Chapter 9 — Is the Clothing Real or Fake?

As soon as those words were spoken, everyone’s eyes instantly focused on Fu Yue. They started whispering and pointing at her.

“Damn, she’s already a nouveau riche and still can’t afford a Chanel outfit? Leaving the price tag on — is she planning to return it after the party?”

“She always puts on that holier-than-thou attitude, looking down on everyone else. Yet here she is pulling this kind of stunt, trying to look rich when she’s not. What a poser.”

“Didn’t she have the nickname ‘Chanel Princess’ back in school? Don’t tell me she’s been doing this since back then? She’s really that vain.”

Some people in the crowd covered their mouths to stifle laughter, others looked at her with clear disdain, and someone even deliberately raised their voice: “All this just to save face for one night? I feel bad for whoever ends up buying the clothes she returns.”

Seeing all the strange looks and sneers directed at her, Fu Yue’s expression visibly grew more panicked. She lowered her head as her cheeks uncontrollably flushed red, and her gaze darted nervously around.

She couldn’t help but curse inwardly. She had come to this party intending to show off and use the opportunity to cozy up to these rich people — she hadn’t expected her perfect plan to be ruined by Song Qiao.

Thinking of this, a surge of hostility flared within her. That damned Song Qiao dared to embarrass her — she swore she’d find a chance to get back at her.

But now wasn’t the time to think about revenge. Fu Yue quickly racked her brain for a way to handle the awkward situation.

After a few moments of reflection, she suddenly realized she had no reason to feel guilty.

Forcing herself to stay composed, she glared at Song Qiao and snapped, “Song Qiao, what nonsense are you spouting? It’s not like I can’t afford it — how could I possibly do something like that?”

Song Qiao sized her up and pressed, “Then what exactly is going on here?”

Fu Yue’s eyes flickered. She hesitated, seemingly at a loss for words. “I… I just…”

“Too many clothes, so you forgot to take off the tag?” Song Qiao helpfully supplied an excuse.

Fu Yue unconsciously swallowed and blurted out, “Yes, I have so many clothes that I forgot.” Although she felt this excuse was weak, it was still better than saying nothing.

Song Qiao quickly walked over to her. Fu Yue, flustered, eyed her warily. “Song Qiao, what are you doing?”

“Helping you,” Song Qiao replied as she reached out, grabbed the garment, and tore off the price tag. Then she smiled at Fu Yue. “I took it off for you. Otherwise, it’s uncomfortable to wear with the tag on.”

Fu Yue had originally planned to sell the outfit to a second-hand luxury store after the party. Now that the tag was torn off, the resale value would drop by at least 20,000 yuan.

She knew Song Qiao had done it on purpose. Her face twisted slightly with anger. “Song Qiao, this outfit is brand new! You’ve ruined it — I won’t wear it again. You have to compensate me.”

Song Qiao casually glanced at the tag still in Fu Yue’s hand and frowned. “Eighty-six thousand?”

Although Song Qiao wasn’t short on money, she never cared much about wearing luxury brands. Her only principle for clothes was comfort and simplicity.

So this ugly outfit costs that much? She could afford it, but she didn’t agree with that kind of spending.

Seeing that Song Qiao didn’t respond, Fu Yue immediately assumed a lofty posture. “Song Qiao, your family runs a company — it’s just over 80,000 yuan. Don’t tell me you can’t afford that?”

She then added mockingly, “Song Qiao, I don’t want to make things difficult for you. If you can’t afford it, forget it. Let’s do this — while everyone’s here, if you admit you’re wrong and apologize to me, I’ll drop the compensation. How’s that? I’m being more than generous.”

Song Qiao had no intention of apologizing to someone so vain. She thought for a moment — after all, she had splashed wine on Fu Yue — so she’d pay if necessary. Even if it felt unfair, she still nonchalantly said, “Fu Yue, did I say I wouldn’t pay?”

With that, she pulled out her phone. Seeing this, Fu Yue’s lips curled into a faint smile.

Just as Song Qiao was about to transfer the money, Xie Yanli, standing nearby, spoke nonchalantly, “Miss Song, you really are generous. You’re just going to pay without getting the item authenticated first?”

Xie Yanli’s reminder came just in time — Song Qiao instantly realized.

Right, at the very least, she should ask Fu Yue to show a receipt. So she paused and said, “Fu Yue, I don’t want to make this complicated either. Just show me the receipt for the outfit.”

Fu Yue froze, stammering, “I… I threw it away after buying it.”

Song Qiao found that suspicious. Someone as showy as Fu Yue would throw away the receipt? Even though she didn’t wear luxury brands, she knew that such items could be resold at second-hand stores. Why wouldn’t Fu Yue keep the receipt?

“Didn’t you say the outfit is brand new? If the receipt is gone, you should at least have the payment record, right? I’m not making this difficult for you — just show it to me, and I’ll send you the money right away.”

Fu Yue panicked and shouted angrily, “Song Qiao, why should I show you my payment record? That’s private! Just say you don’t want to pay.”

Considering it was over 80,000 yuan, Song Qiao’s request wasn’t unreasonable. Fu Yue’s argument didn’t hold water.

Moreover, although Xie Yanli’s earlier comment sounded like he was mocking Song Qiao, he was actually helping her. Since he had spoken, the onlookers naturally sided with Song Qiao.

They chimed in:

“Fu Yue, if you can’t produce the receipt or payment record, is the outfit fake?”

“Fu Yue, since you say it’s new, how about I drive you to the store so the staff can verify it? That would settle everything.”

“Fu Yue, 80,000 isn’t a small amount — you can’t just scam people with a price tag!”

Beads of sweat formed on Fu Yue’s forehead. Her fingers unconsciously gripped the hem of her outfit tightly as she looked around, not knowing what to say.

At that moment, Xie Yanli slightly furrowed his brow and turned to Jiang Xinhui. “Aren’t you a VIP customer at Chanel? Why don’t you ask your sales associate to check the product code? That’ll clear everything up.”

Since the prince (Xie Yanli) had spoken, everyone quickly agreed. “That’s right, Xinhui, you probably have your SA’s WeChat. Hurry and ask.”

Fu Yue’s face turned ashen. Her cheeks flushed red all the way to her neck as she looked at Jiang Xinhui, unease evident in her expression.

Song Qiao saw Fu Yue’s distress and realized the origin of her outfit was definitely shady. Seeing the growing clamor around her, she suddenly lost interest.

She said to Fu Yue, “How about this — I have your WeChat anyway. You take the outfit to a dry cleaner first; I’ll cover the cleaning fee. If the stain doesn’t come out, I’ll pay you the full amount.”

Fu Yue gratefully seized the opportunity to de-escalate. She coughed lightly and said, “Let’s do that then. No need to bother Xinhui.”

Just as she finished, Jiang Xinhui gently smiled and said, “It’s no trouble at all. Since everyone’s here, I’ll ask right now — that way there won’t be any conflicts between you two in private.”

Having worn luxury brands for years, Jiang Xinhui could easily tell whether Fu Yue’s outfit was real or fake. Her intention was clear — she wasn’t going to let Song Qiao off that easily.

She took out her phone and contacted her sales associate. After giving them the code on the price tag, she quickly received a reply. Upon reading it, she looked up at Fu Yue with a face full of surprise.

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