In all the chaos and happenings, Madam Mo never missed a chance to make Xia Ruyan feel unwelcome. At first, Ruyan had remained courteous, out of respect for Elder Mo, but lately, she had stopped acknowledging the woman altogether.
Today was no different.
When Ruyan joined them for breakfast, Marie quietly served her. She sat in silence, eating with her usual grace and poise.
"Some people just love being different so they can attract attention," Madam Mo sneered, her voice laced with mockery. She didn't realize that in trying to humiliate Xia Ruyan, she only degraded herself.
The others at the table glanced between Madam Mo and Ruyan, but Ruyan remained composed as if the comment hadn't even grazed her. She had come to realize that, in the Mo household, mealtime was never just about food; it was a stage for melodrama.
She came from a family where sharing a meal meant warmth, affection, and connection. But here, in the Mo family, food held no such sentiment. People who shared blood and a surname sat across from each other with nothing but distance in their eyes, exchanging calculated jabs whenever the opportunity arose. And when there were no jabs, there was still drama, they simply couldn't go a single day without it.
To Xia Ruyan, it was all cheap and exhausting.
"Eat your food quietly," Master Mo said, casting her a warning glance.
"What?" Madam Mo scoffed. "Did I say anything wrong? People love to flaunt themselves in our Mo family these days, forgetting where they came from."
Her sneers twisted her face into something unpleasant.
"Mo Zhenyu, control your wife or get out!" Elder Mo thundered, his patience snapping.
"Grandfather, please calm down. Mother is just expressing her opinion," Mo Yiran said coolly, glaring at Xia Ruyan. Since the last time he had been slapped, he hadn't spoken to her, but he hadn't forgotten the humiliation. He would repay it. Eventually.
"What's the point of getting angry?" Madam Mo shot back. "Is it the truth that makes you so furious?"
Backed by her husband and son, Madam Mo felt untouchable, arrogance thick in her voice.
"The insolence…" Elder Mo's face darkened with fury. But Madam Mo, too far gone in her delusions, wouldn't stop. She was losing face among her social circle, whispered about as the woman whose dragon-like son had married someone of unknown origin. A joke. An embarrassment.
She was born into nobility and married into an aristocratic family. But now, her son, the heir and head of Mo Corporation, was married to a nobody. It had shaken her social standing. Whispers circulated in elite circles, questioning how she, of all people, had failed to stop the match. How could she not have had a say in her own son's marriage? How could she possibly endure the humiliation?
She had always imagined Ye Yutong as her daughter-in-law, a woman of their social standing, cultured and predictable. But fate had turned spiteful. And this… this Xia Ruyan? She couldn't digest it. Leaning back with a smirk, Madam Mo believed she had won this round.
Xia Ruyan finally set her chopsticks down, unhurriedly. She reached for her tea, took a delicate sip, and looked up, calm eyes meeting chaos.
"Madam Mo," she said evenly, "I assure you… If I ever wanted attention, I wouldn't have to try this hard." The table fell into stunned silence.
Madam Mo blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Oh," Ruyan said with serene indifference, "I thought we were sharing opinions this morning. Isn't that your breakfast routine? A side of melodrama with your congee?"
Madam Mo slammed her chopsticks on the table. "You...!"
"So, this is what we've come to?" she barked, rising in volume. "A woman like her sits at the Mo family table, acting all high and mighty like she belongs here? Don't think your fake manners make you better than the rest of us!"
Xia Ruyan didn't flinch. She continued enjoying her tea, movements fluid and detached, as though Madam Mo's voice were just wind passing by.
Madam Mo kept going, louder, shriller. "Sitting there like some mute goddess! You think that makes you classy? You think you're better than me with your dead-fish eyes? What do you even know about our family's legacy? We raised men of honor, not fragile showpieces!"
Ruyan finally tilted her head, voice soft but lethal. "I didn't realize yelling was a sign of noble heritage. How enlightening."
"You—! You low-class little..." Madam Mo sputtered, red-faced and shaking.
"Careful," Ruyan murmured, gently placing her cup back down. "Every word you spit reveals more about your own upbringing than mine. And frankly... It's not flattering."
Master Mo shifted uncomfortably; his wife had been growing increasingly arrogant lately. He couldn't understand why she kept picking fights with the younger generation. Why did she feel so threatened? Elder Mo, meanwhile, looked ready to explode.
But Ruyan went on, her voice feather-light and diamond-sharp. "I was taught that refinement isn't about silk, surnames, or loud dining rooms. It's about knowing when to speak… and when to stop dragging your bloodline through the mud."
"You're calling me uneducated?" Madam Mo shrieked, half-standing now.
"I would never be that cruel," Ruyan replied, utterly calm. "But if silence feels like an insult, perhaps the problem isn't education. It's comprehension."
Another dead silence. Even Mo Yiran, now stared like he was seeing her for the first time.
Ruyan turned to Elder Mo and bowed her head slightly. "Forgive me. I did try to remain courteous. But perhaps this household has confused silence with submission."
"You… You think you're better than us? Then me?" Madam Mo gasped.
Ruyan rose slowly, gaze composed, back straight. "Do you really think there's anything to compete for?" Her words were barely a whisper, yet they hit like a merciless blade.
Then came the echo of approaching footsteps. Mo Yichen entered the dining room, dressed in a crisp suit. He took in the room, then looked at her.
"What's all this noise so early?" he asked, voice cool.
"Yichen," Madam Mo snapped, seizing the chance. "She… she disrespected me. In front of everyone!"
His gaze flicked briefly to Ruyan, her disinterest irritated him more than anything she could've said.
He had been standing on the stairs long enough to hear everything. He knew his mother had provoked her again. And he knew Ruyan, graceful as always, chose silence over escalation, until forced. He hadn't wanted to bother with her. He still remembered how she had treated him coldly and dismissively at the office yesterday. He'd even considered a petty revenge: letting his friends tease her, throw jabs, make her uncomfortable. But when he saw her again this morning, the idea felt cruel. How could he let anyone do that to her?
Yes, he wanted to break that icy façade, to see what lay beneath. He wanted to know if there was something real hidden under all that indifference. But then again, why did it matter? He would make her leave eventually. Once he had full control over Mo Corporation, once his grandfather could no longer dictate his choices, what did it matter then? What was hidden and what was visible?
He heard his mother calling her "dead-fish-eyed." He nearly stepped in then. Because those eyes, quiet, unfathomable eyes, carried galaxies. The rarest among the rare.
He caught himself. No. That meant nothing. So, what if she was beautiful, composed, maddeningly efficient?
She was proud. Scheming. A woman not to be trusted.
"She did?" he said mildly. "Then perhaps it's time we stop giving people reasons to talk."
"Yichen!" Madam Mo gasped, stunned. Hadn't he always favored Yutong? Why was he defending her now? But Mo Yichen didn't engage. He had no interest in his mother's petty theater.
"If everyone's done with breakfast," he said, turning to Ruyan, "we have a meeting in an hour."
She moved and walked out beside him, leaving behind a stunned table and one very red-faced Madam Mo.
His eyes were on her back. Poised was the word shot in his head.
And in that moment, he felt it again.
That pull. That storm.
That realization, sinking in: She was becoming something else. Something more than he was willing to accept.
She wasn't just a deal or an outsider anymore.
She was the standard.