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墨書 Inktalez
I have finally become my own savior.
In this moment, there is no longer a shadow of Shen Yichen.
My assistant, Xiao Yao, rushed through the crowd, "Sister Yue, the press conference is set for tomorrow at ten o'clock. All media will be present!"
I nodded and looked at the folder in my hands: everything was prepared according to plan, with all materials regarding marriage and the brand ready. The wedding photos from Beijing Fashion Week were also pulled up.
On the day of the press conference, the sky was overcast, casting a shadow over the tall buildings.
The area outside the conference room was packed with cameras and photographers, voices buzzing with excitement.
I wore a custom white dress, my baby bump slightly visible. My long hair was meticulously styled, and my makeup was clean and sharp.
My assistant opened the door; the backstage fans of major live-streaming accounts had already surpassed three million, and mainstream media were watching closely, with several competitors seated in the audience.
I nodded in acknowledgment.
The giant screen in the center of the stage lit up as I walked forward slowly. The spotlight fell on me, and my white dress trailed behind like a dazzling blade in the snow.
"Thank you all for attending the brand launch." I began with a brief introduction.
The audience was almost breathless, everyone waiting for what would come next.
I projected a set of wedding photos onto the big screen—there I stood under a floral wall, smiling confidently and calmly.
Someone asked me if I would regret it after the divorce, if I feared loneliness. I only wanted to say—this wedding, I am marrying myself.
As the words fell, a wave of gasps erupted, and some began to take intense photographs.
The internet exploded with the hashtag LinYueOnlyMarriesHerself, as the most talked-about press conference in the advertising industry took over social media.
I continued, "Today marks the first day of my independent brand and the beginning of the new Lin Yue. I am no longer Mrs. Shen, nor am I anyone's appendage."
I paused for a moment, letting my gaze sweep across all the cameras present.
Everything you want to know is in my hands today, but there is one thing I must clarify—those fake chat screenshots and forged agreements were crafted by someone who is intent on destroying me.
With that said, I shifted the topic abruptly, coldly tossing a stack of documents onto the table: "We have officially reported this to the judicial authorities, and the responsible parties will soon be criminally detained."
The reporters in the audience stirred restlessly, microphones pushing forward to the front row.
"Ms. Lin Yue, has Su Wanqing been confirmed as the forger?"
I stared directly into the camera: "The evidence is all there; the court has already accepted the case. She will soon pay for her choices."
At that moment, police cars and legal personnel surged into the edges of the venue.
My phone buzzed with a bright red notification—Su Wanqing was sentenced to three years in prison for forgery and defamation.
Her mother was ruthlessly exposed by netizens overnight; online violence surged, and ultimately, tragic news arrived—unable to bear the pressure of public opinion, she suffered a brain stroke and passed away.
There was no pity in my eyes.
Everyone must pay for their own sins.
The brand launch event reached its climax.
Finance influencers, fashion bloggers, and advertising moguls sat together, eyes wide open—just a single word from Lin Yue could send the trending topics into a frenzy.
Outside the venue, Shen Yichen's company was on the brink of collapse, with over a dozen suppliers pulling out their investments, and his inbox flooded with debt collection letters.
He appeared increasingly haggard in news photos, while netizens mocked him as a fallen CEO and a scorned man in a tragic tale.
Meanwhile, I led my team in reaching out to various advertising agencies, seamlessly coordinating brand collaborations, media promotions, and live streaming connections.
Returning to the office at night, the darkness pressed against the glass windows.
My phone buzzed with a message from Shen Yichen's profile.
He sent: "Lin Yue, spare me... I beg you."
I scoffed, swiped my finger across the screen, and blocked him without hesitation.
There is no forgiveness in this world, only settling scores.
In just a few months, I transformed from a downtrodden divorcee into an industry star.
A saying circulated in the advertising world: "If you copy Lin Yue, you'll never catch up to her speed."
A colleague handed me some documents. "Sister Yue, are you ready to take the team into international markets next month?"
I lifted my coffee cup, my gaze steady, ready for what lay ahead. Nothing could stop me now.
Outside, the city was alive with lights, bustling and noisy.
In the conference room next door, the television continued to broadcast the news, with bright scrolling headlines: Shen Yichen bankrupt, executives suspected of fleeing.
I smiled faintly as I tucked the divorce certificate and the new brand partnership agreement into the drawer.
The street outside was illuminated by the glow of headlights weaving through the night.
My wedding photo remained on the big screen, my white dress billowing in the wind.
This time, there would be no groom at my wedding.
I had married my future.
Footsteps hurried outside; the legal team was knocking at the door. Sister Yue, the news is heating up again—foreign media wants an exclusive interview with you!
I turned and grabbed a piece of paper, my eyes sharp.
Tell them to meet me at the press conference for the next question.
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