The Shadows (Underworld 4) JH

24: The Party

The evening air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne and the clinking of champagne glasses. Minghao found himself standing on the edge of the grand ballroom, his discomfort growing with every passing second. The party was lavish, filled with Italy's elite—business magnates, celebrities, and socialites—all of them dressed in the finest designer attire. But the opulence that surrounded him only made him feel more out of place, more isolated.

Yulan, on the other hand, was in her element. She floated through the crowd, effortlessly charming everyone with her sharp wit and dazzling smile. Minghao watched her from a distance, feeling a pang of unease. The Yulan he knew—strong, composed, and strategic—had been replaced by someone else entirely. The alcohol was beginning to take its toll on her, and he could see it in the way her smile stretched a little too wide, her laugh a little too loud.

Minghao took a deep breath, trying to shake off his discomfort. He didn't belong in these circles, and he knew it. But Yulan had insisted he come, saying it would be good for him to mingle, to get to know people who could help his career. But as he stood there, feeling more and more like an outsider, he began to regret his decision to attend.

Just as he was about to slip away to a quieter corner, he heard Yulan's voice, sharp and cutting, rising above the murmur of the crowd. He turned to see her standing in the center of a group of people, a glass of wine in hand, her cheeks flushed with the effects of the alcohol.

"...and the thing about Minghao," she was saying, her words slurred but still dangerously clear, "is that he's just so... so naive! He doesn't understand the world the way we do. He thinks he can just paint pretty pictures and everything will be fine. But that's not how the real world works, is it?"

The group around her chuckled, some of them exchanging amused glances. Minghao felt his heart drop into his stomach. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Yulan wasn't finished. "I mean, look at him," she continued, gesturing vaguely in his direction. "He's too sensitive, too delicate for all of this. Sometimes I wonder how he even manages to survive without me holding his hand all the time. Honestly, it's exhausting."

The words hit him like a physical blow. Minghao felt a burning sensation behind his eyes, the humiliation washing over him in waves. He wanted to disappear, to melt into the floor and never be seen again. How could she say those things? Especially in front of all these people? People who didn't know him, who now, thanks to Yulan, would only see him as some weak, dependent artist who couldn't stand on his own.

He opened his mouth to say something, to defend himself, but the words wouldn't come. His throat was tight, and all he could do was stare at Yulan, his heart breaking a little more with each passing second.

But before he could even think of what to do next, a voice cut through the laughter and chatter, cold and filled with barely restrained fury.

"Yulan, that's enough."

Minghao turned, surprised, and saw Junhui stepping forward, his tall frame imposing as he made his way toward the group. His expression was dark, his eyes fixed on Yulan with a mix of anger and disgust.

Yulan blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Junhui? What are you—"

"You've said enough," Junhui interrupted, his voice low and dangerous. He stepped in front of Minghao, shielding him from the prying eyes of the partygoers. "You should be ashamed of yourself, Yulan. Do you even realize what you're doing? You're humiliating the one person who's always been there for you, the person who cares about you more than anyone else in this room."