Cen Yingshuang didn’t know much about luxury goods and couldn’t tell if it was a limited edition or not.
“Did the brand give this to you?”
Wu Xi asked.
If the man in charge wanted others to know it was from He Yuzhou, he could have said so in front of Wu Xi.
Why bother calling her aside?
Cen Yingshuang didn’t say much, just nodded.
“Oh my, the brand really treats you like their own daughter!”
Wu Xi’s eyes were full of envy.
“You’re practically their favorite!”
Cen Yingshuang could only give a dry laugh and slowly put on the coat.
The pink matched her outfit well, the cut was crisp, the material soft and comfortable.
The moment she put it on, she was enveloped in warmth and finally felt alive again.
Sister.
The people around them also cast curious glances.
The pressure increased, and she didn’t want to stay here to be gawked at any longer.
Luckily, Cen Yingshuang’s phone rang just then—a timely rescue.
She instantly felt relieved, glanced at the caller ID—it was Màn Jie.
“Màn Jie is looking for me, I’ll go now.”
Cen Yingshuang spoke quickly, waving goodbye to Wu Xi as she walked off.
“Okay, let’s meet up again next time,” Wu Xi said.
Wu Xi stood where she was, staring at Cen Yingshuang’s retreating back, her gaze turning scrutinizing.
The coat Cen Yingshuang wore wasn’t outrageously expensive, but its real value was that it had been personally designed by the brand’s former chairman before his passing.
It was a discontinued collector’s item, impossible to buy.
No matter how popular Cen Yingshuang was, or how well-connected her mother Zhou Yabin might be, there was no way they could have gotten her such a rare coat.
After all, this wasn’t the domestic entertainment industry.
The more Wu Xi thought about it, the more she felt something was off.
Cen Yingshuang’s phone was still ringing as she hurried along, her high heels making crisp sounds on the floor.
Just as she was about to answer Màn Jie’s call, a group of media journalists swarmed up for an interview.
With no choice, Cen Yingshuang forced herself to keep a graceful smile and deal with them.
Just then, Màn Jie appeared, signaled to the staff, and they led Cen Yingshuang away.
The nanny car was waiting at the red carpet entrance.
“What took you so long?”
Màn Jie grabbed her hand, rubbing it hard, clearly distressed.
“Your hand’s freezing!”
Inside the nanny car, the heater was on full blast.
She was a true northerner, but she couldn’t handle the cold at all—it was her biggest weakness.
She collapsed into the soft seat, exhausted.
Màn Jie handed her a cup filled with hot water.
She took a sip, finally feeling her body warm up.
She draped a blanket over her legs, took off her heels, and massaged her ankles.
“Where did you get that coat?”
Màn Jie seemed to only just notice it and asked casually.
Cen Yingshuang closed her eyes and pretended to nap, mumbling vaguely, “The brand lent it to me because I was cold.”
Since He Yuzhou didn’t want others to know, she had to keep his visit to the show a secret—even from Màn Jie.
Worried Màn Jie would recognize the limited edition and start asking questions, she quickly changed the subject.
“Where are we going now?”
Once she was warm, drowsiness set in.
She curled up in the seat, speaking slowly, her head feeling heavy.
“We’ll go back to change, then head to the after party.”
Màn Jie didn’t ask about the coat again, just answered her question.
Cen Yingshuang forced herself to perk up.
“Didn’t I say I wasn’t going? And I promised Yan Li-ge I’d visit his studio for dinner.”
“I thought about it, and you really should go—make some more friends. There are so many top stars and Oscar Winners from around the world there, it can’t hurt.”
Màn Jie tried to persuade her.
“You can visit Chen Yanli’s studio anytime.”
“But I’m going back to Beicheng tomorrow. Who knows when I’ll see Yan Li-ge again?”
Cen Yingshuang pouted, her brows furrowed, obviously unhappy.
“And you promised me I wouldn’t have to go to the party. I don’t like those places—they’re too noisy.”
Chen Yanli’s mother, Ye Mingzhu, was friends with Zhou Yabin, so Cen Yingshuang and Chen Yanli were also close.
Màn Jie knew she could only use work as an excuse to convince Cen Yingshuang.
“Shuang, you have to understand I’m doing this for your own good.”
Màn Jie spoke earnestly.
“Build up your network, and your future will be smoother…”
She trailed off, realizing Cen Yingshuang would never understand—her world had always been broad and easy, there was no such thing as “smoother.”
If not for her own task, Màn Jie wouldn’t have insisted on the after party.
If Cen Yingshuang didn’t want to go, she wouldn’t have to.
“………….”
Cen Yingshuang barely managed a vague sound before a sneeze interrupted her.
Her nose was suddenly itchy and blocked, and she rubbed it several times.
Màn Jie quickly felt her forehead.
“Oh my little ancestor, you’ve got a fever.”
Cen Yingshuang seemed to lose all her strength at once.
Her head grew heavier, her nose more blocked.
“Looks like you really caught a chill just now.”
Màn Jie unscrewed the water cup and held it to her lips.
“Here, drink some more water.”
Cen Yingshuang, wilted like a frostbitten eggplant, let herself be fussed over and obediently took another sip.
She drank too quickly, the hot water catching in her throat.
She coughed twice, immediately making a face, half-complaining, half-coquettish, “It’s too hot, too hot.”
Màn Jie blew on it gently.
“You really are so delicate.”
Cen Yingshuang truly was pampered—she was even allergic to dust.
She’d worn a bit little today, but had only been outside for maybe ten minutes in total, and still fell ill.
“Alright, no need to go to the party now.”
Màn Jie cooled the water and fed it to her slowly.
“Forget about seeing Chen Yanli too. Go back and rest up—you’ve got a flight tomorrow.”
This time, Cen Yingshuang didn’t object, curling up in her seat with her eyes closed, listless.
That night, she stayed at the Castle by the Sea on the outskirts.
Cen Yingshuang’s health was weak, and getting medical care abroad was a hassle, so every trip, Màn Jie always packed plenty of cold medicine for her.
She’d probably caught a chill.
As soon as they got back, Màn Jie made her take some cold medicine.
Cen Yingshuang fell asleep right after.
Màn Jie sat by the bed, pulling the quilt up tightly to tuck her in.
She placed her palm gently on Cen Yingshuang’s forehead.
Still a little warm.
Màn Jie’s eyes were full of obvious concern.
But at the same time, she also breathed a sigh of relief.
Because she had successfully completed her task.
Speaking of the task—it all started before Cen Yingshuang left the show venue, when she received a call from Hong Kong.
The caller was Zhang Rong.
He was He Yuzhou’s special assistant.
He said to find a way to keep Cen Yingshuang from meeting Chen Yanli.
***
Cen Yingshuang slept for a while, and when she woke up it was already evening.
The weather wasn’t good, the sky dark, no sign of sunset.
After taking her medicine and resting for a few hours, she felt much better.
Her head was clear, her fever gone.
But her body was still weak.
She turned over and immediately saw the pink coat hanging on the rack.
Suddenly, she smacked her own head in frustration.
Annoyed at herself for forgetting to ask He Yuzhou for his contact information.
Now, even if she wanted to thank him, she had no way to reach him.
He Yuzhou always said, “next time.”
She knew in her heart—there probably wouldn’t be a next time.
She stared blankly at the coat for a while, then picked up her phone from the nightstand and checked the notifications.
She’d received a message from Jiang Suian more than an hour ago.
[What are you up to?]
[Are you done?]
Cen Yingshuang replied: [Caught a cold, just woke up after a nap. (crying emoji)]
Jiang Suian replied instantly: [Are you feeling better? (patting emoji)]
Cen Yingshuang: [Much better after taking medicine.]
Jiang Suian: [What time is your flight tomorrow?]
Cen Yingshuang thought for a moment: [Around noon, I think.]
Jiang Suian: [Okay, get some more rest then.]
Cen Yingshuang: [I’ve rested enough, I want to chat with you~] She sent a Biki starry-eyed sticker.
Jiang Suian actually started a topic: [I saw on Weibo, that Wu Xi from the company took a photo with you.]
Cen Yingshuang: [Yeah, funny coincidence, we ran into each other.]
As she typed, she opened Weibo.
Sure enough, she was trending again—leaked photos and videos from this show.
She happened to see Wu Xi’s post at the top of her feed.
A nine-photo collage. Seven of them were selfies with Cen Yingshuang.
Caption: [Happy trip to Rome (sun emoji)]
In every photo, Wu Xi was clinging intimately to Cen Yingshuang’s arm, making it look like they were close friends.
Cen Yingshuang also noticed Wu Xi had followed her.
Out of courtesy, she followed back.
The next second, a message popped up from Jiang Suian: [You’d better not get too close to her, she’s got a lot going on in her head.]
From their interaction today, apart from Wu Xi being a little too friendly, Cen Yingshuang didn’t notice anything off about her.
But her brain felt like mush, so she didn’t bother thinking more. She lazily replied to Jiang Suian: [Okay.]
***
After leaving the show, He Yuzhou dealt with some business, then went to Chen Yanli’s studio.
Standing at the door, he knocked lightly, more out of formality than necessity.
Soon, Chen Yanli’s voice came from inside.
“Come in.”
His tone was light, suggesting he was in a good mood.
He Yuzhou put his hand on the doorknob, but before he could turn it, the door was flung open from inside.
It was Chen Yanli.
He was smiling expectantly, but when he saw who it was, the hope in his eyes dimmed noticeably, though he still kept a polite smile.
“What wind blew Mr. He all the way to Italy?”
“What, disappointed to see it’s me?”
He Yuzhou tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it didn’t look like a smile.
He didn’t answer the question, instead getting straight to the point.
“Were you expecting someone else?”
He Yuzhou brushed past Chen Yanli and walked into the studio, asking casually, “Who were you waiting for?”
It had been a while since he’d visited Chen Yanli’s studio.
The paintings inside hadn’t changed much—they were still all oil paintings of Cen Yingshuang.
Chen Yanli must have been working just now, but this time, he wasn’t painting Cen Yingshuang.
He Yuzhou’s question didn’t faze Chen Yanli.
“The protagonist of the painting.”
“So she didn’t come.”
He Yuzhou put his hands in his pockets, strolling over to stand before the painting “Girl.”
“I wanted to ask you—how were the apples?”
His non-sequitur left Chen Yanli confused.
“What apples?”
So he didn’t even know about the apples.
He Yuzhou said nothing, his gaze fixed on the girl in the painting.
Last time, he’d simply appreciated it. But this time, it felt different.
He still found her smile dazzling—just like when he’d seen her call Chen Yanli “Yan Li-ge” on the phone, smiling that same way.
Even though this was just a painting.
After a moment of silence, he finally spoke, his tone flat and calm, not a hint of emotion, but every word was clear and precise.
“I’ll ask again—was she really just your Muse?”
Facing Cen Yingshuang.
He Yuzhou always told himself.
To be patient.
To exchange for her secret, he’d revealed his own.
But in return, he got news that she was planning to confess to someone else.
Only then did he realize—his patience
was completely unnecessary.
He had no patience left to play cat and mouse.