At six o'clock in the evening, the banquet commenced with great pomp. Once inside, people seemed to wear different faces, their smiles unwavering. Xiao Lin, holding Xia Xue's hand, lingered outside; the air inside was somewhat murky, the scents of women's and men's perfumes nearly overpowering the aroma of the delicacies, creating an intense unease.
The two stood in a corner, and Consort Ling had disappeared without a trace. They were unfazed by his absence; it was a habit of his to appear when needed. Watching the elegantly dressed figures engage in enthusiastic exchanges and the socialites boast and flaunt among themselves, they exchanged smiles.
This is upper-class society, where a gathering under any pretext becomes a client source for business transactions—an entirely common practice.
