"I saw your girlfriend," Mo Jinliang said over the speaker, voice calm enough to cut the chatter. Yifeng's voice stumbled. "Uncle, what—" "She's at Table Seven. The one in the silver dress." Mo Jinliang didn't explain. He never needed to explain. Around the speaker people shifted; a spoon clinked too loud. "You're joking," Yifeng whispered. He sounded thin on the line. "Am I?" Mo asked. "Send me a photo." Yifeng's phone buzzed. Hundreds of phones were already pointed at the same table. A guest at the banquet had filmed the couple laughing. The clip had three seconds before an elegant hand stepped into frame. Mo Jinliang replayed those three seconds like a verdict. "Uncle, please." Yifeng's voice went higher. "She's just—" "Paid?" Mo said. The single word landed on the table and didn't move. Someone at the next table laughed without meaning to. A woman in pearls looked between her lobster and the far corners of the ballroom. Su Yin kept her gaze on Yifeng's face. She was still holding his hand because that was the job. Her fingers felt small against his glove. Her client had paid enough to ignore every warning in her gut. "Who is she?" someone whispered close enough for Su to hear. "Yifeng's new girlfriend," Yifeng answered too quickly. "College senior. We've been seeing each other." The small fib stuck. Guests nodded. Gossip breath fed itself. Then a shadow detached from the crowd. Mo