Hearing the inquiry, Ji Mingshu instinctively looked up.
The man was quite tall, around 185 centimeters, similar to Cen Sen, and he appeared to be about the same age as well. He wore a suit from Chris Chou's autumn-winter collection released this June, impeccably tailored and fitting, exuding a gentle and clean aura, with strikingly handsome features.
But she didn’t recognize him and had never seen him before.
She subtly glanced at Jiang Chun beside her, only to find Jiang Chun also turning to look at her with a blank, innocent, and somewhat dazed expression.
Ji Mingshu: "..."
Little Earth Goose didn’t know him either.
She had initially thought he might be a new face in the circle, trying to strike up a conversation, but it seemed that wasn’t the case.
Too lazy to speculate further, she got straight to the point: "Hello, do we know each other?"
The man gazed at her deeply, his smile widening slightly, his voice clear and resonant like the chime of jade. "Xiao Shu, you’re still exactly the same as when you were little."
The words "when you were little" fell on Ji Mingshu’s ears like a key opening a magical box, inadvertently evoking a flood of faded, yellowed childhood memories. She stared at the man, momentarily stunned, the confusion in her eyes slowly fading as his features gradually shifted and shrank, seamlessly overlapping with a vaguely remembered face from her past.
Yet her voice remained hesitant. "Cen... Brother Cen Yang?"
The man smiled again, nodding straightforwardly in acknowledgment, and added playfully, "It’s a wonder that Miss Ji, with her busy schedule, hasn’t completely forgotten both my face and my name."
Whether from shock or a slow reaction, Ji Mingshu remained silent for a long moment.
Jiang Chun, standing nearby, was no fool. Hearing the surname, she immediately sensed there was a story behind it.
A Cen. This was someone from the Cen family. Judging by his age, could he be Cen Sen’s brother?
But if they were brothers, how could Ji Mingshu not have seen him for so many years and almost failed to recognize him?
In just a few seconds, Jiang Chun’s mind spun a dramatic tale of sibling rivalry and a battle for inheritance in a wealthy family. She nudged Ji Mingshu and whispered in her ear, "Who is this? He’s quite handsome. Is he Cen Sen’s cousin, younger brother, or some half-sibling or illegitimate child?"
The nudge finally snapped Ji Mingshu out of her daze.
But even after regaining her composure, she felt no emotion beyond shock. She instinctively glanced back in Cen Sen’s direction.
As luck would have it, after the fashion show ended, the piano staircase retracted automatically, and the old ship’s runway set began to rotate slowly. In those few seconds, its rotation happened to block the view between the showroom and the seating area.
Ji Mingshu seemed lost in thought, but Cen Yang, glancing at his watch, suddenly said, "Sorry, Xiao Shu, I have something to attend to today and can’t chat longer. Let’s have afternoon tea in a few days and catch up properly."
He took out his phone, opened the QR code interface, and handed it to Ji Mingshu. "This is my WeChat. Add me."
"Oh, okay."
Before Ji Mingshu could even think, she passively took out her phone and added him.
Cen Yang changed her contact name to "Xiao Shu" right in front of her, then shook his phone with a smile. "I just registered my WeChat account after returning to the country recently. You’re my third friend."Before Ji Mingshu could respond, he put away his phone again. "Alright, I'll head off now. Let's catch up later."
Even after Cen Yang had disappeared from sight, Ji Mingshu remained as if lost in a dream, unable to snap back to reality for a long time.
Such a living, breathing person had vanished without a trace as a child, only to reappear out of nowhere after ten or twenty years. It was truly surreal.
Jiang Chun stood beside her, staring at Cen Yang's retreating figure for a moment before turning a serious gaze toward Ji Mingshu and demanding, "Alright, spill it. Do you and this Brother Cen Yang have some kind of secret affair?! The moment you saw him, you froze here like your soul had been snatched by the Black and White Impermanence... Hey, is the reason you're having issues with Cen Sen because there's this childhood sweetheart stirring things up? But come to think of it, how come I've never heard you mention this person before???"
Before Ji Mingshu could even open her mouth, Jiang Chun released her arm and muttered quietly, "Ji's Shushu, you've changed. You're keeping secrets from me now!"
Ji Mingshu stared at her with a look that seemed to say, "Have you been dimensionally struck by the Singer Civilization?" vividly conveying speechlessness and utter bewilderment.
Meanwhile, Cen Sen remained seated in his spot. Before he could clearly see the face of the man Ji Mingshu had bumped into, the rotating runway blocked his view.
Unhurriedly, after giving Zhou Jiaheng his instructions, he stood up and walked toward Ji Mingshu's direction.
However, after the grand show ended, the venue was chaotic and busy. By the time he reached the spot where Ji Mingshu had been standing, she was already gone, and there was no sign of anyone around.
About fifteen minutes later, Zhou Jiaheng sent a firsthand report from the showroom: "Madam and Miss Jiang Chun are trying on clothes. Besides the sets you mentioned, Madam also seems to really like the white dress worn by the opening model."
"Buy it."
Zhou Jiaheng acknowledged with a "Yes," and made no further mention of any man.
Cen Sen didn't ask any more questions either.
Chris Chou's early spring grand show began with great fanfare and concluded with awe and admiration.
For days after the show, entertainment gossip and fashion media continued to discuss it frequently.
The former, however, focused more on the celebrities who attended the show—their outfits, hairstyles, makeup, the order of group photos, seating arrangements, and even the unresolved mysteries of sisterhood and height comparisons in the same frame—all were excellent material for sensational discussions.
The latter delved deeper and more professionally, discussing the significance of Chris Chou holding this show in China, the strengths and weaknesses of the three series in this season's collection, the similarities and differences between this work and his previous styles, which aspects represented continuity and which represented disruption... Of course, the show's design was also frequently mentioned.
For example, in an exclusive interview, Gu Kaiyang's magazine wrote: "Just as December ushered in early winter, Chris Chou launched next year's early spring ready-to-wear collection at the Junyi Splendor Hotel in the capital..."
"Chris Chou once again collaborated with interior designer Ji Mingshu to create the 'Extravagance and Glamour' early spring show, along with an immersive video art installation of the same name to deliver an ultimate sensory experience. On-site, piano stairs and mirrored corridors reflected each other, while the immersive installation transported attendees back to the era of Shanghai's golden age. The rotating ship in the main show area was also uniquely ingenious.""This season's early spring collection, from the runway to the fashion itself, has moved beyond Chris Chou's established style. In combining modern minimalist art with retro Chinese elements, Chris Chou and his interior design partner have delivered a near-perfect answer."
Chris Chou's final two-minute speech of gratitude almost directly pushed Ji Mingshu into the spotlight, elevating her status and prestige in the field of interior design.
Like Zero Degree, many fashion magazines and media outlets, when writing reviews, would instinctively delve deeper into this interior designer. However, after digging, they found she had no other notable works.
Of course, this didn't matter much. They could simply praise her education background and tout her as Chris Chou's exclusive partner. Those who knew she was a top socialite and dared to write about it would even give her the title of "socialite designer."
For a while, flattery poured in like a rainbow.
Before, even when Ji Mingshu did nothing, people would praise her daily for being beautiful, kind-hearted, and having great taste. Now that she had actually done something serious, the compliments could expand in all directions—flat, three-dimensional, and multi-dimensional.
Ji Mingshu couldn't keep up with all the praise. After Chris Chou left, she lay flat on her bed like a salted fish for two full days, her mind racing with thoughts at double speed—
Does Cen's Sensen have any conscience left? When will they beg for my return? Can the little money I earned from this job last until then? Am I going to wait until I die?! Wuwu, work is so exhausting! This little sparrow has endured too much TVT!
Just as Ji Mingshu was lying flat, unwilling to even roll over, Cen Yang, whom she had met at the runway show, sent her a message. He said a friend of his had bought a courtyard house in Xijing No. 3 and was looking for someone to help with the design.
Ji Mingshu instinctively replied, "No, no."
After sending it, she felt too embarrassed to say it was because she was too tired to work recently, so she tactfully explained, "I'm not very good at Chinese-style design, and after just finishing the show, I feel like my inspiration has dried up. But I know an excellent Chinese-style designer I can recommend to you."
Cen Yang agreed, so she pulled out the business card of a designer from another group she had met while recording a show and forwarded it to him.
Not long after, Cen Yang asked her if she had time to meet for afternoon tea or dinner. It had been many years since they last saw each other, and he wanted to catch up.
She had just turned down a design job, so she couldn't keep refusing one after another. Besides, she couldn't find a reason to reject Cen Yang's request. She didn't have many vivid memories of their childhood, but she always remembered that Cen Yang had been very kind to her back then.
Without much hesitation, she replied with a single word: "Okay."
Ji Mingshu's days of lying flat were a blur, and she didn't pay much attention to the date. It wasn't until the meeting approached that she realized Cen Yang had invited her to dinner on Christmas Eve.
In the French restaurant on Christmas Eve, ethereal and soothing music floated through the air. Under the warm orange lighting, the exquisite tableware sparkled brightly, and every detail of the cups, glasses, chairs, and tables exuded the elegance of French style.
Ji Mingshu was led by the waiter to the table Cen Yang had reserved. Along the way, she saw young couples out for a holiday dinner.
Cen Yang raised his hand to greet her from afar, then stood up and pulled out the soft chair for her.
Ji Mingshu sat down, feeling somewhat uneasy.Cen Yang also returned to his seat across from her, poured her a bit of red wine, and asked with a smile, "Do you feel a bit awkward? Honestly, I do too."
After pouring the wine, he pressed the base of the glass and slid it forward, then continued, "Sorry, Xiaoshu. I didn’t think this through properly. It seems like everyone dining out for a fancy meal tonight are all young couples."
Cen Yang spoke so frankly that Ji Mingshu felt too embarrassed to show any discomfort.
She took a small sip of wine and shrugged lightly. "It’s fine. I haven’t had French food in a long time anyway."
Cen Yang nodded and proceeded to order with her.
For people who were once familiar, rekindling warmth was all too easy. The two naturally transitioned from discussing the dishes to reminiscing about their first experience eating French food as children.
Back then, both were young and not very sensible. Ji Mingshu, pretending to be grown-up, stretched out her little hands to cut the steak. Somehow, with a "splat," she sent the steak flying straight onto Cen Yang’s face. Cen Yang didn’t hold it against the little girl and, with a big brother’s sense of responsibility, cut his own steak and exchanged plates with her.
These memories were from so long ago that Ji Mingshu rarely recalled them. But as Cen Yang brought them up, they slowly came back to her, and the more she thought about it, the more she found her younger self both amusing and embarrassing. Not to be outdone, she also recalled some of Cen Yang’s childhood mishaps to counter with.
A full French meal could easily last two hours. Dining with someone like Cen Sen, who seemed to treat every extra word as a loss, always felt both boring and tedious to Ji Mingshu. But dining with someone like Cen Yang, who effortlessly kept the conversation flowing, turned out to be unexpectedly enjoyable from start to finish.
Moreover, the grown-up Cen Yang, much like his younger self, knew exactly how to keep things appropriate. The topics he brought up were casual and lighthearted, never diving straight into heavy reminiscences as if interrogating with endless questions.
It wasn’t until they were having coffee at the end that Cen Yang’s smile faded slightly, and he broached a sensitive topic. "I heard you married him. Is he good to you?"
Although Cen Yang had maintained a harmonious atmosphere throughout, Ji Mingshu had a vague feeling before coming that he would inevitably ask about Cen Sen. Sure enough, the inevitable had arrived.
She also picked up her coffee, took a small sip, thought carefully, and replied with a sentence.
After hearing her response, Cen Yang was momentarily taken aback. After a while, he simply said, "Mm," and casually changed the subject. "Let me take you home."
Ji Mingshu nodded, picked up her handbag, and stood up.
The music in the French restaurant remained ethereal and soothing, and the lighting was still full of ambiance.
One hour, forty-three minutes, and thirty seconds.
Cen Sen sat not far away, lowered his wrist, and expressionlessly took a sip of coffee.
During this season, the Christmas atmosphere was thick everywhere. The French restaurant also had a Christmas tree, and the windows were adorned with snowflake decals. Only Cen Sen sat alone in the corner, out of place amidst the cheerful bustle.
Watching Cen Yang and Ji Mingshu leave the restaurant, he slowly stood up as well.
Today, he had driven himself. Without notifying anyone in advance, he had intended to pick up Ji Mingshu at Xinggang International for dinner and a movie. Unexpectedly, he happened to see her hailing a taxi downstairs as he arrived.
When he came, he had followed the taxi Ji Mingshu took from a distance. As he left, he trailed the white Mercedes ahead from afar.
The first snow of the season drifted down belatedly.
He drove with the window open, seemingly unfazed by the winter wind’s chill.
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