Because when Yang Xueyi walked out in the dress, Ying Yun barely gave her a glance before his expression darkened, then quickly looked away with a disgusted look, as if he’d seen something dirty.
His voice was stiff: “Isn’t there a more decent dress?”
Qiao Qianqian objected, “Isn’t this one very pretty?”
Ying Yun’s tone was icy and blunt: “Not really.”
The dresses provided to models for test shoots at bridal shops are naturally not high-end.
Even serious clients have to pay to try on premium gowns.
The dress Yang Xueyi wore was already quite good for a sample shoot, but to Ying Yun it was still “not really.”
At first, Yang Xueyi felt wronged but soon came to accept it.
Though not long ago Ying Yun explained that his cold tone when calling her a “childhood bride” wasn’t because he looked down on her, but because he found the term disrespectful.
Yang Xueyi knew those were just words to hear and forget; only fools would believe them.
After all, now she was the landlord and he the tenant.
As long as Ying Yun wasn’t a fool, he wouldn’t say nasty things to her otherwise.
Besides, he wasn’t cold to her only when talking about the “childhood bride” thing.
So naturally, the dress on Yang Xueyi was unacceptable to Ying Yun. In his eyes, it wasn’t just the dress—probably even Yang Xueyi herself was synonymous with cheapness.
Though dressed far below his usual bespoke suits, Ying Yun still carried himself effortlessly, his noble aura undeniable.
Yang Xueyi recalled Ying Yun’s previously indifferent gaze and the coldness he showed when clearing up with Mrs. Ying that he would never be with Yang Xueyi—clearly, he wanted nothing to do with her.
Even after losing his fortune and being forced to live under Yang Xueyi’s roof, Ying Yun’s proud heart still thought that associating with her was an overreach.
A prince without his dress suit was still a prince, just waiting for some princess to rescue him. No matter what, he wouldn’t stoop to be the son of a maid.
Yang Xueyi didn’t know what she had been expecting.
Nervously and anxiously, she had hoped Ying Yun would at least say the dress looked good.
She had really thought they could be considered friends.
“Qianqian, I don’t want to shoot with Ying Yun. Can you find me another model?”
Luckily, aside from Yang Xueyi’s group, there was another set of bridal models that day.
Qiao Qianqian quickly talked with the other model and then gave Yang Xueyi an “OK” sign.
The other male model wasn’t as tall as Ying Yun, but had a decent appearance.
He politely greeted Yang Xueyi and generously complimented her: “You look beautiful in this dress. Usually, only a certain body type can carry this wedding gown.”
After speaking, he flexed his arm: “The indoor scenes are the same. We’ll shoot first, then switch to another set later.”
Yang Xueyi smiled and was about to link arms when someone pulled her back.
“Why are you shooting with him?”
Yang Xueyi looked up to see Ying Yun’s displeased face.
Of course.
Only the young master would refuse to be rejected by others.
He couldn’t stand being the one not chosen.
Yang Xueyi didn’t want to argue and simply pointed at the other male model, saying briefly, “He complimented me.”
Ying Yun looked incredulous.
“Yang Xueyi, you take pictures with whoever compliments you? You don’t even know him, and you want to do a wedding shoot together? Then you expect me to shoot with some stranger?”
What does knowing someone have to do with it?
Modeling is just a job.
Choosing someone who appreciates you isn’t unreasonable.
Ying Yun kept finding faults with her.
Don’t think that because he once happily called her “childhood bride” that Yang Xueyi would forgive everything else.
Yang Xueyi had no intention of pardoning him completely.
But before she could say anything, Ying Yun cut in.
“You shoot with me.”
“I only accept shooting together with you.”
Why was he talking to himself?
Yang Xueyi was furious.
She wanted Ying Yun to know that harsh words hurt deeply, and this time she would refuse no matter what.
But just as she opened her mouth to reject him firmly, Ying Yun spoke first.
“Yang Xueyi, you’re very beautiful.”
He glanced at her, then quickly looked away, his voice a bit awkward.
“The wedding dress quality isn’t great up close, but you look good in it.”
“It’s just that the dress is too revealing, and the fabric feels cheap, so it doesn’t look very classy.”
Facing Yang Xueyi’s incredulous gaze, Ying Yun seemed to have nothing left to lose. His face looked like he was preparing for a heroic sacrifice.
“It’s the dress that’s not good, not you.”
They had known each other for ten years, but Ying Yun had never complimented her before.
So faced with this, Yang Xueyi was dumbstruck.
It was like a traveler coming in from freezing cold into a warm room, their body still numb from the chill, suddenly hit by the unexpected heat, completely unprepared.
She stared at Ying Yun, her face flushing red. Normally she shouldn’t be the nervous one, but her voice stammered, “Are you… saying that because it’s awkward to shoot with strangers, you just made that up? You clearly didn’t even want to look at me just now…”
“This dress is too revealing. Do you think it’s appropriate for me to be staring at you?”
Ying Yun’s voice was cold but sounded a little irritated.
“Haven’t you heard your friend? She finally told the truth this time.”
What truth did Qiao Qianqian say?
“Which sentence?”
Ying Yun’s face darkened, as if Yang Xueyi had challenged him to the limit.
He glared at her and raised his tone slightly: “Yang Xueyi, you’re doing this on purpose. Don’t ask. You know exactly.”
She just wanted to ask which sentence, how could it be deliberate?
And how would she know?
Seemingly unwilling to continue the topic, Ying Yun reverted to his familiar cold tone: “I already complimented you, so it’s you and me shooting together.”
“Then tell me, which sentence from Qiao Qianqian was the big truth?”
Ying Yun’s expression turned grim, embarrassed, and his tone was bitter: “Do you really have to know?”
Yang Xueyi nodded.
Ying Yun’s lips pressed flat, saying nothing.
Just when Yang Xueyi thought he wouldn’t answer…
“Every sentence.”
He dropped those words like he didn’t want to say a single word more, then walked over to Qiao Qianqian.
From a distance, his normally pale ears were slightly flushed, as if they had just settled the issue with the shoot partner, leaving Yang Xueyi standing there dazed and unable to come back to herself for a long time.
Qiao Qianqian had barely said a few words to her.
Yang Xueyi slowly recalled:
“A real fairy descended to earth.”
“Wearing it like this, no one can take their eyes off your chest.”
Suddenly, her mind was a chaotic mess, her heart like a spilled painter’s palette blending into indescribable complex colors, making her dizzy in the dazzling hues.
So Ying Yun not looking at her was simply out of politeness, to avoid awkwardness?
But actually, Ying Yun did think she looked good in the dress?
It was just the dress itself that was ordinary?
With her heart pounding wildly, Yang Xueyi watched Ying Yun finish talking, then walk back to her with a solemn expression.
Tall, handsome, and noble.
Just like ten years ago.
Inevitably, Yang Xueyi suddenly thought of the first time she met Ying Yun.
He was wearing a white shirt, answering a phone call, like a character stepped out from a painting.
His facial features were sharper then, and his personality more rebellious—cold but with a hint of defiance.
Yang Xueyi opened the door, and he didn’t even look up, nor did he immediately greet her.
Instead, he was briefly and unexpectedly stunned, then coldly glanced at her.
Out of courtesy, he gave a perfunctory nod before his attention was quickly drawn back by the person on the other end of the call, and he swiftly diverted his gaze away from Yang Xueyi.
The person on the other end seemed to say something funny, and as Ying Yun passed by Yang Xueyi, he let out a light laugh.
With a fragrance ripe with maturity yet still youthful, like a strong wine fermented with allure and charm, he casually enveloped her and entered her fate.
People are instinctively drawn to radiant things.
At first, Yang Xueyi’s admiration of Ying Yun was genuine—from the heart—until she heard him say he had cursed his dog, had bad feng shui, and was unlucky.
Ten years later, Ying Yun came to her again.
Due to family changes, he no longer gave her just a careless glance.
His gaze had to meet hers, and he could no longer push her away.
Yang Xueyi’s feelings turned subtle.
For some reason, she suddenly felt like a thief taking advantage of someone’s misfortune, stealing Ying Yun’s first precious wedding photo experience and getting something worth millions for just a few hundred bucks.
After all, even if Ying Yun had no money, people who loved him would probably come flocking.
She didn’t know who would become Ying Yun’s true new bride in the future.