Reborn to heal and take revenge

The ballroom shimmered under crystal chandeliers, golden light dancing across the sea of silk gowns and tailored tuxedos. Laughter clinked against fine porcelain. Toasts were made. Promises whispered.

The Lin family stood as a symbol of tradition and success.

But Elara?

She stood out — a different kind of quiet. Like a candle just before the flame turns blue.

As dessert was being served, a shriek pierced the buzz of conversation.

"A piece is missing!"

Gasps followed. Guests turned toward the velvet-draped display table at the far end of the hall. One of the organizers, pale and frantic, stood over an empty box.

"A jade heirloom!" she cried. "Gone!"

At first, there was confusion. Then speculation. And then—

"I saw her standing nearby."

It was a girl from Meilin's school, face flushed with false indignation.

"I did too," said another. "Elara Lin. She was the only one close to the case when the lights flickered earlier."

"She walked away so casually afterward," a third added, voice rising above the crowd.

The accusations spread like wildfire. Elara said nothing.

Not yet.

Her siblings approached, a perfect performance of concern and righteousness.

"I'm sure there's a mistake," Meilin said sweetly. "But... perhaps we should check her bag, just to be safe."

Zian added, "It's a matter of formality. If she's innocent, it'll be over in seconds."

The event organizer hesitated, then nodded.

"Miss Lin," he said, gently. "May we?"

Elara didn't flinch. She turned, took her purse off the chair, and opened it.

There, gleaming under the ballroom lights, was the jade pendant.

A collective gasp.

"No..." she whispered.

But no one was listening anymore.

---

Guests backed away, eyes filled with suspicion. The host's face darkened. The hotel's security approached, one of them already whispering into a radio.

Meilin covered her mouth. "Elara... why would you?"

"I didn't," Elara said, still calm.

Zian stepped in front of her, voice low. "At least have the decency to apologize. For once."

Elara looked at him — not with anger, but pity.

He still thought she was the same girl they broke.

But she wasn't broken anymore.

Just waiting.

"I would never be so careless," she said finally, lifting the pendant gently with a napkin. "Especially not with something that doesn't even belong in this building."

"What do you mean?" the host asked.

Elara turned the pendant slowly, studying it in the light. Her fingers moved along its edges, and her brows furrowed.

"I've seen this before," she said. "At last year's museum gala."

"Oh, so now you admit you've had access to it?" someone shouted.

"Silence," the host commanded.

Elara continued, undisturbed. "That jade was a museum loan. But there's something wrong... the one I saw had a fine crack near the dragon's left claw. This one? Perfect. Too perfect."

A woman from the crowd stepped forward.

"I work for the Hangzhou Museum," she said, adjusting her glasses. "I curated the Lin Collection last spring."

The host turned to her urgently. "Can you confirm whether this is the original?"

She took the pendant, squinting at it under the chandelier.

Her expression tightened.

"This... this looks like a replica."

The murmurs swelled.

Elara finally met Meilin's eyes. "That's why you were so confident. You didn't plant the real one. You planted a fake."

Meilin's eyes widened. "I—I didn't—!"

Elara raised her voice slightly, clear and sharp like ice breaking on a lake.

"This wasn't an attempt to steal," she said. "It was a setup. A public framing. The pendant never needed to be real — only believable enough to disgrace me."

The host's face turned to stone. "Then where is the real pendant?"

"I imagine it never left the vault," Elara replied. "Because the thief wasn't trying to take. They were trying to destroy."

The woman from the museum nodded slowly. "There's only one real jade pendant of this make. And it's still registered as locked in our archives. This is a perfect counterfeit... not valuable enough to be criminal, but enough to create scandal."

The crowd erupted. Some stared at Meilin. Others murmured about the Lin family's reputation.

Meilin took a step back. "This is absurd. Anyone could've—!"

"Really?" Elara said, pulling something from her clutch. A hairpin. Simple. Silver. But its tip glistened faintly.

"Glue," Elara said. "The same brand you use on your nails. The same residue I found on the pendant when I touched it. You're careless, Meilin. And I'm not the same girl you used to corner in the hallway."

Zian opened his mouth to intervene—

"Enough," said a deep voice.

The crowd parted.

It was him.

The older gentleman who had been watching Elara all evening — silent, powerful, and now stepping forward like a judge.

His eyes locked with hers.

"You remained calm in a storm meant to drown you," he said.

"Storms don't frighten me anymore," she replied.

He nodded, slowly.

"Good. Because they'll only get worse. You're a threat, Elara Lin."

A hush fell over the crowd.

And Elara?

She smiled.