spread across the pale yellow bodice of her gown as wine trickled down the fabric and dripped steadily onto the floor.
Xuan Xinyang froze.
She looked down at her ruined dress before lifting her head to stare at Song Tang.
At some point, Song Tang had already turned around. In her hand was a silver serving tray, several droplets of red wine still clinging to its edge.
She looked at the wine stain across Xuan Xinyang’s chest and raised an eyebrow.
“Miss Xuan,” she asked with genuine confusion in her tone, “why did you splash wine on yourself?”
Xuan Xinyang’s face darkened completely. “Song Tang!”
Normally spoiled beyond restraint, she could no longer control her temper at all.
Just those two words carried what felt like two tons of hatred.
But Song Tang simply returned the tray to the nearby table with an easy expression.
“I’m here. What instructions does Miss Xuan have for me?”
The moment those words fell, Xuan Xinyang trembled with rage once again from Song Tang’s tone.
The wine stain on her chest was still dripping downward. Her dress was ruined, and so was her dignity.
Nearly everyone nearby had turned to look at them, and some had even taken out their phones.
Xuan Xinyang knew she could not remain here any longer, or the only person who would continue losing face would be herself.