Chapter 1547: Start the Party

The day slipped by quietly, and before long, evening arrived with the Worthington family’s welcome party drawing near.

Lory had done her due diligence. Thoroughly.

On the surface, the Worthingtons appeared unremarkable, almost comfortably so. They were long-time residents of Harland, though their roots traced back to Herwin, a southern town and the second-largest city after Heriond.

In the aftermath of the Dark Ages War, when uncertainty still lingered like a lingering shadow, they had relocated to Heriond in search of greater security and stability. Like many others, they had settled there and never left.

Derek Worthington stood at the head of the family, serving as the CEO of Westlake International, an influential commercial real estate and investment firm with holdings that stretched across multiple districts. The company’s name rarely appeared in scandals or headlines, yet its reach was undeniable, quietly embedded in office towers, luxury developments, and high-value land acquisitions.

The wealth it generated was vast and steady, the kind that accumulated over years rather than overnight. It afforded Derek a life of ease and influence, one where money was never a question but an expectation, sufficient to maintain multiple properties, indulge refined tastes, and provide his family with a seamless, luxurious existence untouched by financial concern.

His wife, Myra, embraced this abundance wholeheartedly, devoting considerable energy to ensuring that not a single coin of her husband’s fortune went unspent, turning wealth into spectacle at every opportunity.

Then there were their daughters. Kelly and Shelly, eighteen and twenty, are both students at Green Valley University. Youthful, privileged, and outwardly ordinary, precisely the kind of young woman one would expect from a well-off household that had never known true hardship.

At first glance, the Worthingtons were nothing more than a typical affluent family.

And yet, Lory did not lower her guard.

In this era, identities were fragile things—easily altered, easily fabricated. Appearances could be tailored with frightening precision. After all, she and Zhao Li Xin were living proof of just how convincingly one could wear another life.

Lory knew that being ordinary was often the most carefully constructed disguise of all. Still, she had no intention of shying away. She had a plan to lure the enemy out, to create a spectacle so brazen it would force them to show their tails before she closed the trap around them.

She stood before the vanity clad in a black turtleneck knitted dress, the fabric skimming her frame with understated elegance before falling modestly below her knees.

A simple gold chain belt rested at her waist, subtly accentuating its slender curve without a hint of ostentation. The overall effect was restrained and refined, quietly elegant, with nothing excessive, yet impossible to overlook.

Her hair was tied into a loose, messy bun, a few soft strands slipping free to frame her fair face. She wore barely any makeup, save for a sweep of red lip gloss that added just enough color to draw the eye, a quiet statement of confidence rather than seduction.

"Lory, are you ready?" Zhao Li Xin’s voice sounded as he entered the room.

She finished fastening the pearl stud earring at her lobe, then lifted her gaze to meet his through the reflection in the vanity mirror.

"Yes," she replied calmly.

Zhao Li Xin narrowed his eyes, a flicker of unease crossing his expression, tinged with unmistakable dissatisfaction.

Lory caught the subtle shift immediately. She turned to face him.

"What?" she asked.

He paused, clearly weighing his words, before speaking again with a troubled look.

"You’re... going out like that?"

Lory blinked, confused. "What? Is there something wrong?"

She turned back toward the mirror, inspecting herself carefully. The dress was very modest in her world standard, the fabric not only covering her neck, but also arms, and thighs, there’s not even a slit to let other to peek at her skin.

The dress wasn’t too tight either, nothing like the body-hugging gowns she had worn before. She genuinely didn’t understand, still and all, Zhao Li Xin’s comment make her feel upset.

"You don’t like my dress?" Lory pouted, a trace of disappointment creeping into her voice.

A pang struck Zhao Li Xin’s heart. He hadn’t meant to make her feel dejected. Truly, he had no issue with the dress itself. The problem was that it had been far too long since he had seen Lory dress like this, and the effect was—

Overwhelming.

"No," he said at last, his voice lowering. "I mean... I like it. The dress is beautiful." His gaze softened, a glint of unmistakable infatuation flickering in his dark eyes. "And you look too beautiful. That’s what worries me."

Lory froze.

"Oh..."

A faint blush crept across her cheeks, soft and unmistakable, and in that instant, her earlier displeasure dissolved into a quiet, unexpected joy. Warmth settled in her chest before she could stop it.

Still, she refused to let it show. Turning slowly, she examined the man before her with deliberate care, the relaxed posture, the cold indifference he exuded so naturally, the captivating darkness of his eyes. Suddenly, a strange premonition settled over her, telling her she would not enjoy the party at all.

A sudden rush of irritation surged up her spine. Her lips curved into a scoff, "Before worrying about me, you should worry about yourself

Hm?" Zhao Li Xin looked at her blankly, clearly not understanding what she meant.

Zhao Li Xin stood by the doorway in a simple long-sleeved T-shirt and gray trousers, the picture of effortless ease. He had rolled his sleeves up to his forearms, revealing strong, beautifully defined arms.

His hair was tied back in a simple man’s bun, loose enough to appear almost careless, lending him an air of relaxed indifference—as though he couldn’t care less what others thought of him. Unfortunately, that very detachment was the kind of charm women were drawn to, like moths to a flame, and adding to his looks... ℯℓ.

Lory walked toward him, her steps unhurried. Reaching out, she caught his sleeve and slowly pulled it back down, covering his exposed forearm.

"Wear a blazer," she said firmly.

Then she lifted her gaze, fixing Zhao Li Xin with a distinctly annoyed look. After a brief pause, she added, "And... put some sunglasses on."

She gestured vaguely at his face, her expression full of trouble and resignation. "We can’t just let that be out in the open. For the sake of public safety..."

Zhao Li Xin blinked in confusion. He lifted his hand to touch his own face as if checking whether something was very wrong about his face. "Safety from what?"

Lory smirked, "From me..."

A moment later, Zhao Li Xin and Lory arrived at the Worthingtons’ luxurious neoclassical villa. Long marble staircases stretched toward the grand entrance, gleaming beneath the midday sun, while an ornate fountain dominated the front courtyard, its water cascading endlessly in a display that all but screamed I am rich.

Every column, every polished surface, radiated deliberate extravagance, less a home and more a statement of wealth meant to be seen, admired, and envied.

Lory and Zhao Li Xin were led by a servant into the back garden, where the party unfolded in deliberate extravagance. White canopies lined the manicured lawn, their sheer fabric stirring gently in the breeze.

Beneath them, long tables dressed in pristine linen displayed an array of refined delicacies, canapés, chilled seafood, and intricate desserts arranged like art.

Servants glided effortlessly through the crowd, offering crystal glasses of wine and champagne, the soft clink of glass mingling with light laughter and polite conversation.

At the garden’s heart, a shimmering pool reflected the clear sky, while guests gathered along its edge and beneath the shaded porch, settling into plush seats as if time itself had slowed.

Every detail spoke of wealth carefully displayed, not merely a housewarming, but more like a statement.

The moment Myra spotted Zhao Li Xin and Lory, her face lit up—though whether it was genuine excitement or simply the blinding sparkle of the enormous diamond hanging at her neck was hard to tell.

"Mr. Zhao, I’m so happy you came!" she exclaimed.

Zhao Li Xin barely registered her enthusiasm. His gaze had already drifted past her, landing instead on a grotesque statue nearby. In the center, there’s a three-meter statue of a naked man clutching a spear pose like a soldier standing on the square platform surounding with... flowers, its vulgar proportions displayed without shame.

The first thought that came to his mind was ’Repulsive’

What kind of man displays something so hideous and tasteless in his own home? Before Zhao Li Xin could dwell further on the thought, Derek Worthington appeared beside them, flashing an over-bleached smile.

"Do you like it, Mr. Zhao?" Derek asked proudly.

’So, it’s him.’

"It’s..." Zhao Li Xin paused, barely restraining the edge in his voice. "Naked."

Fortunately, his expression remained perfectly neutral—revealing nothing to anyone except Lory, who noticed the subtle darkening of his gaze.

"Yes, but look at the musculature," Derek continued enthusiastically. "Every line of the body is sculpted to perfection, don’t you think?"

Zhao Li Xin’s eyes cooled. "Yes... it’s not just the body—" ⅇ

His gaze drifted, involuntarily landing on the statue’s exposed private parts, which were disturbingly accurate. At least, generally.

"It’s a marvelous sculpture, Mr. Worthington," Lory interjected smoothly, cutting him off just in time. She tilted her head, studying the statue with an air of polite interest. "It looks expensive."

Lory understood why Derek had placed such a vulgar piece so prominently. The Worthingtons had a reputation for collecting artwork less for appreciation and more for proclamation. It was the unmistakable habit of new money, of collecting art not as culture, but as proof, a loud declaration of wealth meant to be seen, envied, and discussed.

"It is!" Myra chimed in, delight unmistakable in her voice. "You have no idea how expensive it is. I was so angry when Derek spent fifty million Rom on it."

Her words sounded like a complaint, but the pride beneath them was impossible to miss.

Lory recognized the game at once—this was how the wealthy showed off their status. And so, she played along.

"Fifty million?" Lory exclaimed, feigning shock. "That’s crazy!" She raised her voice just enough to sound appropriately ecstatic.

"I know, right?" Myra rolled her eyes, her irritation clearly rehearsed.

"But I must give it to you, Mr. Worthington—your taste is amazing," Lory said, pressing a hand lightly to her chest, her expression a perfect picture of sincere admiration.

"Oh, you’re far too kind, Mrs. Zhao," Derek replied, visibly pleased, his posture straightening just a little at the praise.

They exchanged fake smiles, polished, practiced, and hollow. It was not the warmth of genuine connection, but the effortless ease of people fluent in the same language of pretense, one they all tacitly understood.

Zhao Li Xin’s gaze drifted to Lory, as Lory kept her fake smile plastered on her face. Zhao Li Xin never seen her act so fake before... usually he hated pretentious man but when it came to Lory, he found it exceptionally adorable.

’So cute’