Master Zhao's voice had barely faded when the onlooking crowd all heard it, and they turned to look at me one after another.
In their eyes was a mix of scrutiny, disdain, and contempt.
Some faces I even recognized from Zhao Mengxi's engagement party; their malicious gazes made me feel as if thorns prickled my back.
Having attended Zhao Mengxi's engagement party, where Master Zhao brought me along, they thought Master Zhao had acknowledged me as his partner, preparing to marry me, so they all flattered me by calling me Mrs. Zhao.
But they all knew damn well that I was just a mistress that Master Zhao kept on the side.
Now, in front of so many people, Master Zhao was making me toast and apologize to a business associate, and no one understood the implication better than I did.
If I were the legitimate wife, which man would let his wife serve tea, pour water, and admit wrongs to others? After all, out in public, the dignity of one's wife is tantamount to one's own dignity.
