Chapter 3

It wasn't an earthquake.

The foundation of the Henson family's luxury mansion, worth tens of millions, had suddenly sunk.

"Run!"

The bodyguard pushed Penelope's wheelchair, and Stephanie scrambled out on all fours.

Ten minutes later.

The whole main structure of the mansion caved in, leaving nothing but ruins.

The mansion had collapsed.

But to save face, the Henson family still booked out an entire banquet floor at a top-tier club.

Officially it was to celebrate the return of the true daughter; in truth it was to prove to the powerful and wealthy that the Hensons still had money.

Stephanie threw a cheap fluorescent-green gown at me.

"Put it on."

"You'd better behave yourself tonight. If you dare embarrass the Henson family, I'll break your legs!"

I looked at that clown costume and silently pulled it on.

The banquet hall was brilliantly lit, filled with elegant, perfumed guests.

I was led into the hall like some freak,

and instantly drew everyone's eyes.

Penelope sat in her wheelchair, wearing a couture gown,

dabbing at her tears in front of the socialites and young gentlemen around her.

"Please don't laugh at my sister. She grew up in the countryside, so her taste is a little... unique."

"Actually, with all the bad luck the Henson family has had lately, the master said it's because of clashing birth charts."

"But how could I bear to blame my sister? After all, she was lost out there for so many years."

With just a few words, she shifted the gossip about the Henson family onto me, the jinx.

A rich heir in a bespoke suit gave a cold laugh.

"Dressed like a green-haired turtle, what a country bumpkin."

"I hear the heir is coming tonight? If he sees the Hensons have a thing like this around, won't he be sick to his stomach?"

Another socialite covered her mouth with a fan, her eyes full of contempt.

"Exactly. The blood of the poor is filthy. Penelope, your family really is cursed with bad luck."

The way every guest in the room looked at me.

"Just drinking is no fun."

The man in the bespoke suit picked up a tennis ball from the table and rolled it around in a decorative potted plant beside him until it was caked in black mud.

"How about we play a target-practice game?"

He tossed the mud ball in his hand and pointed at me.

"You, stand there and don't move."

"Make us happy enough, and I'll toss you some money to buy clothes."

I stood where I was and habitually pulled out a fawning smile.

"As long as everyone's happy, I'm fine with anything."

"Smack!"

Before I even finished speaking, a mud-covered tennis ball hit me in the face.

Right after, a second and a third mud ball flew at me.

Someone even grabbed the rotten fruit from the platter and hurled it at my stomach and shoulders.

"Hahaha! Look how stupid she is, she doesn't even dare dodge!"

The whole hall roared with laughter.

These usually lofty elites were now like a pack of bloodthirsty hyenas.

Under the barrage, I instinctively turned a pleading look toward Stephanie.

"Mom, save me."

"It hurts so much."

But Stephanie turned her head away in disgust.

She was holding a glass of champagne, chatting and laughing with a few wealthy wives, as if she didn't know me at all.

Penelope watched my wretched state, a flicker of satisfaction in her eyes.

She waved a hand, and the bodyguard handed over a large wooden sign

with the words I am a jinx painted on it in big red letters.

"Little sister, since everyone's having such a good time, why don't you hang this sign on and crawl a lap around the hall?"

Penelope's tone was gentle. "Just think of it as praying for good fortune for our Henson family."