Despite the rejection, the man asked, his voice full of hope, "Miss Song Ruoyun, why not? This concert is a rare opportunity. There will even be some famous dancers performing. A lot of the women from the song and dance troupe are desperate for a ticket."

Xia Zhaoyun sighed softly. "But I’m already seeing someone. I can’t just go out with a man I don’t know."

The man was one of her admirers, and having never been this close to her before, he discovered she was even more devastatingly beautiful than he’d imagined. He was completely unwilling to let this opportunity slip by.

He glanced aside to see his friends cheering him on and couldn’t stop himself from blurting out, "Miss Song Ruoyun, d-didn’t you break up with your boyfriend?"

"Going to a concert doesn’t have to mean anything. If—if you feel it’s not appropriate, then just take both of these tickets. You can go with a good friend."

As he spoke, he pulled two tickets from his pocket and, amidst the envious glares of everyone around, pushed them in front of Xia Zhaoyun.

No man gives a woman a gift for no reason. They’re usually trying to wear her down slowly, or they believe that accepting a gift puts her in their debt. It’s all a trap, laid one step at a time, to reel her in.

To say nothing of other tactics, all it would take is a little gossip to fan the flames, and any barriers between the two of them would disappear.

Xia Zhaoyun said calmly, "I did break up with Tong Yuanbin. But I’m keeping myself for Huo Tianhao!"

The people at the surrounding tables, who had already been holding their breath to eavesdrop on the gossip, were stunned. The man and his friends were frozen in disbelief.

The man felt deeply insulted, his face flushing red. "Miss Song Ruoyun, if you don’t want to go with me, just say it. Why do you have to drag Mr. Huo into this?"

A woman at a nearby table shot to her feet in a rage and slammed her empty enamel mug down on the table.

The sharp, sudden CRACK of the mug hitting the table instantly drew everyone’s attention. With a series of nudges, shared glances, and pointed chins, the entire cafeteria fell into an eerie silence within seconds.

Satisfied with the scene she had created, she bellowed, "Song Ruoyun, you’re utterly shameless! My brother died a hero’s death! What right do you have to mention him? A loose, promiscuous woman like you, who flirts with men everywhere, isn’t fit to even speak his name!"

He Qingran rushed back. ’How did my girl get into trouble again in the blink of an eye?’

"Who do you think you’re talking to? My Yunyun is beautiful. Is it her fault that she attracts flies?"

"And you, Huo Sitong! You have the gall to criticize someone else when you’re a man-stealer yourself! Do you think hiding behind your brother’s heroic name makes you some kind of big shot?"

Huo Sitong was livid. "He Qingran, why must you stick your nose into everything? What business is it of yours who I date?"

"This is about Song Ruoyun! My brother is lying in the Martyrs’ Park, yet she has the gall to use his name to turn someone down. That’s a sign of disrespect to a hero, and she should be dragged out for a public denunciation!"

The faces of the crowd twisted with indignation as they all glared at Xia Zhaoyun, denouncing her one by one. A consensus quickly formed: she needed to be dragged out for a stern lecture and a harsh public criticism to protect the good name of the hero, Huo Tianhao.

"Song Ruoyun, you’re a terrible person! How could you use Mr. Huo’s name so lightly?"

"Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. If you didn’t give them some kind of signal, would these men be shameless enough to keep flocking to you? You pretend to be so pure while stringing everyone along. How can such a despicable person like you even exist?"

"Mr. Huo was a man of such noble and upstanding character. How could he ever have been interested in someone like you, who seems desperate for a man’s attention..."

The women standing next to Huo Sitong were especially vicious with their insults.

They were close with Huo Sitong and had occasionally run into Huo Tianhao in the past.

If Song Ruoyun was a goddess to the men, the idealized love of their dreams, then Huo Tianhao was a god to all the women in the factory—lofty and unattainable, a sacred memory no one was allowed to tarnish!

Xia Zhaoyun’s lips formed a tight line. She shoved aside the person blocking her path, marched straight up to the woman in the crowd who’d claimed she was desperate for a man, and slapped her hard across the face.

Before anyone could react, huge teardrops began to stream down her face.

Everyone had cried before, and everyone had seen others cry.

But that usually involved a face slick with tears and snot, a mouth wide open and howling—an utterly unsightly mess.

The art of crying beautifully, like pear blossoms in the rain, was something they thought only existed in operas—a skill reserved for the pampered daughters of high society.

But Xia Zhaoyun, with her pale face and the faint scars that still marked it, already looked pitiful enough. When she began to cry without making a sound, not only the men, but even the other women found they no longer had the heart to torment her.