1 Chapter 1: A Feast That's Not Hers

"Miss, you're back." As Ivy Jackson walks into the foyer, the middle-aged woman who had been waiting at the door greeted her as she did every other day with an unchanging monotone greeting.

A look of accustomed indifference is etched on Ivy's face.

"Mrs. Tian, please bring me a cup of coffee up to my room, thank you." Doffing her black suit jacket, Ivy politely asked the Jackson Family's housekeeper, known as Mrs. Tian, repeating her usual request.

"Alright, Miss," the housekeeper Mrs. Tian takes Ivy's coat, hanging it over her arm, then respectfully steps aside.

Ivy's shoulder is still draped with a black shoulder bag, stuffed not with cosmetics and accessories, but with car keys, a hefty stack of heavy documents, a monotonous light yellow wallet, and an old-fashioned mobile phone.

Ivy slowly ascends the escalator, heading to her room upstairs. Though the entirety of the Jackson Family is currently bustling in preparation for the evening's banquet, what does any of it have to do with her? After all, she can't help. Besides, she isn't the one who was accepted into graduate school. Although she passed the Judicial Examination and became a prosecutor at just twenty-three, she has never brought this kind of joyous atmosphere to her family.

"Mrs. Tian, I want some strawberry ice cream!" Suddenly, a voice, crisp and pleasant, echoes from downstairs. Ivy only pauses for half a second before continuing her ascent, until the voice calls out again, this time with a hint of joy, "Sis! You're back?"

Without a flicker of emotion on Ivy's aloof face, she angles her head slightly towards the girl below, dressed in a sunny, pink dress. Ivy quietly responds, "Hmm."

"Mom and I are having tea in the garden, won't you come join us? Dad hasn't come back from the office yet, please come and keep us company!" The girl is Wendy Jackson, Ivy's younger sister. She is sunny and charming, kind-hearted and innocent. She always approaches everything with optimism and joy.

Ivy simply presses her lips together and answers indifferently, "I have work to do. You two carry on." Without pausing any further, she continues to ascend the stairs.

"Sis really looks tired…"

"Miss, you really work too hard... Wendy, here's your strawberry ice cream. I added two extra spoons of strawberry sauce for you."

"Wow, Mrs. Tian, you spoil me the most!"

"Wendy, your madeleine cookies are ready." Another voice chimes in, it's another maid.

"Really? I wonder how they taste today…"

The voices grow faint until they finally cease when Ivy enters her room and closes the door.

Leaning against the door, Ivy takes a measured breath, tilting her head back as she gently massages her aching neck and shoulders.

She takes off her high heels, removes her black-framed glasses, lets down her long hair from its bun, and tosses her heavy black bag onto her white European-style princess bed. Walking to the side of the bed, Ivy turns and collapses limply onto it, exhaling a long sigh. She feels so tired, as if a car has run over her, every part of her body screaming 'Ivy, you need to rest, you really need to rest.'

Yet she has so many tasks to complete, so many things left unfinished... She constantly reminds herself she's the Second Class Senior Prosecutor of the Clodish City People's Prosecution Court, she's the Jackson Family's oldest daughter. No matter how exhausted she is, she must hold on.

Getting up from the bed and heading into the bathroom, only after taking a refreshing shower did Ivy feel that some of her energy had returned.

Sitting in front of her computer in her bathrobe, Ivy inputs her password. The screen displays a photo of a man and a woman.

The woman is Ivy herself, from the year she became a prosecutor. Still in her prosecutor's uniform, her face looks youthful, her eyes radiating an energetic glow.

Ivy's eyes glance at the man, the man she looks at countless times each day. She studies his handsome face, his gentle demeanor, his neat and proper attire—everything about him is perfect.

Ivy's eyes slowly begin to reveal a hint of admiration. Only in her room, during her free moments, would she dare let these emotions show. So, even after being secretly in love with him for five years, he never knew...perhaps he does know, because Ivy's eyes never reflects any other man. However, she isn't ready to confess her feelings just yet, she's still waiting for the perfect moment.

Ivy unknowingly falls asleep at the desk, only awoken by a knock at the door.

Immediately, Ivy clicks on 'My Computer' to hide the photo on her screen, then softly replies, "Come in."

The door opens, and the head that peeks through is Wendy's.

Wendy cheekily says with a grin, "Sis, why haven't you come downstairs yet? There are so many guests already, and mom and dad are entertaining everyone downstairs."

Only then does Ivy realize she fell asleep while still wrapped in her bath towel after her shower.

"I…I'm just a bit tired, Wendy." Ivy slightly furrows her brows. She doesn't really want to go downstairs and face everyone just yet. She feels...tired. Really tired.

"But today is my most important day, sis. It wouldn't be the same without you!" Wendy runs into the room from outside the door, crouches beside Ivy, clings to her arm and pleads in such an adorable manner that it is impossible for anyone to refuse.

"Wendy..." Ivy sighs helplessly, "Alright. Give me twenty minutes."

"Then you'd better hurry up. I'll wait for you downstairs! I love you the most, sis!" Wendy quickly pecks Ivy on the cheek, then turns around and runs back out.

Ivy minimizes 'My Computer', looks at the photo on her screen and smiles slightly, "You always give me strength, and today will be no different...right?"

Ivy rarely dresses up, and since the banquet is for Wendy, she has no intention of overshadowing her.

A low-key black evening dress with lace shoulders. The dress is beautiful, but plain.

Ivy neatly twists her hair up at the back of her head, revealing her slender, fair neck. Though she doesn't wear any jewelry, her lustrous collarbone is still strikingly beautiful. With the same low-key black high heels, Ivy makes her way downstairs, takes a glass of champagne, and leisurely strolls through the crowd.

"Ivy."

"Miss Jackson!"

"Ivy, you came down..."

"Miss Jackson, how do you do..."

Everyone greets her as they see her, but their greetings are cold. Ivy responds to everyone with a nod. In the eyes of others, she too is cold, and even... aloof and detached.