A little after nine, Ying Yin returned home with the contract bearing Shang Shao’s handwritten signature.
The newly revised terms stipulated that she must meet with Shang Shao at least three times a week, each session lasting no less than an hour, excluding travel time. Given the nature of her work – where she might be confined to a film set for months at a time – a flexible system was adopted: any missed days would be made up in a concentrated block during her time off.
…Extremely meticulous. Practically a labor contract.
Junyi and Tiwen were in the home theater watching a comedy, curled up on the sofa with potato chips, laughing uncontrollably. When they saw Ying Yin push the door open, they both jumped up. “We thought you weren’t coming back today!”
Ying Yin kicked off her slippers. “If I didn’t come back, where would I sleep? Scoot over.”
Junyi moved aside, making room for Ying Yin in the middle. “Did Mr. Shang bring you home?”
“No.”
“Mr. Shang doesn’t even take you home himself,” Junyi protested.
“You think everyone has as much free time as you do?” Ying Yin snatched the bag of chips and munched absentmindedly.
Besides, having just signed the contract and received thirty million, she suddenly felt a bit awkward.
Taking favors makes one soft; taking money makes one’s hands weak. Now that she’d taken his money and entered an employer-employee relationship with him, he had truly become her sugar daddy. Her confidence dropped a few notches.
At dinner, she almost stood beside him to pour tea, serve dishes, and hand him things -until Shang Shao put down his chopsticks and said coldly, “Act normal.”
After the meal, she accompanied him for a walk in the backyard. The sea breeze was pleasant, a fragrance drifted through the trees, and the mood was just right – but perhaps because their earlier loss of control at the whale shark hall had been too embarrassing, both remained silent.
After half an hour of walking, Ying Yin hesitated, then spoke softly, “Mr. Shang…”
Shang Shao said, “Go ahead.”
“This one hour today… does it count as attendance?”
Shang Shao: “…”
He hadn’t expected that after watching her brood the entire way, this was what she’d been calculating.
Ying Yin twisted her fingers. “Because there are two banquets in the next two weeks, so if it doesn’t count as attendance, then…”
Under the hazy moonlight, Shang Shao didn’t wait for her to finish and gave her a faint glance. “Feeling shortchanged, are we?”
“…”
“Should I arrange a time clock for you?”
Ying Yin, being polite in the tone of an employee to her boss, replied, “That won’t be necessary. I trust you, Mr. Shang. Besides, Uncle Kang keeps records, doesn’t he…”
Shang Shao paused for two seconds, then turned on his heel. “…Let’s go.”
“Huh?”
Shang Shao’s tone hardened. “You may go home now.”
Ying Yin could tell – she had probably annoyed him again.
Had she ruined his mood?
Once back at the house, Shang Shao indeed didn’t bother much with saying goodbye. He simply had Lin Cunkang arrange a car to take her home, and that was the end of it.
As the car drove her away, Ying Yin turned to look up at the massive villa. The study on the second floor was brightly lit. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, she could see him standing behind a long desk, practicing calligraphy – alone, quietly, with a solitary air.
Back in the home theater, the comedy on the screen was warm and bright, reaching its happy ending.
Ying Yin chewed her potato chips slowly.
For some reason, the image of him practicing calligraphy alone lingered in her mind. His study was so large, the floor-to-ceiling windows a dozen meters wide, and the desk stood in the center, making the surrounding space feel vast and empty.
“Tiwen,” she called out.
“Yeah?”
“Has Mr. Shang always been a loner?”
Tiwen’s feelings toward her were now very complicated.
In a way, Shang Shao was her idol. No one among the younger generation of the Shang family didn’t admire or respect him. And now, he was involved with a female celebrity – which gave Tiwen the devastating feeling of watching her idol fall from grace.
…Oh well, adults just using each other for their own needs. No one was above anyone else.
“Back in Hong Kong, Mr. Shang had his friends and family around him. Now that he’s just arrived in Ning City, aside from the butler and servants he brought over from Hong Kong, he doesn’t have anyone familiar nearby. That’s why he seems to keep to himself.”
Zhuang Tiwen replied, “Besides, he’s very busy with work and rarely has time to himself.”
“What was his life like back in Hong Kong?”
“Frequent business trips. Shangyu’s business is vast and mostly involves high-level collaborations, so he travels often for meetings, forums, summits, and such. He also stays occasionally at the Singapore headquarters, or in South America or Africa for three to five months at a time. He rarely gets time off except at the end of the year.”
Cheng Junyi let out a soft “Wow.” “Tiwen, you sure know a lot about him.”
The excuse of Chen Youhan was always useful. Tiwen hugged a cushion and shrugged. “Because GC is Shang’s closest partner in Ning City. You hear enough, and you just pick things up.”
“So if he’s that busy, does that mean he has no time to spend with a girlfriend?”
Tiwen chuckled and teased, looking at Ying Yin, “Afraid he won’t have time for you?”
Ying Yin blushed, grabbed a handful of chips, and firmly denied it. “No, of course not. I’m not his girlfriend.”
Tiwen figured as much. She and Shang Shao were likely in a purely transactional relationship, with no feelings involved – or at least, not yet.
“He does have time. And if he doesn’t, he makes time,” Tiwen said casually. “Of course, that’s just what I’ve heard. I haven’t seen it myself.”
“I wonder what Mr. Shang is like in love?” Junyi tilted her head, as if trying to picture it.
“Hmm…” Tiwen recalled something. “His girlfriend liked fireworks. The New Year’s fireworks display at Victoria Harbour a couple of years ago was spectacular and grand – unprecedentedly so. Hundreds of thousands of people at the harbor saw it, but they didn’t know that he actually set them off for her.”
Junyi’s face fell, because she realized these stories lay beyond her imagination.
Truth be told, she could still picture that kind of grand, beautiful spectacle – the gentle sway of the harbor waters at Victoria Harbour, the solemn and distant chime of the New Year’s bell, the sky lit up with golden streams and pink-purple fireworks illuminating the countless upturned faces below, each pair of eyes wide with wonder.
But Cheng Junyi didn’t gasp in awe. Instead, her heart tightened, and she quietly glanced over at Ying Yin.
“What’s wrong?” Tiwen asked with a smile. “It’s not that extravagant, really – just a few million.” She shot a glance at Ying Yin and added in a gentle tone, “Not even half the price of that ring of yours.”
Ying Yin’s smile was a mask held on with double-sided tape. She gave a small “mm,” and said, “Exactly. How silly. Why set off fireworks? If it were me, I’d just take the jewelry and the money.”
Junyi breathed a sigh of relief, inwardly calming down. She stood up and tugged at Ying Yin. “You should get some sleep. You have to go to Chu Anni’s for a fitting in a couple of days – be careful not to let your face puff up!”
Ying Yin let herself be pulled to her feet and obediently went off to shower.
As she unhooked her white lace bra, her mind uncontrollably drifted to his hands.
Those hands, like jade fan ribs – long and slender.
They looked like such ascetic hands. Meant to hold a fountain pen, to sign a beautiful signature, to fill out a check. Not meant to undress a woman.
After her shower, Ying Yin got into bed but couldn’t fall asleep at all. One moment she thought of the solitary figure of him practicing calligraphy, the next moment she thought of the fireworks over Victoria Harbour.
She hadn’t mentioned it earlier, but on New Year’s Day two years ago, she had actually been at Victoria Harbour – accompanying Ying Fan on a shopping trip. Ying Fan stood at the entrance of the mall, holding bags of various luxury purchases, her eyes, lined with fine wrinkles, sparkling brightly in the glow of the fireworks.
She said, “Such beautiful fireworks.”
Ying Yin, wearing a mask, looked up with her. The sky was so lively and bright.
So she had once gazed up at his love from below. She had been one of the hundred thousand passersby beneath his grand romantic gesture.
Half an hour later, Ying Yin gave up trying to sleep and called her agent, Mai Anyan.
When Mai Anyan picked up late at night, her first reaction was to open Weibo and check the trending searches. Hesitantly, she asked, “…Did something… happen?”
“Not yet.”
“Not yet…” Mai Anyan sounded utterly resigned and, well-trained, asked, “What are you trying to tell me?”
“I’m in a relationship.”
Mai Anyan: “…”
Although many celebrities hide their relationships from their agencies, leaving both their agents and the entire internet to find out simultaneously via trending searches, that’s not a smart move. Aside from scrambling frantically through crisis management and paying astronomical breach-of-contract penalties, there’s no benefit to it.
“Dear lord.” Mai Anyan sighed. He didn’t lose his temper outright but sounded a bit weary as he said, “It’s definitely not Song Shizhang, is it.”
“How do you know?”
“How do I know?” Mai Anyan almost laughed in exasperation. “Last time, Song Shizhang got you that Hayworth gown. Sure, the trending searches were ugly, but the photos from that event went viral. Anne was pretty confident she could get you another one, but it didn’t work out – heard Song Shizhang personally said something to Hayworth.”
Ying Yin listened in silence, not too surprised. “I’ll go see Anne tomorrow and look at other options. I’ve made it clear to Song Shizhang. I won’t accompany him to any more red carpets or banquets.”
“No wonder.” Mai Anyan clicked his tongue. “You’ve never caused me trouble in twelve years in the business. And now you go and offend someone big. What can I even say?”
Mai Anyan and Ying Yin went way back, to when she had just started out and he was still a junior agent. Having come up together all these years, he knew Ying Yin’s character better than anyone.
She was smart. She understood that you have to give something up to get something. Being a celebrity meant enjoying the spotlight but also tolerating the ugliness behind it. Dinner parties, cocktail receptions – she came whenever called. She knew when to command a room and when to humble herself.
Truth be told, her flattery, her enthusiasm, her deference – they were all surface-level and phony. Everyone knew she was putting on an act. But for someone as proud and beautiful as her to bother putting on that act at all – that, in itself, was a satisfying display of pragmatism, a tantalizing form of submission.
That Ying Yin would harden her heart and risk offending Song Shizhang caught Mai Anyan completely off guard.
“He won’t do much,” Ying Yin said, shrugging one shoulder as she tucked her phone under her ear and flipped through a full-color film magazine with both hands. “At most, he’ll have a word with the production team and make my life a little harder.”
Her tone was completely nonchalant, but Mai Anyan nearly exploded. “‘At most’? ‘Make your life a little harder’ – isn’t that enough?! Your streaming numbers have been dropping for two years now. Why do you think Greta only renewed you as a fragrance ambassador when your contract expired? You know the answer. And now you’re picking a fight with Song Shizhang?” Mai Anyan shook his head and let out a long breath. “Honestly, I don’t get you. You’ve always been so smart. So patient.”
“Anyan, your commercial approach drove away Mr. Ke. But after he left you, he kept getting film offers, and he didn’t have to get dragged on social media for it. If Mr. Ke could make that work, why can’t I?” Ying Yin asked him calmly in return.
Mai Anyan’s voice turned cold. “He could leave because Mr. Tang went easy on him. Your buyout clause – let me remind you – is 130 million, not Ke Yu’s 20 million. Got it?”
Ying Yin had started her career early and had been with Chenye for twelve years, renewing her contract three times. The last time, Chenye had raised her profit share to a rare forty percent – but the flip side was that astronomical buyout fee.
“Thanks for the reminder. Now I know what I’ll be having nightmares about tonight,” Ying Yin said lazily, flipping through the pages of the magazine with undivided attention.
“Besides, what kind of relationship does Mr. Ke have with Shang Lu? Do you have that kind of connection? That kind of backing?” Mai Anyan pressed aggressively.
Ying Yin bit her lip, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly, but she obediently said, “No.”
“Now tell me who you’re dating,” Mai Anyan said coldly. “And don’t tell me it’s an actor, or I’ll lose it.”
Fans of actresses generally cannot accept their idol dating a male actor in the industry. In their eyes, that’s a sign of lacking ambition, falling for love, being a lost cause – especially given the professional heights Ying Yin had reached. Unless it was someone of Ke Yu’s caliber, a Grand Slam Best Actor, no actor would be acceptable.
If Ying Yin were really dating an actor, her popularity would drop an entire tier.
Ying Yin said casually, “A regular person. Not in the industry.”
“A regular person!” Mai Anyan slapped a hand to his forehead. “My God. You offend a big shot, and you end up with a regular person? You really know how to do the math!”
Ying Yin let out a soft laugh, lazy and coquettish. “Yes, yes, I know. Bear with me, okay?”
While she was bickering with Mai Anyan, Shang Shao was also on the phone at his end.
Tiwen received his call in the dead of night and was so horrified she scrambled out of bed in one motion.
Shang Shao asked, “Asleep?”
Tiwen deliberately asked, “Which one?”
Shang Shao wasn’t having it. “Don’t play games.”
Ti Wen didn’t dare go too far with him. She drawled her report. “She’s asleep, she’s asleep – went to bed early…”
Shang Shao acknowledged with a sound and instructed her, “Don’t tell anyone about this between her and me for now.”
“I know, I know. I won’t tell a soul.” Tiwen hesitated. “Shao gege, um… the Victoria Harbour fireworks the year before last… those were yours, weren’t they?”
“How could they be.”
“Huh?” Tiwen was confused. “No? But during the New Year’s, I heard…”
“Really, no.” Shang Shao’s voice was cold with a faint hint of helplessness. “Why are you asking?”
“No reason. Just suddenly remembered…” Zhuang Tiwen sounded very guilty. “I might have just spread a little romantic rumor on your behalf…”
Shang Shao: ”…”
“It should be fine, right?” Tiwen tried to make up for it. “Anyway, Miss Ying is just playing along with you for appearances. It’s not like she’ll get jealous.”
“What did she say?” Shang Shao asked, his tone revealing nothing.
“She said it was silly – fireworks just go off and disappear. If it were her, she’d only want money and jewelry.”
Shang Shao nodded. The corners of his lips lifted very slightly, but he didn’t speak for a moment.
“She’s a smart woman,” he finally said.
Zhuang Tiwen couldn’t see his expression from where she was. All she knew was that his voice sounded normal.
She giggled and changed the subject. “Since I’m playing undercover for you, shouldn’t I get paid double?”
“I never asked you to play undercover,” Shang Shao said with a faint, almost imperceptible smile. “And don’t bother sounding out her feelings for me in the future. I don’t need to know.”
After hanging up, he placed his brush on the rest and looked down at the characters on the rice paper for a while.
「A man of honor guards his solitude.」
He had been writing those four words all night.
The ink on the paper was still wet. Shang Shao pressed the switch – the bright lights flickered once, then plunged into darkness – and left alone, without summoning anyone.
On the morning of the third day, Ying Yin arrived at Chu Anni’s studio.
Celebrity styling studios are always overflowing with clothes, shoes, and accessories. Sometimes a single room holds hundreds or even nearly a thousand items, with a dozen styling assistants working day and night to catalog, steam, and photograph everything. No matter how high-end the ready-to-wear or how exclusive the couture, their fate is merely to hang on garment racks.
Chu Anni also represents many other artists, but today was dedicated solely to Ying Yin. The largest studio had already been arranged, with three racks on three sides filled with dresses – all options for her.
The lookbook had already been sent to Zhuang Tiwen beforehand. Ying Yin had looked it over and had a general idea. She had done her best and hadn’t cut corners, but even the most capable hands can’t cook without rice.
“I was originally planning to borrow from Hayworth. I’d already gotten in touch with them, and they were actually very happy with the last photos, but…” Chu Anni’s expression turned troubled.
“I know. Anyan told me last night.”
The deep autumn morning was cold. Ying Yin took off her thin wool coat, revealing the slip dress underneath – semi-sheer. It was her lazy shortcut, since she was going to be trying on clothes anyway.
“For an occasion like the Fashion Gala, given your status, you absolutely need to wear couture. But I’ve asked everyone I can, and…”
Chu Anni swiped through the lookbook on her iPad and handed it to her. “Ready-to-wear is fine. I can provide runway pieces, and there are also a few off-season looks. But you need to be mentally prepared – ready-to-wear just can’t compare to the intricate craftsmanship of couture.”
“What about that Musel from last time?” Zhuang Tiwen asked.
“Musel did proactively offer some gowns. But first, Musel’s couture line was relaunched under a new creative director. They’re not yet members of the French Couture Federation – just guest members. So they can’t use the term ‘haute couture.’ If you wear it and some blogger wants to nitpick, they’ll find a way.”
Junyi nodded earnestly. “They’ll say you’re pretending to be something you’re not.”
“And the second reason?” Tiwen asked.
“Second, I don’t think this season’s Musel gowns are impressive enough. In terms of tailoring, craftsmanship, and materials, they’re just average. Of course, with your figure and presence, you wouldn’t look bad in them either, but… you’d be overshadowed by others.”
Chu Anni gave a serious analysis and comparison. “The ready-to-wear or independent designer pieces I’ve picked out for you will have more presence than Musel.”
“So we have two options,” Junyi summarized. “Wear Musel’s couture line but get snide remarks, or play it safe with ready-to-wear or an independent designer, sacrifice a bit of prestige, but at least look good.”
“What about the Starlight Diamond Awards?” Ying Yin asked.
The Starlight Diamond Awards, like the Fashion Gala, was a major event. The Fashion Gala was hosted by Moda, a top women’s fashion magazine, while the Starlight Diamond Awards was hosted by another top magazine, Starlight. The two were fierce rivals, especially in mainland China. Most celebrities wouldn’t favor one over the other – going to one but skipping the other.
“The Starlight Diamond Awards…” Chu Anni paused. “Same situation.”
Cheng Junyi cut to the truth. “Zhao Manman is so childish. She’s in her forties, yet she goes to all this trouble to gang up and isolate you.”
Chu Anni gave an awkward smile.
It was like that popular kid in class rallying all the other top students to refuse to play with you. Of course, Ying Yin still had plenty of options, but they were all second-best.
Thanks to Zhao Manman’s connections and influence among magazines and luxury brands’ PR agencies in China, this one-sided blacklist wouldn’t even be noticed by outsiders. All they would see was that Ying Yin’s outfits had inexplicably started becoming uglier, tackier, and more ordinary.
“I picked out a few looks,” Ying Yin said. She was never one to stand around worrying. “Let’s start with a fitting,” she instructed decisively.
She headed into the fitting room, but Tiwen’s expression remained serious.
Neither option was good.
She had done her homework, reviewing Ying Yin’s past outfit roundups and collecting commentary from major fashion bloggers. The general consensus, she could see, was that people were still quietly waiting to see what would happen next. The global premiere of the Hayworth couture piece last time had, more or less, bought Ying Yin some time.
If she failed to follow up at this year’s Fashion Gala, the rumors would be confirmed.
Ying Yin was a prodigy-level Best Actress, yet she was being held hostage by the whims of the fashion world – all because of a damn dress. Subjected to mockery, exclusion, and snide remarks.
Tiwen was not happy about it.
Why should she be?
Getting a couture piece wasn’t even that difficult. And these days, the leading western celebrities were no longer competing over who could wear the latest couture first – it was all about vintage couture.
And vintage couture? Tiwen knew someone who had plenty.
That someone was the matriarch of the Shang family, Shang Shao’s mother – Wen Youyi.
The number of brand clients registered with the French Couture Federation worldwide is fewer than two thousand. Among those two thousand – aside from the Beverly Hills socialites active on social media or the Middle Eastern princesses – most are very low-key. Their family wealth often doesn’t even appear on the Forbes rankings.
Wen Youyi was one of those two thousand. The exact size of her couture collection had never been made public, but Tiwen knew it was five thousand pieces – placing her among the top collectors globally. Her collection wasn’t just dresses and gowns; it also included high jewelry, over a hundred museum-grade pieces, and even one-of-a-kind items once worn by Napoleon himself.
Shang Shao was on his way to the company when he received a call from Zhuang Tiwen.
He glanced at his watch. Nine in the morning.
The morning hours are the most productive of the day, yet his cousin was on the phone giving him a detailed, point-by-point lecture about fashion galas and dresses.
Seeing him on the phone, Lin Cunkang turned down the international political and economic news on the radio.
Tiwen’s voice was deliberately hushed. “So that’s the situation. How about… you borrow a dress from Auntie?”
Shang Shao understood the gist of it. His reaction was indifferent. “Not the right time.”
Four words – both a refusal and a reason.
Tiwen was speechless for a moment, then let out a sullen “Oh.” “Then buy her one… no, that won’t work either. The production lead time is too long. So you’d have to borrow. Then…”
She spoke in a negotiating tone. “How about you help her borrow one?”
Shang Shao: “…”
Zhuang Tiwen herself realized how absurd that sounded.
Asking the heir of the Shang family to borrow a couture gown… People would laugh themselves to death.
“Forget I said anything.”
Just before hanging up, Shang Shao showed a trace of detached concern. “This matter,” he paused, then asked with an air of indifference, “is it very important?”
“Not terribly, but not trivial either. She’ll get mocked by netizens for a while,” Tiwen shrugged. “But it’s fine. There’s always another day. She can make up for it later.”
Shang Shao was silent for a moment. “How is she doing?”
“Trying on clothes,” Ti Wen glanced back at the fitting room. “She’ll probably be at it all day. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”
Ying Yin really did try on clothes all day.
Makeup and styling need to be seen as a whole to have the full effect. Chu Anni clearly wanted to serve Ying Yin well, to retain her as a client – and perhaps also felt a bit guilty – so she put in a hundred and twenty percent effort. For every look, she provided painstaking detail on accessories and hairstyles, so that Ying Yin could make the most informed choice.
But who among them didn’t know deep down that the real issue had nothing to do with whether she looked beautiful? She could make anything look beautiful.
“Maybe we should go with Musel after all. At the very least, it’s a legitimate blue-blood couture line. Two years from now, when they’re back in the federation, who’s going to remember that this year’s dress wasn’t actually registered?” Zhuang Tiwen offered a pragmatic suggestion.
“But if someone twists the narrative and says you wore fake couture…” Chu Anni was a bit worried.
Although “fake couture” usually refers to counterfeits, if anti-fans played the game of swapping concepts, it could still hurt Ying Yin’s reputation.
“Let’s go with Musel. It’s easy to add flowers to a brocade, but hard to send charcoal in a snowstorm.”
Ying Yin smiled. “Please thank the local PR team and the creative director for me. Tiwen, help me pick out a few gifts and draft a thank-you letter. After the event, I’ll hand-copy a few copies, and Anne, you can send them along with the gifts.”
Once all the decisions were made, it was already dusk.
Ying Yin stretched lazily, her movements relaxed and languid. “Come on, let’s go get a spa treatment. My treat.”
Junyi cheered and helped her put on the thin wool coat. Once they were in the car, she finally felt she could speak her mind. “Why doesn’t Mr. Shang give you couture? Doesn’t he care about you?”
Zhuang Tiwen: “…”
Thinking back to that indifferent phone call that morning – well, she was siding with Junyi on this one.
“He’s so stingy,” Junyi pouted. “All that money, but so cheap. Hmph. That’s all there is to him.”
Ying Yin smiled. “He couldn’t give me one even if he wanted to. Couture has to be custom-made, with a lead time of two to three months minimum. It wouldn’t be ready in time. It’s not like I could ask him to borrow one for me – that wouldn’t suit his status. It would be embarrassing.”
“You have such a good attitude,” Junyi said with genuine admiration.
It wasn’t clear whether she meant about being isolated and blacklisted, or about Shang Shao’s apparent indifference.
“Having Musel is actually already pretty good. We have Tiwen to thank for that initial suggestion.” Ying Yin couldn’t be bothered to borrow trouble. She pulled on an eye mask and settled in for a nap.
Just as the car approached the mall where the spa was located, her phone buzzed. As if sensing something, she saw the words “Mr. Shang” on the screen and felt her heartbeat quicken slightly.
“Mr. Shang,” she said, curled up in the back seat, fidgeting with the cuff of her coat sleeve. “Are you off work?”
“Where are you?”
Ying Yin gave him the name of the mall. “I was just about to get a spa treatment.”
“Go to basement level three. Send me your parking spot. I’ll come get you.”
Beside her, the two assistants – Tiwen tried hard to close her ears, while Junyi, who was driving, tried hard to prick hers up.
Whether closing or pricking, they both heard everything loud and clear. Someone coughed twice, in a way that only drew more attention.
Ying Yin pressed her lips together and swallowed.
Ah, did she have to clock in for work again today?
Her face inexplicably flushed. She glanced at her two assistants and, in a very small voice, tried to sound proper. “I can come to you. You don’t need to go out of your way.”
Shang Shao left no room for refusal. “I’ll be quick.”
He said quick, and he really was quick. Within just fifteen minutes, that Maybach glided down to the B3 parking garage.
Ying Yin, fully disguised, slipped quickly into the back seat.
“Cold?” Shang Shao asked. It was rare to see her dressed so covered up.
“Not cold. I’ll take it off right…”
Oh no.
Ying Yin’s hand froze on her belt.
What on earth was she wearing underneath?!
A slip dress! Strappy, semi-sheer, with a lace bra visible underneath! And it only went down to her upper thighs.
“I… I won’t take it off after all. Achoo…” Ying Yin sneezed to prove her point and said, with a perfectly straight face, “A cold.”
Shang Shao didn’t say anything. He leaned across and thoughtfully turned up the air conditioning on her side by three degrees.
Ying Yin was hot the entire way. Her hair hung loose, and her neck and collarbone were damp with sweat. She kept thinking, Why aren’t we there yet?
They did arrive – but not at home. At the airport.
They entered the airport, transferred to the airport’s VIP courtesy vehicle, and then arrived at the tarmac.
The Gulfstream G550, capable of intercontinental flight, already had its boarding stairs lowered. The crew was ready; they could take off at any moment.
Shang Shao said casually, “Come with me to Europe for a meeting.”
Ying Yin was dumbfounded. “N… now?”
“Now.”
Ying Yin stood there, flustered by the wind. As she slowly climbed the boarding stairs, she held no expectations whatsoever for the upcoming European trip. Her mind was completely occupied with…
She was only wearing a slip dress!
Thousands of kilometers of flying, and she was only wearing a semi-sheer slip dress!!!
The private jet took off from Ning City International Airport, breaking through the thick dusk clouds.
Once the flight had leveled out, Shang Shao opened his laptop, ready to start a video conference with his subordinates. He glanced up and looked at Ying Yin, who was sitting on the sofa across from him.
His brows furrowed slightly. “Why haven’t you taken off your coat yet?”
