Chapter Nineteen: The Banquet

The two of them stayed quietly at the Mo residence for the entire day, well into the evening. Neither went out to buy gowns, but the Mo family had already sent over two evening dresses—one white, one black—both exquisitely beautiful.

When they first laid eyes on the dresses, their gazes flickered with surprise. What did this mean? Had Old Master Mo somehow discerned the differences in their identities?

“Which color would you like to wear?” Mo Lan, still very much the elder sister, deferred to Qianyin’s preference first.

In the room, two beautiful girls stood together, with one black dress and one white. The contrast was striking—an angel and a demon, side by side.

“Why don’t I wear the black one? I’ve always liked black, anyway.” Qianyin’s words came out a little awkwardly, her expression somewhat uneasy.

Mo Lan reached out and tapped Qianyin gently on the head, then smiled and took the white dress, disappearing into the bathroom to change. The dress was a bit tricky to put on, layer upon layer of delicate lace—stunning to look at, but rather cumbersome.

Once dressed, Mo Lan stared at her reflection. The train of the gown swept the floor behind her, trailing long and unwieldy. Should anything urgent happen, this dress would be the first to betray her.

She took a deep breath, applied a light touch of makeup, and finished with a swipe of “Icy Rose” lipstick. Absolutely perfect.

Meanwhile, Qianyin stood by the window, holding the black dress and gazing out at the night, ablaze with celebration lights. Was she a black swan, or perhaps a deadly demon?

Just then, her phone chimed with a new job. The message rang out, “ding dong, ding dong.”

Buyer: I want two people dead at tonight’s banquet. One is Captain An Feng, the other is Mo Fan, the young master of the Mo family. Two billion.

When Qianyin read the message, her grip on the dress tightened, her breath coming faster. Two billion was a generous sum, but these two did not deserve to die. She had taken note of them before, and she had never killed anyone unworthy. She had no desire to start now.

Qianyin: I refuse.

The buyer hadn’t expected to be turned down. After a moment of silence, he tried again.

Buyer: Is it beyond your ability? Too low a price? Or are you afraid of the Mo family’s power?

Qianyin: I have nothing to say. Those I wish dead, none are undeserving. But if I do not wish to kill, then they have a reason to live.

No further messages came. By this time, Mo Lan had finished changing and emerged, an angel descended from paradise—breathtakingly beautiful.

“What a stunning beauty,” Qianyin put her phone away and took a moment to admire her companion. She had always known, since childhood, how flawless Mo Lan’s figure was.

“All right, wipe that sweet little smile off your face and hurry to change. We need to leave soon,” Mo Lan said, a bit embarrassed under such sincere scrutiny, her heart beating rapidly. She hastily ushered Qianyin into the bathroom.

Qianyin entered, grinning. The dress was just as troublesome as the white one.

“Whoever designed this must have lost their mind,” she grumbled under her breath. It took real effort to wriggle into it, and she realized she’d developed faster in some places than she’d thought. Once dressed and with a touch of makeup, she looked into the mirror—a vision of ethereal beauty.

Knock, knock!

“Miss, are you ready? It’s time to go,” a young servant girl called gently from outside.

“All set!” Mo Lan replied cheerfully, her eyes now glued to Qianyin. She reached out her hand, waiting for Qianyin’s delicate fingers.

Qianyin blinked helplessly. Had she grown too lazy these past days, growing so relaxed? Still, she obediently placed her hand in Mo Lan’s.

The moment their hands touched, Mo Lan took a firm hold, carefully opened the door, and led the beauty out with her. Her face shone with joy and confidence, pride sparkling in her eyes.

The servants all looked on with stars in their eyes, as if beholding something they dearly loved.

“So beautiful,” someone murmured softly, and then they set off.

Old Master Mo approached, beaming, and broke their joined hands apart so he could squeeze between them, one hand holding each of theirs. Like a mischievous elder child, the scene was warm and full of happiness—joy suffusing all three.

“Let’s go, Dad!” their so-called father hurried over, as if afraid they’d be late.

Perhaps, for some, such a scene was hard to bear.

Yet neither Mo Lan nor Qianyin cared about others’ reactions. They were simply attending a banquet, and whatever happened afterward was none of their concern.

At the banquet, both felt a little out of place. While these grand occasions were sometimes unavoidable, tonight was filled with scheming young women, all dressed to the nines and flashing proud, competitive glances at one another.

“Looks like some people are out for trouble tonight,” Qianyin was first to pick up on it. She sensed a girl’s gaze flitting toward her repeatedly, the look laced with disdain.

After making the rounds with Old Master Mo and exchanging greetings, the two found a place to sit. Their smiles were a bit stiff from overuse. The old master was laying groundwork for their future, introducing them to prominent guests and hinting that these connections might look out for them one day.

Mo Lan and Qianyin took all of this to heart. There was little they could do to repay him except to accompany him dutifully.

“If you’re interested, you can go play with them a bit. Just don’t be too rough,” Mo Lan said with a smile, glancing in the direction of the girl.

Catching their gaze, the girl actually walked over herself, glass of red wine in hand, high heels clicking—a veritable peacock in all her colors.

It was none other than Xiao Qi, the one who had challenged Mo Lan before. So that look wasn’t for Qianyin, but for Mo Lan. Perhaps she meant to target both at once.

“Didn’t expect the Deputy Captain to have the interest to attend an event like this,” Xiao Qi said, taking a delicate sip of wine, her provocative gaze full of pride.

“What’s wrong with that? If you can come, why shouldn’t I?” Mo Lan retorted, amused. After all, this was a gathering of the elite—why shouldn’t she be here?

Caught off guard by the response, Xiao Qi looked a bit embarrassed.

This woman was scattered, never making sense, always picking fights without reason.

“My apologies, I misspoke. I hope you won’t hold it against me,” Xiao Qi managed, still keeping up appearances in such a setting. She sipped her wine again, her face wreathed in smiles.

It was like a child who slaps another, then grins and apologizes—“I’m young, forgive my careless words,” her demeanor seemed to say.