Ji Mingshu huffed and puffed as she finished the remaining half of the ice cream, her cheeks puffing up like a little pufferfish. Shivering from the cold while glancing at her phone, she hurriedly dashed back to her apartment.
Cen Sen sat in the car, his gaze following her slowly until she entered the building. Only then did he withdraw his eyes slightly and step out of the vehicle.
Leaning against the car, he looked up at a small window on the upper floor, where a faint glow once again appeared. Suddenly, he recalled the sight of Ji Mingshu sitting on the stone bench earlier, earnestly eating oden, and his eyes unconsciously darkened.
His golden canary seemed to have quietly opened the cage door, peeking out cautiously.
Ji Mingshu had long forgotten that strange sensation from earlier. Back in her apartment, she rubbed her hands and arms, unable to suppress a shiver.
However, she was in high spirits now. Wrapping herself in a coat, she returned to her computer, secretly putting on Gu Kaiyang’s black-framed glasses, and quickly immersed herself in her work.
Chris Chou was born in a small town in southern China. His father was a painter, and his mother was a well-known Shanghai socialite from the late 20th century. Their union was considered a marriage where the woman married beneath her status. However, the father achieved fame in middle age, with his wealth skyrocketing and his paintings selling well both domestically and internationally. In the 1990s, his painting "Paper Drunk, Gold Obsessed" fetched nearly ten million yuan at a Sotheby’s autumn auction.
Thus, when Chris Chou was just over ten years old, his father moved the entire family to Los Angeles to pursue long-term development.
To this day, the family has indeed become a prominent presence in the North American Chinese community.
Chris Chou himself is also exceptional, regarded as one of the most dazzling rising stars in the fashion industry in recent years.
He is a typical academic designer, having graduated from Parsons. During his studies, he interned at luxury brands under the LVMH Group and the most authoritative fashion magazine in the United States. After graduation, he joined the LVMH Group before resigning to establish his eponymous brand, Chris Chou. In its second year, the brand debuted at New York Fashion Week, and subsequent shows were held across the four major fashion weeks, receiving favorable responses and steadily increasing sales.
His color-block T-shirts sparked a trend on Facebook and Instagram a couple of years ago, becoming a must-have item for trendsetters and fashion bloggers both domestically and internationally. In annual fashion magazine rankings, his color-block T-shirts were consistently voted the most popular streetwear item. Ji Mingshu had even purchased the entire series back then.
This time, his return to China for a show was due to strong invitations and multi-faceted sponsorship support from organizations such as the Fashion Design Association. Moreover, he believed that this season’s designs needed to be presented on the soil where he spent his childhood to achieve the most fitting effect.
Before delving into the relevant information, Ji Mingshu was both surprised and puzzled by the choice of Junyi Splendor as the venue for the major show. On her way upstairs, she even wondered, "Did Cen Sen arrange this?"
After all, there were more than one or two suitable venues in the capital for hosting a fashion show, so why choose Junyi Splendor, a hotel with exceptionally high rental fees?
After reading the materials, her doubts were largely dispelled. The relevant sponsors were wealthy and influential, and their senior executives had intricate connections with Jingjian. Following the principle of "keeping the benefits within the family," choosing Junyi Splendor was quite reasonable.Moreover, the Junyi Splendor hotel on Huating Road has four main buildings, with a glass pavilion and lawn area in the center that are perfect for hosting exhibitions. From the venue size to the showroom arrangements, it is highly suitable in every aspect.
But at Junyi...
Wouldn’t that seem like she was deliberately seeking him out? Cen Sen might misunderstand it as her taking the initiative to reconcile.
Ji Mingshu rested her chin on her hand in front of the computer, thinking for a while, before finally replying to Chris Chou.
There was no other way—the opportunity was too rare for her to give up.
Chris Chou had previously collaborated with Ji Mingshu and had great confidence in her. Once she confirmed her availability, he skipped the trial and finalized the arrangement directly. They chatted online for a while and scheduled a time to meet in person for detailed discussions.
Before the grand show is officially announced, the designer’s work remains highly confidential and can only be discussed directly by the designer themselves.
Moreover, after showing her the relevant design drafts and concepts, the designer would have to take everything back with them.
This meeting was scheduled directly at Junyi Splendor. Ji Mingshu had no grounds to object, as Chris Chou was staying at Splendor during his return to China. After their discussion, they still needed to inspect the actual venue, so the meeting location was perfectly reasonable.
Before heading out, Ji Mingshu anxiously changed outfits several times. Upon arriving at the hotel’s executive lounge, she felt restless and uneasy, fearing that Cen Sen might suddenly appear from some corner, leading to an awkward, silent standoff that would make her want to disappear into the ground.
But as it turned out, she was overthinking it.
The meeting lasted from two in the afternoon until six in the evening. Chris Chou even warmly invited her to stay for dinner at the hotel, yet Cen Sen never made an appearance.
Of course, Junyi operates so many hotels, and his daily work is at the headquarters building. What were the chances he would coincidentally show up here?
On her way back, Ji Mingshu couldn’t quite tell whether she felt disappointed or relieved. Her lipstick had mostly worn off, but she didn’t have the energy to reapply it.
For the entire week that followed, Ji Mingshu busied herself with her show proposal in her apartment, and she was particularly strict and professional about it.
Gu Kaiyang’s magazine was highly interested in Chris Chou’s upcoming show, but Ji Mingshu stubbornly refused to reveal even the slightest bit of information to her deputy editor friend. She clung to her laptop as if guarding against thieves, justifying it as upholding professional ethics.
Gu Kaiyang was so furious that she grabbed Ji Mingshu by the neck and shook her wildly, threatening to kick this ungrateful woman out.
Ji Mingshu, of course, wasn’t intimidated—because after taking on this design project, she had money!
The domestic fashion design scene is still in a state of exploration with a long road ahead, especially in the high-end sector. It’s not easy for Chinese designers to gain international recognition, so when a designer of Chris Chou’s caliber returns to China to host a show, relevant institutions naturally offer their full support.
The budget Chris Chou allocated for the show reached eight figures, and not starting with small numbers like one or two.
Compared to the regular post-show sales, investing this much in a show could be described as cost-no-object.
To create a show worth eight figures, the compensation for Ji Mingshu, the collaborating designer, was naturally quite generous.
However, this generous compensation wasn’t easy to earn.Just on the design plan alone, Ji Mingshu and Chris Chou spent an entire week tirelessly refining it without rest.
Once the plan was finalized and moved into the actual setup phase, Ji Mingshu still had to personally supervise on-site.
“No, a little to the left, more to the left… enough, enough!”
The capital had already entered early winter, and the outdoor wind was bitingly cold, cutting through like icy blades.
Although Ji Mingshu wasn’t a female celebrity, she had long cultivated the same mindset of prioritizing style over warmth. In temperatures close to zero degrees, she only wore a thin black off-shoulder sweater, covered by a light camel-colored trench coat. Her slender, fair fingers were exposed to the cold, their knuckles already flushed red from the chill.
This was her fourth consecutive day directing the runway setup at the Huazhang Hotel on Huating Road.
Although Chris Chou was Chinese, his style had always been very Western. This time, he had unusually incorporated cheongsam and Suzhou embroidery elements into his collection. On one hand, it was a commercial move to cater to the vast Chinese market beyond the design itself; on the other hand, it was to give his mother a birthday surprise.
His mother had lived in Shanghai for many years and adored all kinds of cheongsams in her youth. This season’s early spring collection could also be seen as a tribute to her.
Upon learning about his parents’ long-lasting affection, Ji Mingshu specifically studied his father’s collection of paintings before finalizing the runway theme.
The final theme, “Paper Drunk, Gold Obsessed,” was also a nod to his father’s most famous oil painting of the same name.
For the main runway, Ji Mingshu designed it as a stranded ship from old Shanghai. The hotel’s existing waterside pavilion and piano staircase were preserved, slightly modified and layered to extend all the way to the top of the ship, forming the main runway for the models.
Additionally, to create an immersive sensory experience for the audience, Ji Mingshu collaborated with Chris Chou to design an immersive video art installation named after the runway theme, creating a fully enclosed visual space outdoors at Junyi.
Ji Mingshu also put great effort into the lighting. To achieve the luxurious effect in the design sketches and highlight the runway theme, a series of lighting fixtures were specially ordered from a foreign lighting designer and air-freighted back to the country. The lighting setup alone cost several million yuan.
At this moment, Ji Mingshu was directing the lighting setup. These items were incredibly delicate and couldn’t afford any mishaps. She also couldn’t allow the expensive items she had brought back to be placed incorrectly.
“Move A1 to A4. C1’s position is wrong; it’s not aligned at all. Please reinstall it,” she directed in the cold wind. Seeing that the worker hadn’t installed it correctly after a while, she stepped forward herself. “Here, yes, yes, just a little more to the left.”
Once the position was correct, she took two steps back to assess.
Before she could nod in satisfaction, the worker’s expression suddenly turned fearful. “Watch out—!”
Before his words fully left his mouth, the sound of a crystal chandelier shattering echoed from where Ji Mingshu stood. After the loud “bang,” there was a series of dense, sharp cracks.
The scene erupted into successive gasps of shock!
Ji Mingshu’s mind went blank for a moment. Before she could process what had happened, someone pulled her forcefully aside.She was wearing ten-centimeter stiletto heels, and with that sudden pull, an excruciating pain shot through her ankle almost instantly, so intense it nearly made her vision go dark.
Soon after, another deafening crash of shattering glass echoed! But the next second, her ears were covered, and her head was pressed into someone’s embrace.
Compared to that loud noise, what she heard more clearly was the heartbeat from the chest she was leaning against.
Thump, thump, thump.
Powerful and familiar.
In the biting wind of early winter, she caught the comforting scent of fir.
Her nose was red from the cold, but her eyes remained wide open, unblinking—as if she were in a daze, or perhaps clinging to the moment.
Cen Sen’s bodyguards rushed forward immediately, while the executives accompanying him on the inspection urgently called for staff to handle the situation and stepped forward to express concern.
"Mr. Cen, are you alright?"
"Oh my, Mr. Cen, your hand is bleeding!"
"Hurry, call an ambulance!"
Someone muttered under their breath, "He wasn’t hit, why call an ambulance?"
After a long pause, Cen Sen responded calmly, "I’m fine."
He still held Ji Mingshu tightly, not even lifting his gaze.
Zhou Jiaheng stood below, steadying his own heartbeat while maintaining a composed demeanor as he politely asked the executives to leave.
Only after everyone had gone did Ji Mingshu slowly come back to her senses.
She gave a slight push, and Cen Sen loosened his grip accordingly.
He was wearing a black wool coat that day, which made his skin appear almost translucent. His hand hung down, blood mixed with shards of glass dripping steadily onto the intentionally weathered deck of the ship, a sight that was both shocking and unsettling.
Ji Mingshu felt flustered and at a loss. After a moment of hesitation, she remembered the decorative silk scarf tied to her bag, untied it, and held it out to him.
He didn’t take it. Instead, he extended his hand toward her, his gaze calm.
She paused briefly, then hesitantly placed the scarf over his wound and tied it into a knot.
—Finally, they arrived at the long-awaited, awkwardly silent, cringe-worthy moment Ji Mingshu had been anticipating.
Summoning her courage, she met Cen Sen’s gaze. After what felt like an eternity, she suddenly blurted out, "My scarf is really expensive."
"And... that lamp was expensive too. What do we do now that it’s broken?"
After saying this, Ji Mingshu resignedly closed her eyes, wishing she could go back ten seconds and sew her own mouth shut.
But just as she closed her eyes, a calm, clear male voice sounded in front of her, "I’ll compensate you."
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