Of all the superyachts sold worldwide, the total number does not exceed 160. In other words, there are only about 160 people in the world who own a superyacht. And among those 160 owners, more than eighty percent keep an extremely low profile – the media cannot uncover their identities, nor do their names appear on the Forbes rankings. Through layers of legal arrangements, they register their yachts under the names of obscure delivery workers or perfectly ordinary gardeners.
A single superyacht costs over two hundred million dollars to build, while its docking, management, and maintenance fees can run into hundreds of thousands a day. To anyone, the world of superyachts exists high above the clouds, beyond every conventional peak of wealth, fame, and status.
Zhao Manman still vividly remembered how the editor-in-chief of a major Italian magazine – a woman born into a distinguished cultural family, famously arrogant, and someone who never shared details of her private life – had once posted a photo from a yacht trip on Instagram.
In the picture, she wore a resort dress and sunglasses, smiling with an unprecedented brightness. She looked remarkably approachable as she posed for a group photo with several commercial models whom she would ordinarily never have given a second glance.
Everyone knew which yacht she had boarded: it belonged to Edward, the heir to the magazine’s holding group. It was also one of the very few superyachts whose owner maintained a presence on social media, making it a favorite topic among both the press and online commentators.
At the time, Zhao Manman was still serving as styling director at Moda. After returning from her vacation, the editor-in-chief had been positively radiant. During an afternoon tea gathering, coffee cup in hand, she mentioned that yacht voyage with such effortless nonchalance, such casual ease –
Eight times.
And that was during an afternoon tea break that lasted only twenty minutes.
How could Ying Yin possibly be worthy of boarding Edward’s yacht?
That was Zhao Manman’s very first thought when she saw Becca’s Instagram post.
She and Becca were acquaintances, their connection stemming from several cover shoots for Moda, after-parties following fashion shows, and a handful of elite social and fashion galas. Zhao Manman was skilled at cultivating relationships – give her a glass of wine, and she could strike up a rapport with just about anyone.
She immediately sent Becca a direct message: [Wow, honey!!! I never imagined you knew Ying Yin. She’s an absolutely unparalleled Best Actress here in China!]
Just as Shang Shao had said, Becca had a good personality. Even after marrying into one of the world’s wealthiest families, she never treated former colleagues with disdain. After finishing a sunset yoga session, she replied: [I’ve actually been a fan of hers for a long time. It’s just a shame she doesn’t seem very active in the fashion world.]
Within ten minutes, Zhao Manman had successively Googled keywords in both Chinese and English: “Becca China trip,” “Becca Chinese actress,” “Becca favorite actress,” and so on. At last, she uncovered a few subtle clues.
Smiling, she typed: [I adore her film The Floating Flower too. But why did she suddenly go to France at a time like this? The Fashion Gala is just around the corner, and I still have so many looks waiting for her to try on!]
The relationship between Zhao Manman and Becca extended no further than a few lines of casual small talk. After checking the likes and comments on her latest Instagram post once more, Becca politely brought the conversation to an end: [With you styling her, I’m sure she’ll light up the red carpet.]
After putting down her phone, Becca never mentioned Zhao Manman to Ying Yin. There was simply no need for someone so insignificant to serve as the centerpiece of their conversations.
Three hours later, Becca’s Instagram post had been reposted by Ying Yin fan accounts onto Weibo and then pushed onto the trending list by entertainment marketing accounts. By then, Zhao Manman had already beaten everyone to the punch and practically set up camp at Chu Anni’s studio.
Chu Anni was at her wit’s end on the phone.
“She’s gone crazy! My place is practically being flooded by her! Get back here quickly! It’s the middle of the night and she’s planted herself here refusing to leave. I can’t handle her anymore!”
Only heaven knew the shock of finding Zhao Manman waiting at her studio. Even more shocking were the next three hours: PR representatives and assistants delivering haute couture pieces kept arriving in an endless stream, one after another. There were so many garment racks being wheeled in that they were practically on the verge of collapsing.
And this was between eleven at night and two in the morning – hours when even dogs were asleep.
The fact that Zhao Manman could mobilize luxury-brand PR teams and magazine staff at that hour showed both how much influence she wielded and how desperately urgent she considered the situation.
“Why has she suddenly had a change of heart?” Ying Yin asked.
For the past few days, she had been living peacefully in Europe, blissfully detached from worldly affairs. She had hardly checked Weibo at all.
Besides, although Becca had treated her with impeccable hospitality, this kind of socializing was always exhausting. One had to appear gracious, relaxed, and effortlessly poised, while at the same time avoiding the trap of talking too much or becoming overly familiar. To maintain that balance, she had to keep herself constantly alert.
Where would she have found the time to play with her phone?
Night had fallen. The stairs of the private jet were slowly being lowered, and a flight attendant stood waiting by the cabin door.
Ying Yin walked a little farther away so as not to disturb Shang Shao and Edward as they said their goodbyes.
As she spoke with Chu Anni on the phone, her own phone continued to buzz relentlessly. WeChat messages poured in one after another, while Mai Anyan’s incoming call flashed insistently on the screen.
The feeling of urgency was all too familiar.
Trending topics. Public backlash. A major scandal.
Ying Yin’s heart skipped a beat.
Forgetting all about Zhao Manman, her tone grew more serious.
“Anni, just handle Zhao Manman for now. I’ll call you back later. If anything comes up, contact Tiwen first.”
The moment she answered Mai Anyan’s call, her eardrums were nearly blown out.
“Ying Yin! Which bastard took you onto that yacht?!”
Ying Yin was confused. “…How do you know about it?”
“Damn it, the whole freaking world knows about it now!”
Mai Anyan sounded caught between laughter and tears before finally devolving into gritted-teeth frustration.
“If you had access to resources like this, why didn’t you say so earlier? I’ve been losing sleep worrying about you for nothing!”
The whole world knows…
Feeling somewhat guilty under his scolding, Ying Yin instinctively lowered her voice. Afraid Shang Shao might overhear something, she pressed the phone tighter against her ear.
“Tell me already. Who exactly took you there?”
“Um…”
Ying Yin glanced at Shang Shao, who was standing nearby with a cigarette pinched between his fingers.
“My, uh… ordinary boyfriend?”
Mai Anyan: “…”
Apparently, your definition of “ordinary person” and my definition of “ordinary person” are not the same thing.
Once she realized that this was what had made the trending charts, Ying Yin stopped feeling anxious.
After hanging up, she seized a spare moment to take a quick stroll through Weibo.
#BeccaYingYin# was currently trending.
[Did the walls between worlds just collapse?]
[For anyone who needs context: This is Becca, a legendary retired supermodel. She married a foreign media tycoon earlier this year. One of the flagship magazines under his media group is Moda – the magazine young actresses practically fight tooth and nail to get on the cover of.]
[I checked foreign sites. Is that yacht insanely expensive or what?]
[A superyacht worth well over a billion yuan. Edward showed it off before. Coincidentally, Moda‘s September issue this year had a global theme of “Fashion and Environmental Protection”… and got roasted so badly they had to shut down the comments.]
[LMAO. Getting stabbed in the back by your own boss is wild.]
[What I’m more curious about is how Ying Yin got on board. This looks like a very private gathering, not the kind of event you can just crash.]
[Could it be Song Shizhang?!]
[That’s giving Song Shizhang way too much credit…]
[LOL. At this point, Song Shizhang would probably be the one begging her to take him onto the yacht.]
Moda’s owner. A media tycoon. A flagship publication…
Ying Yin stood frozen on the spot.
When she had asked about Edward’s identity before, Shang Shao had brushed it off with a casual, almost dismissive. “He sells newspapers.”
Meanwhile, fashion bloggers who had previously been subtly critical of Ying Yin’s fashion resources suddenly changed their tone and quickly posted breakdowns.
[We don’t know exactly what kind of party Ying Yin and Becca met at, but we really have to praise her outfits this time! The morning robe is from Hayworth’s newly released spring/summer collection in Milan – its vacation vibe is overwhelming. Ying Yin wearing it really gives off a Greek goddess feel!]
[The other cocktail dress from Joysilly is absolutely stunning! Pearl straps, soft layered draping, and a dramatically open back. Elegant and refined from the front, but bold and sensual from behind! That back line is truly one of a kind among domestic actresses.]
[Quick addition: both of these are key pieces from the brands’ spring/summer collections. The reservation hotlines are probably being flooded by wealthy buyers right now.]
Below, fans responded with sarcastic comments:
[If I remember correctly, last time you said her chest looked tacky and her outfits were repetitive… you’ve changed, how have you changed into this, sob sob]
[This blogger really has some serious face-changing talent.]
[I still preferred you when you had a sworn vendetta against her. Maybe you should go back to that version.]
At this moment, it was 8 p.m. in France, while in China it was 2 a.m.
Ying Yin put away her phone, composed herself, put a smile back on her face, and stepped forward to hug Edward and Becca goodbye.
After the couple left, Ying Yin couldn’t wait and immediately asked, “You already knew this would happen, so you sent me back to China early.”
“What happened?” Shang Shao glanced at her and took her hand, leading her up the boarding stairs.
Although he had already touched her in many places he shouldn’t have, holding her hand like this while walking was a first.
His palm was broad, with faint calluses, warm and dry as it held hers.
Being led up the stairs by him, Ying Yin suddenly felt a strange tingling in her wrist, like every nerve ending was softly trembling.
“Becca posted a photo of me with her. It got reposted onto Weibo by fan accounts, and it ended up trending. Everyone’s asking how I got onto that yacht.”
Shang Shao nodded, as if he wasn’t surprised at all.
“Also… the studio that previously terminated my contract has now changed its attitude.”
“As expected.”
“Mr. Shang, this is the real purpose of bringing me to Europe, isn’t it?” Ying Yin looked at him calmly. “Not to accompany you to meetings, and not to buy me haute couture.”
But to give her backing – to gift her a background others could never reach.
“It’s not as complicated as you think. It just happened to work out that way,” Shang Shao said lightly.
He genuinely didn’t think it was anything particularly remarkable, though arranging for Renault and Edward to appear together had indeed taken some effort.
“But you’ve been very tired recently,” Ying Yin said, lowering her gaze.
Shang Shao looked at her for a moment, then let out a very soft, almost imperceptible chuckle.
“Don’t be silly. You’re the one who still hasn’t recovered from your cold.”
“Actually, things in the fashion world… aren’t that big of a deal. I’m a film actress -directors choose people based on acting, not on how many magazines you’ve been on or what clothes you’ve worn.”
Ying Yin hooked her fingers around his hand, still keeping her head lowered.
“Every time there’s an event, people might laugh at me a bit, but if I don’t look at it, then it doesn’t matter. Fashion endorsements mainly just make money for the company. As for me…”
“Are you happy?” Shang Shao listened quietly for a while, then asked directly.
At that question, Ying Yin suddenly went silent.
Tears came just like that. They hung at the corner of her lips, slid down her chin, and dropped – pat – onto the back of Shang Shao’s hand.
She nodded.
Shang Shao curled his lips slightly and wiped at the corner of her eye.
“Why are you such a crybaby?”
“I’m best at crying scenes…” Ying Yin’s voice was still steady, not trembling at all, not short of breath either. “I’m very good at crying. It’s your fault for not watching my films?”
She pressed her lips into a small smile.
Shang Shao lifted his hand, fingers sliding into her hair at her temple, thumb gently brushing her soft cheek.
“I still have a flight to catch. I should go. Rest well on the way.”
He didn’t linger any longer. After giving a few instructions to the flight attendant, he stepped off the plane.
Even the flight attendant had never seen him hand over his private jet to someone else. He had rarely in his life ever said something like “I need to catch a flight” – it was truly unusual.
Shang Shao stepped off the plane alone. Ying Yin watched him leave, only able to see his tie fluttering in the French winter wind – just like the snowstorm that had greeted their arrival.
When the private jet taxied onto the runway, the man standing by the glass window finally turned away and went to catch his own flight to Germany.
The flight attendant chuckled softly.
“When you two were arguing on the way here, I was wondering how Mr. Shang was going to coax you. I don’t think he’s ever met anyone bold enough to be so stubborn with him.”
She teased lightly, “Why didn’t you kiss goodbye? Was it because I was here and you felt shy?”
Ying Yin gave a soft “mm,” only then remembering.
“I forgot.”
She opened her phone and sent him a WeChat message: [Mr. Shang, you didn’t kiss me when you left.]
After waiting a long while with no reply, the flight attendant reminded her. “There’s no internet on civil aviation flights. You’ll only see it after Mr. Shang lands.”
Ying Yin felt she had truly lost her mind and long-pressed to retract the message.
When Shang Shao landed, all he saw was her single retraction notice.
A car from Shang Yu came to pick him up. He sat alone in the back seat, eyes closed to rest, but his brows were slightly furrowed, and his fingers tapped lightly on his knee – impatient, as if unsettled.
As the car merged onto the airport highway, he finally opened WeChat: [What did you retract?]
Ying Yin had just woken up from a short nap: [Nothing…]
She took a deep breath, rolled over on the sofa-like bed: [You’ll laugh at me.]
Shang Shao: [I won’t.]
Ying Yin: [I said – you didn’t kiss me when you left.]
That was her way of saying she missed him.
Thinking of the taste she’d just mentioned, his eyes darkened slightly.
He replied with some simple words: [Wait for me.]
But his work schedule was fixed and immovable. No matter how much Ying Yin missed him, they were destined not to see each other for another ten days or half a month.
When the plane landed, Junyi and Tiwen were already waiting for her at the airport with a car.
Scalpers couldn’t get access to a private jet’s schedule, so the airport was quiet – no paparazzi, no fans staking out the arrival.
“Amazing. I was lurking in gossip groups for ages and still couldn’t figure out who took you there,” Junyi reported on the latest public opinion trends. “But the comments aren’t very nice. They’re saying you’re just good at scheming and relying on men.”
Zhuang Tiwen let out a cold snort. “In their eyes, is a beautiful woman only allowed to climb the ladder by relying on men?”
“But this time it really was Mr. Shang who helped you – and he’s a man too,” Junyi said, a little confused. “So maybe the criticism isn’t entirely unfair?”
As soon as she said that, Tiwen knocked her on the head.
“What nonsense are you talking about? Mr. Shang just took Yinyin to meet his friends. Meeting your boyfriend’s friends – does that count as climbing up the social ladder? And as for her resources improving after that meeting, how is that her fault? Isn’t that just those people’s natural habit of worshipping the powerful and trampling the weak?”
After thinking about it, Junyi nodded. “So Mr. Shang is basically using their own logic against them?”
“Pretty much. Whatever logic they use to judge people, he just turns it back on them.”
“Wow,” Junyi said, gripping the steering wheel, her tone full of admiration. “As expected of Mr. Shang. That feels way more sophisticated than just gifting her a piece of haute couture.”
Tiwen smiled and glanced at Ying Yin through the rearview mirror.
In truth, she was also a little surprised. Shang Shao had clearly said he had neither interest in nor time for matters in the fashion world, yet the moment he acted, it was a complete decisive strike that cut off the problem at its root.
Mm. Shang Shao really was… hard to read.
“Yinyin! Tell me honestly – during your trip to Europe this time, did anything substantial happen?” Junyi interrogated from the driver’s seat.
“W-what do you mean ‘substantial’…” Ying Yin curled up in the back seat with a neck pillow, pretending to be weak.
“Did you kiss him?!”
Ying Yin burst into a fit of coughing – half sincere, half deliberately evasive.
“There was… there was a kiss…”
Tiwen: “…”
Heaven help her, she really didn’t want to hear this.
Junyi couldn’t help but twist around.
“Is Mr. Shang a good kisser?!”
Tiwen finally snapped.
“Focus on the road!!!”
Ying Yin’s face was already burning red, but she still tried to look composed, calmly picking at the foil of her cold medicine.
“Well… he’s… okay, I guess…”
She looked down – and realized she had peeled off an entire blister pack of pills without noticing.
“Dinner’s on you tonight!!!” Junyi cheered.
But dinner was not going to happen, because Chu Anni was calling every hour, each time more emotionally unstable than the last. Ying Yin had to rush over to rescue her.
She went straight from the airport to Chu Anni’s studio. The moment she got out of the car, she saw Zhao Manman’s bright red Ferrari parked there, its roof covered in small yellow banyan fruits – evidence that it hadn’t moved for nearly twenty hours.
As soon as she entered, Zhao Manman greeted her warmly, dragging out her tone. “Honey… long time no see.”
She took Ying Yin’s hand and casually exchanged cheek kisses as if nothing were out of the ordinary.
“I saw Becca’s Instagram, I was so excited. How was it? Was the yacht fun? I heard there’s even a helipad on board – did you take a helicopter?”
Behind them, Tiwen and Junyi both froze like they’d been struck by lightning.
How does she do that? I want to learn…
Ying Yin’s voice and smile turned soft and slightly coquettish. “Yeah, I did, but it wasn’t actually that interesting, so I came back pretty quickly.”
She held Zhao Manman’s hand back, smiling so sweetly her lips almost reached her ears, blinking. “Mostly because I didn’t want to keep you waiting too long.”
“How could that be?” Zhao Manman gritted her teeth so hard she felt they might break, forcing out a smile. “I was just going through lookbooks with Anni earlier. You know, Anni couldn’t even borrow any clothes – you should’ve come to me.”
Behind them, Chu Anni looked like she was about to curse out loud.
Damn it – why she couldn’t borrow clothes, you don’t have any idea why, you bitch?!
This time, Ying Yin didn’t respond. She simply held both of Zhao Manman’s hands, looking her straight in the eye, smiling continuously without saying a word.
Zhao Manman was the first to crack. Her smile stiffened on her face.
“Time is tight. We shouldn’t just be standing here, okay?”
“What’s so tight about the time?”
“There are so many haute couture pieces to try on…”
“I’ve already chosen,” Ying Yin interrupted naturally and warmly.
“It’s Musel, right?”
The moment she said that, not only Zhao Manman froze – but Chu Anni, Tiwen, and Junyi all went completely still as well.
Zhao Manman might look calm on the surface, but inside she was in complete panic. Her brain was spinning at the speed of a supercar doing 300 miles per hour, focused entirely on one thing – how to style Ying Yin. Even if it was only once, she had to do it.
“Musel’s couture line was relaunched this year. With your status and your connections, it’s honestly a bit beneath you to be used for product placement there. You’re actually very suitable for Hayworth. That first couture piece you wore – the brand was very satisfied. And you know, Hayworth was acquired by Renault last year. You met Mr. Renault this time too, didn’t you? Just now, Hayworth himself personally called me from Poland, hoping you could wear another of their key pieces.”
“I like Musel. It’s simpler, without so many complicated intentions.”
Ying Yin still smiled sweetly.
“You know me – I don’t really have that many styling tricks or schemes when it comes to clothes. I can’t really handle all that. Better to just go simple and elegant.”
Zhao Manman’s laugh had already turned into strained little hums, like she was at the end of her rope.
Chu Anni was considering whether to step in and smooth things over when Ying Yin suddenly softened her tone and said casually, “But I haven’t picked my inner event look yet. Do you have a lookbook for that?”
Zhao Manman, whose heart had already sunk to the bottom of the sea after being mentally cursed a thousand times, immediately lit up again at the lifeline.
“Yes, yes, of course! There is one Hayworth piece that was basically made for you. But the inner event doesn’t get as much attention as the red carpet…”
“So what you mean is it would be wasting it to wear it inside?” Ying Yin said, sounding slightly wronged. “Then forget it. I’m afraid I’ll upset the designer again, and next time they won’t lend it to me.”
She emphasized the words “the designer” very clearly.
Zhao Manman smiled, tilted her face slightly, and nodded her chin twice – each movement slow, deliberate, and crystal clear.
After a moment, she broke into a grin and squeezed out a bright, almost forced cheer through her teeth. “Okay! Then Hayworth it is. Let’s try it on now!”
She let go, turned around – and in that instant, all five women present had the same thought flash through their minds:
bitch.
Zhao Manman cursed Ying Yin in her heart, Ying Yin and the other four cursed her back in theirs – each in their own way. The small studio was suddenly filled with a strangely polite, mutually hostile atmosphere.
To be fair, Hayworth – one of the breakout couture houses in recent years, especially beloved by wealthy clients – had a forest-like, ethereal quality that suited Ying Yin extremely well. The moment she put it on, everyone had the same thought cross their minds:
It would be a shame not to wear this on the red carpet.
Ying Yin studied herself in the mirror, then took a mirror selfie and sent it to Shang Shao.
Ying Yin: [Does it look good?]
It was a pale green dress, vine-like in design, perfectly complementing her icy, delicate beauty.
Shang Shao replied fairly quickly, though rather indifferently: [It’s okay.]
Ying Yin pressed her lips together slightly. [Mr. Shang, will you watch my red carpet appearance?]
Shang Shao answered matter-of-factly: [I got no time.]
Zhao Manman’s assistants left exactly the same way they had arrived – carrying large, heavy bundles. Thirty minutes later, they were gone.
Zhao Manman herself let out half a breath of relief. She stood at the door, reluctant to part, lingering with Ying Yin for a long time. She even pulled in the China editor-in-chief of Moda for a video call, showing her the styling and asking whether it was strong enough to close the red carpet.
Once everyone left, the remaining four women all collapsed into stillness.
Chu Anni stared blankly ahead. “I have to admit, the fact that she managed to get so many couture pieces in such a short time… that really is a skill.”
But she had something on her mind.
Now that Zhao Manman had come crawling back so eagerly, Ying Yin had no reason to continue doing her styling here. The difference in resources and connections was simply too vast – there was nothing she could compete with.
“Anni,” Ying Yin called her.
“Mm?” Chu Anni stood up. Sensing that this was going to be serious, she unconsciously straightened herself and braced mentally.
“For Starlight Diamond Night and the film festival afterward, couture won’t be hard to borrow anymore. Pay more attention to it.”
“You…” Chu Anni froze, flustered. “Zhao Manman… she…”
Ying Yin looked up at her and said, word by word, “I’ve said it before. Adding icing on the cake is easy. Giving charcoal in the snow is hard.”
The next day, the design director of Musel personally came to the door.
He was currently conducting market research in China. Flying from Shanghai to Ning City only took a few hours, so his schedule wasn’t too tight.
This was Chu Anni’s first time meeting him, and she felt a bit overwhelmed. His résumé was impressive – he had switched from another “blue-blood” luxury house’s couture atelier to Musel. There were inevitably traces of internal factions and power struggles behind the move, but Musel had offered him generous terms and even reopened its couture line for him. It could be considered a mutually beneficial match.
“I heard Miss Ying rejected many couture pieces, and chose only mine.” He smiled. “Let me show you a more interesting way to wear this dress.”
“Interesting” was clearly something he had just come up with on the spot. Yet the aura of a haute couture design director was so strong, and his confidence in his own work so absolute.
He looked Ying Yin up and down, pressed his knuckles lightly against his lips in thought for a few seconds, then suddenly crouched down and, without hesitation or mercy, tore the hem of the dress apart with his bare hands.
Amid the gasps of the others, the white dress was ripped up to mid-thigh.
His hands were extremely dexterous. He gathered the loose waist of the dress into folds, shaping them into camellia-like petals and forming an asymmetrical draped panel.
“Get me a pair of boots – knee-high, ruched but not too dense, pointed toe, no platform, light-colored.” He instructed Chu Anni.
The instructions were so precise that Chu Anni immediately found a pair for him.
“OK,” he said, taking another look. He curled two fingers in a summoning gesture.
“Please bring me the lapis lazuli earrings I brought.”
They were a pair of large earrings, about the width of an adult thumb pad, made of pure lapis lazuli – deep, clean blue with a sculptural quality.
Once they were clipped onto Ying Yin’s earlobes, they immediately resonated with the pure white of the dress, creating a cold, sacred contrast.
But the boots on her feet were anything but demure – avant-garde and bold, especially for a red carpet setting where most people wore conservative five-centimeter platforms.
“For a Moda dinner, you shouldn’t dress too boring. If you dare wear this, it will be very interesting. Of course, Chinese actresses tend to prioritize elegance and glamour on the red carpet, while fashion innovation comes second.” He smiled slightly. “I’ve already ‘ruined’ this dress. If you don’t like this look, you still have time to choose another.”
Both sides had shown full sincerity.
Ying Yin could tell he was using a tactic of retreating to advance, and she also understood he was kindly giving her an exit route.
“No. It’s fine.”
She made the final decision.
It was a bit revealing, yes – but… anyway, Mr. Shang wasn’t going to watch the red carpet, right.
