Chapter 15 President Morgan Appears in Person


    Mnie maintained a professional smile as she gazed at the judges‘ panel. One of the figures among the judges was a man


    named Mr. Hans. She remembered him as the father of Lena’s friend—the girl Mnie pped at the bachelorette party. Mnie


    anticipated that the man might try to make things difficult for her.


    Unfazed, she projected her prepared materials onto the screen.


    “Here’s my resume. I’ve tailored it for my participation at the International Socialites G,” Mnie said calmly.


    Slide by slide, her presentation showcased her achievements.


    “| started learning the piano, arts, and music from a young age. | also learned how to dance from the age of nine and excelled in


    various genres, especially ballet.


    “This is the certificate | received from the Royal Academy of Dance at the age of fourteen for achieving the highest level in ballet.


    “And these are photos from my performances in renowned ballet productions.”


    Mnie presented her aplishments confidently, but it was evident that the judges were not interested in hearing her out.


    After a few


    sentences, a judge impatiently interrupted her. “That''s enough!”


    “I''m not finished yet,” Mnie responded calmly.


    Mr. Hans, the most influential figure on the panel, furrowed his brow and waved his hand dismissively. “Enough, please. Don’t


    embarrassCòntens bel0ngs to N?(v)elDr/a/ma.Org


    yourself. What''s the point of showcasing your abilities when you have a disability?”


    “Mr. Hans is right! Who picked her? They must be making light of this event!” echoed a few judges.


    “I''m currently receiving treatment for my injury. I''ll likely recover in time for the ball. Besides, can’t a disabled girl pursue her


    dreams? My story of perseverance could be excellent publicity for Harbor City,” Mnie responded, determined to make her


    point.


    “You''re just trying to justify it!” Mr. Hans eximed, ring at her impatiently. “Are you leaving on your own, or should | get you to


    leave?”


    Seeing the tense atmosphere, the event organizer quickly intervened. “Miss Mnie, you can leave your materials here.”


    “Very well,” Mnie replied, pursing her lips. She had an ace up her sleeve. Why should she argue with these irrational people?


    She was about to step down from the stage when a cold, stern voice echoed through the exhibition hall. “You talk big, but why


    don’t you


    prove your abilities? Disability is no excuse. A girl with a bad leg can dance, or at the very least, showcase their grace!”


    The doors to the exhibition hall swung open.


    Light shone upon a man sitting in a wheelchair. He had a handsome face, but his eyes were sharp and piercing. A single nce


    from him exuded an overwhelming aura of dominance, making one feel weak in the knees.


    “President Morgan!”


    Jeffrey Morgan showed up in person!


    Several judges stood up, treating him with the utmost respect. They hurriedly offered him the center seat on the panel.


    Seeing Mnie’s hesitation, Mr. Hans yelled at her in an attempt to kiss up to Stephen, “What are you waiting for? President


    Morgan asked


    you to dance, can’t you hear? So start dancing!”


    “Please, go on ahead.”


    Stephen’s assistant, William Moore, extended a hand to encourage her.


    Mnie had no chance to refuse; the music had already started. She took a deep breath and, with a strong grip on her cane,


    began to dance gracefully to the music.


    Her grace and fluid movements, developed through years of practice, allowed her to create smooth arcs around her crutch. She


    was like a butterfly fluttering its delicate wings.


    Mnie had a well—defined face, with especially expressive eyes. Although she wore minimal makeup, her presence on stage


    was


    1/2


    +15 BONUS


    Stephen''s eyes flickered. Even he could not help but admit that she was truly outstanding.


    As the dance concluded, the entire room fell silent.


    No one dared to speak before Jeffrey Morgan. To their surprise, Mnie broke the silence first. “What do the judges think of my


    performance?”


    “Ahem.” Mr. Hans managed to regain hisposure and eximed, “It was a mess! There was no grace nor beauty in that


    dance. Stop being an eyesore to President Morgan and get off the stage immediately!”


    “You think | didn’t dance well, Mr. Hans?” Mnie inquired.


    “Only a blind man would think you danced well!” he retorted.


    Mnie lowered her gaze and tugged at her lip. She replied, “Well, if | can get the pass from President Morgan, wouldn''t that


    mean you''re the blind one here?”


    Mr. Hans was caught off guard by her taunt. He red at her, infuriated, and yelled, “Get off the stage, now! You''re out of your


    mind if you think you can get a pass from President Morgan!”