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  Chapter 151: The Noble Lady And A Cousin

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  As Xanthia made his way to the vil where Dionysius was hosting his birthday party, he found himself encountering an unexpected bit of joy.

  It was, quite simply, the fact that his little excursion, bringing along seven girls - Luciel, Lhoraine, Elena, Xenia, Noemi, Chica, and Marian - to “borrow” a free meal and revel in some indulgent snacks, had resulted in the premature activation of several of his cssmates’ pain coins.

  Among these, the girl named Hannah found herself receiving the most "emotional pain".

  At the very outset, she, alongside Marian, had sought to take the more gentle route, aiming simply to join in on the fun, satisfy their curiosity, and, of course, indulge their vanity.

  To coax the ever-silent Dematero into an invitation, the two could only resort to incessant fttery - it was almost painful to watch.

  As for Hannah, her embodiment of the phrase "from arrogance to servility" was quite exceptional.

  One must remember that, not long ago, Hannah had been an unwavering supporter of Elena. In her eyes, Dematero was nothing more than a “shrimp-headed boy” - a term of derision she had often used when speaking of him. Behind closed doors, her harsh criticisms, the calls for his downfall, were just as bitter as those of Yannis.

  However, luck had been on her side - no one had caught her words on camera, and thus she avoided the public humiliation that would have surely followed, much like Yannis had suffered.

  Now, however, things had shifted. With Dematero proving himself in writing and somehow managing to worm his way into Dionysius’s good graces, Hannah's loyalty began to waver. The once-dismissed “shrimp-headed boy” was now someone she looked at with increasing fondness, her earlier judgment completely reversed.

  As, the small-minded Dematero refused to relent. His interactions with the female contingent of Css 3, save for Xanthia, were nothing short of curt. He had only extended an invitation to two close male friends - Glen and Felizidad.

  For those he cared for, Dematero was courteous and considerate. He had even prepared a birthday gift for Dionysius, and Glen and Felizidad were quick to follow suit, making sure they weren’t simply there to mooch.

  As for Hannah, after Dematero extended his gesture to Xanthia, she finally gave up all hope. She could not fathom that Xanthia - of all people - would dare to bring along a crowd of girls to enjoy the feast. She had firmly believed that Xanthia’s invitation was more a result of Dematero’s influence rather than any special favor from Dionysius himself, who could invite whomever he wished.

  Preposterous, she thought. Xanthia, born of humble origins, a girl who had to work tirelessly to achieve top grades - what right did she have to receive such an invitation?

  Hannah, who had been willing to humble herself before Dematero, found no such inclination to do the same with Xanthia.

  When Xanthia had defied expectations during the monthly exams, Hannah had been filled with disbelief. Deep down, she couldn’t help but assume that the girl had somehow cheated. But ultimately, the truth was simpler: Xanthia had bested her, thoroughly, leaving no room for doubt.

  As the victor, Hannah felt no need to lower her status to please someone like Xanthia. She saw no reason to sympathize with someone she deemed beneath her.

  And yet, on that Sunday, when Xanthia arrived at the birthday party with none other than Marian - the girl who had once been willing to humble herself before her - Hannah was immediately struck by an overwhelming wave of frustration.

  Was it not a mere formality when Xanthia had been asked to bring friends? A polite gesture! And yet, the audacity to follow through with it... bringing Marian, no less!

  Hannah was beside herself, knowing full well that once the party was over, Marian would likely boast endlessly about her fortune in attending Dionysius’s birthday bash, while Hannah, the one left behind, would be mocked and belittled.

  Had she known Xanthia was so easy to manipute, perhaps it would have been worth a try. But even so, Hannah refused to bow down. She had her pride!

  Unable to contain her frustration, Hannah turned to Yannis, who was also reeling. Unlike Hannah, her anguish didn’t stem from being left out of the party; after all, she was used to Elena’s independent pns. No, it was something far more personal - she could no longer ignore how much Elena seemed to care for Xanthia.

  It was a bitter feeling, one akin to wearing a colr, as if she were just another loyal dog in Elena’s eyes. The thought that Xanthia might be slowly, but surely, winning Elena’s heart made her shudder with unease. She could never allow herself to become just another dog in someone else’s pack!

  "Hannah, I think you're underestimating Xanthia," Yannis remarked, offering a different perspective. "What if Dionysius actually appreciates her straightforward nature and begins to value her even more?"

  Hannah snorted derisively. "What on earth are you talking about? That’s utter nonsense! There's no way Dionysius would ever notice a country bumpkin like her!"

  Hannah, venting her frustrations, began seeking others who might share her views. She scoured the dorms for any who might join in her compints, anyone willing to agree that Xanthia’s actions were disrespectful. There was something deeply satisfying in finding those who shared her disdain.

  And, as always, the girls who joined in her grumbling were the ones who had desperately wanted to attend the party themselves, but cked the chance to do so.

  Their gossip, tinged with jealousy and resentment, only served to further fuel Xanthia's unintentional triumph. She had no idea how much she had unwittingly delighted in their suffering.

  ...

  On the other side, Xanthia and her group finally arrived at their destination: the vil where Dionysius was hosting his birthday party.

  This vil, while certainly rge, was not one of those sprawling "private estates" you might imagine, but rather part of an exclusive encve of detached homes, each occupying an expansive plot of nd.

  As they approached the entrance, they were immediately struck by the sight of the imposing 8.8-meter-tall copper gate. The intricate patterns carved into it were the handiwork of skilled German artisans, crafted entirely by hand.

  Noemi, upon seeing the gate, seemed to be unusually fascinated by the lock. It was as though some hidden professional instinct had kicked in- perhaps, the more sophisticated the lock, the greater her desire to challenge it. She entertained the thought that unlocking it might just be as gratifying as stealing a famous artwork.

  Elena, of course, had gone to great lengths to dress up for the occasion, donning an outfit that looked as though it had been saved for special occasions, radiating the refined air of a wealthy young dy. She had even brought a carefully selected birthday gift, as one does when attending the party of someone like Dionysius.

  The other girls were simirly prepared. After all, it was Dionysius's birthday, and his circle of friends was sure to be full of people of high status and wealth. No one wanted to appear cking in decorum or fall short of expectations.

  But then there were Xanthia, Luciel, and Noemi, who, quite frankly, could not have been more rexed.

  Luciel, as usual, wore the same old school uniform from her high school days, her face free of makeup. She couldn't be bothered to dress up. She knew exactly why she was here- to enjoy the food and perhaps score some easy money- and she had no particur affection for Dionysius, despite his retively pleasant attitude toward Xanthia.

  As for Noemi, she was ever the one to blend into the background, always dressed in unremarkable, understated clothes. She preferred being the invisible one, the "sixth wheel," allowing everyone else to shine. Today was no different. In fact, one might have mistaken her for someone who was merely "scoping out the scene" rather than attending a birthday party. Perhaps it was her cautious nature- born of her "Robinhood Thief" persona- that led her to behave so.

  Xanthia, however, took the crown for the most id-back of them all. Her attire was, to put it bluntly, rural and unpolished- something Elena couldn't fathom. She distinctly remembered Xanthia owning a pristine and elegant JK uniform, so why on earth was she dressed this way today?

  In a low voice, Elena couldn’t help but ask Xanthia about her unusual choice of attire.

  She honestly felt that Xanthia was not taking this party seriously at all. Never mind winning over Dionysius; one might argue that his patience with her was quite commendable, considering the way she was behaving.

  “Sister Elena, this birthday party is hosted by Dionysius himself. It’s not that formal,” Xanthia replied with a carefree shrug. “He’s got loads of food prepared, and I heard there's even a DIY barbecue. The more complicated and fancy the outfit, the less comfortable it is to eat and enjoy yourself. The most important thing is to have fun, right? I’m already giving him face by showing up!”

  Her tone was so casual, so dismissive, it was almost as though she didn’t care at all about Dionysius or his party.

  At this precise moment, her bold decration caught the ear of two girls who had just arrived. Both were impeccably dressed, with an aura of refinement that suggested their backgrounds were no less impressive than their outfits.

  One of these girls, hearing Xanthia’s words, couldn’t help but snicker with disdain. She scoffed, her voice dripping with superiority, “Who’s this country bumpkin, talking so big? Is this the kind of pce where you can run your mouth?”

  The girl was Andrea Tan, a young heiress from one of the most powerful familias in the city, the Tan familia. Unfortunately, she was from a side branch of the familia- granddaughter to an infamous well-known figure in the business world.

  Andrea and Matthew, another prominent figure, were cousins, both the children of two brothers. She was a mere three months older than him, and currently a first-year student at Thessaloniki Foreign Language High School.

  She hadn’t interacted much with Dionysius before. Her presence at his birthday party was simply a gesture of support for her good friend, Seranthalia La Magenta, the daughter of the prestigious Magenta familia.

  The retionship between the two was more one-sided than it appeared- Andrea had long admired Seranthalia, whose grace and intelligence made her a sought-after figure among the city’s elite. While Andrea tried to keep up appearances, it was clear she couldn’t quite measure up to Seranthalia, especially when it came to looks and status.

  Seranthalia, upon hearing Andrea’s sharp words, couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. After all, Xanthia’s brash attitude was entirely uncalled for. To attend Dionysius’s birthday party and talk like that? It was simply disrespectful.

  Seranthalia had developed feelings for Dionysius back in middle school, and she couldn’t bear to see him being slighted by anyone, especially not someone as reckless as Xanthia.

  While Seranthalia was indeed part of the upper echelons of society, there was still a gap between her and someone like Susan La Papadopoulos, who had an air of unapproachable aloofness that made her more akin to an ice queen. Though Seranthalia was admired by many in the social circles, she was still aware of the stature and reputation that others, like Susan, carried.

  Seranthalia was naturally a high-status dy with both beauty and familia, which was a rare and valuable combination in her world. And while many "illegitimate" daughters might be physically beautiful, they didn’t have the privilege of funting their familia name, something that made Seranthalia’s position all the more enviable.

  As for Xanthia, hearing Andrea’s harsh words, Elena couldn’t help but notice the aura of nobility that surrounded the two girls- particurly the one who had remained silent. Her aura was unmistakable, radiating the presence of a true dy from a prestigious familia. Her striking beauty, her beguiling eyes, all gave off a compelling air of elegance that was simply unmatched.

  For a moment, Elena- usually confident in her own looks- felt a twinge of inferiority. In comparison, even with her best outfit, she felt she couldn’t possibly compete with these girls' undeniable beauty and presence. It was a sobering reminder of the disparity in status.

  The moment of silence was broken by Luciel, who immediately stepped in front of Xanthia with a protective stance. Without missing a beat, she shot back at Andrea, “If you’ve got a problem with Xanthia, why don’t you go and tell Dionysius himself? Let him decide if we’re welcome here. If he says we’re not, we’ll leave right away!”

  Andrea, considering her connection to Seranthalia and the tter’s retionship with Dionysius, smiled mockingly. “Do you even know who you're talking to? If you really want to test Dionysius’s tolerance, go ahead…”

  Before she could finish, Seranthalia interrupted smoothly, “Andrea, that’s enough. Don’t say another word.”

  With grace, she turned to Xanthia’s group and, giving a polite bow, spoke with an air of sophistication, “Since you’re all invited by Dionysius, you are guests. I won’t do anything to make him uncomfortable.”

  Seranthalia’s casual use of “Dionysius” was a sign of her easy confidence- she embodied the elegance of a true hostess.

  Andrea, her face sour, couldn’t help but mock, “Look at that, it’s the grace of a true young dy. If Dionysius sees this, he’ll certainly be moved.”

  At this point, Xanthia couldn’t help but ask, “Your name’s Andrea, right? And Matthew- what’s he to you?”

  Andrea answered without thinking, “He’s my cousin. What of it?”

  The words struck like a match to a tinderbox. Instantly, several of the girls with Xanthia burst out in ughter.

  Marian couldn’t contain herself, ughing out loud, “Hahaha! So you’re the sister of the ‘King of Poop’- what a small world!”

  Chica followed suit, teasing, “So the ‘Poop King’ has a female cousin too! How delightful. I hope you don’t mind us making fun of your dear cousin, haha…”

  Lhoraine, ever the sharp one, chipped in with a deadly remark, “Andrea, don’t tell me you don’t know that your little cousin, Matthew, who just transferred to our school, has been making quite a name for himself- by throwing poop at the head of the administration? The whole school’s been buzzing about it.”