They Ruined the Dress… Big Mistake

The Qin family’s old residence wasn’t actually old, but it was vast. In Beijing, a location like this was truly one of a kind.

The car stopped at the gate. Jiang Baichuan got out personally, exchanged a few respectful words at the guardhouse, and waited for the gates to open.

In that brief pause, Jiang Nan instinctively glanced at the metal plaque hanging beside the entrance.

His mood was terrible—no, terrible didn’t even begin to cover it. It was abysmal.

Last night, Ye Zhiqiu’s success had blasted across the ocean and onto the trending searches, twisting Jiang Nan’s heart with envy and pain.

Then, after the show, the photographers released their photos. In the early morning hours, Ye Zhiqiu trended again.

The first time was related to the show. The second time was purely for himself.

In those photos, the young man was surrounded by people, his smile restrained.

It didn’t matter. Netizens went wild, calling him “wife” and “husband,” practically trying to elevate him to the heavens.

Jiang Nan spent the whole night scrolling through Weibo and forums, unable to sleep. To make it worse, someone in his Friend Circle had posted a photo of Ye Zhiqiu. Furious, Jiang Nan blocked him instantly.

Jealousy, bitterness, resentment—all of it churned together. It wasn’t until the sky grew light that he finally closed his eyes for a moment.

He’d used concealer under his eyes that morning, but his exhaustion still showed.

The sun was bright. It caught the gilded letters on the plaque: “Aegean Sea.”

He’d always thought the homophone was clever, using the character for “Qin” in “Aegean.”

But now, after a long moment of dazed thought, he suddenly understood the origin of Qin Jianhe’s childhood name, “Qin Yu” (Island of Qin).

An island born from the sea. An island born from love.

Even if it seemed bitterly ironic now, understanding the secret of Qin Jianhe’s name made his dull eyes light up.

The gates finally opened. Jiang Baichuan returned to the car, and they drove inside.

“I know you don’t like the current Mrs. Qin,” Jiang Baichuan reminded Jiang Nan again. “But don’t let it show on your face. Understand?”

Wang Xin and her son, Qin Wei’an, were short-sighted and not worth worrying about. The real concern was Qin Xusheng’s feelings.

No matter what, Qin Xusheng was Qin Jianhe’s father. If he insisted, Qin Jianhe might give them some face. If not, he’d have to try pleading with Nie Fengjun.

He sighed.

The car stopped in front of the main house. Before getting out, Jiang Baichuan asked one last time, “You’re not hiding anything else from me, are you?”

“No.”

Saying “no” was a bit perfunctory. But some things Jiang Nan himself didn’t understand. And if his father knew the attack on VIA had been about jealousy, the old man would have a heart attack.

In fact, from the moment he’d heard the news, Jiang Nan suspected Ye Zhiqiu was involved.

On the surface, the Qin Group’s decision to end cooperation with the Jiang family was due to Jinqi’s betrayal of VIA.

But such things could be made into a big deal or a small one. That’s why, so far, the Jiang family’s other partners hadn’t been affected.

Now, Qin Jianhe was suddenly targeting this cooperative relationship. Jiang Nan couldn’t help but suspect he was defending Ye Zhiqiu.

But he didn’t dare face that thought, not even in his own mind. It was too vague to mention to his father.

“Good.” Jiang Baichuan straightened his jacket, opened the door, and got out.

The driver retrieved the gifts from the trunk. The three of them entered the main house.

Qin Xusheng and Wang Xin were having tea in the living room. The morning sun was pleasant. Qin Xusheng sat in its warmth.

“Brother!” Jiang Baichuan quickened his pace. “I’ve come to bother you.”

“Old Jiang.” Qin Xusheng set down his teacup and gestured for him to come closer.

“Sorry to trouble you,” Jiang Baichuan sighed.

“Uncle Qin, Aunt Wang.” Jiang Nan greeted them, head bowed.

“Please, sit down,” Wang Xin said. “Nan Nan, Xiao An is home too. Would you like to talk to him?”

“Isn’t he supposed to be at work?” Jiang Nan asked, his sleep-deprived brain slowly turning.

“He was going, but he got up late,” Wang Xin said. “He didn’t sleep well last night.”

It was almost ten. “Going” was a strong word.

“Your brother is much more sensible than Xiao An,” Jiang Baichuan said. “Tell your uncle and aunt what you did.”

Jiang Nan was silent.

“Since you won’t speak, I’ll have to beg your uncle myself.”

Jiang Baichuan explained the situation.

“Xiao Yu is too strict,” Wang Xin said. “Look at the boy. Didn’t sleep all night?”

“My fault for not raising him right,” Jiang Baichuan said. “If he could eat and sleep after this, he’d be worthless.”

Jiang Nan wanted to argue but held back.

“Brother, is there anything you can do?” Jiang Baichuan asked.

Qin Xusheng knew he had no real say in this.

From the beginning, Qin Jianhe had been determined to take back Q.L. It held his mother’s life’s work. He wouldn’t let it fall into other hands. As for him, his father… he might as well not exist.

He couldn’t say that.

People still came to him because he was Qin Jianhe’s father. It was the only reason Qin Wei’an’s brand, “Manqing,” still had resources.

So he couldn’t admit his powerlessness. He had to help.

But he had no way to convince Qin Jianhe. The boy was too strong-willed.

It made his head ache.

He thought for a moment. He would stall, then seek help from Nie Fengjun.

“Old Jiang,” he coughed, “it’s not that I won’t help, but Xiao Yu has his reasons.”

Jiang Nan clenched his fist, thinking of what those “reasons” might be.

“Of course,” Jiang Baichuan said.

“Xiao Yu is independent,” Qin Xusheng said. “If I contradict him, it might backfire.”

“I understand.”

“Here’s what we’ll do. Get through this year and next. The major show seasons are only twice a year. After that, I’ll bring up合作 again.”

Jiang Baichuan was relieved. Even if other clients were lost, they could recover later.

“Thank you, brother.” He was effusive. “I’ve troubled you too much over the years.”

Don’t be polite. We’re brothers.

He coughed again.

Jiang Baichuan was about to leave when they heard footsteps on the stairs.

Qin Wei’an came down, looking at his phone.

“Watch where you’re going,” Wang Xin said.

“Q.L.’s show. This Ye Zhiqiu…” He looked up, surprised. “Oh, Nan Ge. I heard my brother cut you off. Want to come to me instead?”

Disgusting.

But Qin Wei’an mentioning Ye Zhiqiu reminded him. Q.L.’s second show would start soon. Ye Zhiqiu would be in the spotlight again.

He hated his powerlessness.

Everyone was talking about him. Even Qin Wei’an mentioned him first.

“Greet your uncle,” Qin Xusheng said coldly.

“Uncle Jiang.”

“Xiao An. How are you?”

“Fine.” He turned to his mother. “Ye Zhiqiu is impressive. I want him for Manqing.”

Jiang Baichuan wanted to laugh, but said nothing. He said goodbye.

In the car, he rubbed his temples.

Eighteen months. It would be difficult, but not unbearable.

Jiang Nan was already on his phone.

* * * *

In New York, Q.L.’s second show was about to start.

Ye Zhiqiu checked his watch. Twenty minutes.

“Xiao Ye,” Meng Da called, walking over. “Some media want interviews. Do you have time?”

“Which ones?”

“V.F. and NY Time are among them. I turned down the others.”

V.F. covered fashion, art, beauty. NY Time was known for photography and interviews. Both were prestigious.

For a newcomer like Ye Zhiqiu to be asked by both was rare.

“Ten minutes each?”

“At least fifteen.”

“Fifteen, then.”

Gao Yang was stunned. “How can you be so calm?”

“It’s just an interview.”

He’d been about to say that even Zhou Lang had only gotten one of them, but stopped.

Zhou Lang was watching.

Ye Zhiqiu noticed his hesitation. “Go check the accessories again.”

The first show had been a success. This should be easier.

Wei Tingjin was confident. Zhou Hui had built her own.

But Ye Zhiqiu was uneasy. Maybe he was getting too much. Or maybe it was the new venue.

The Cultural History Museum was different from Lincoln Center.

Wang Ru brought him water. “Tired?”

“No. Where’s Zhou Hui?”

“In makeup.”

Wang Ru pulled out a chair. “Sit down. I’ll help her change later.”

Ye Zhiqiu sat and checked his phone.

The group chat was full of praise from Jin Baobao and Li Shaojun, with occasional messages from Tang Le.

[Li Shao: Master Ye, everyone’s asking about you. Want to set you up.]

[Prosperity: I didn’t sleep all night. More excited than if it was me.]

[Li Shao: My master shows the world what fashion is.]

[Prosperity: You’re a star. Youyou says you’re ten times more popular than him.]

[Lele: So impressive.]

He smiled. He especially liked seeing Tang Le’s messages.

How did it feel, he wondered, to watch him rise while pretending to be happy?

Bitter, probably.

He felt a cruel pleasure.

Zhou Lang watched him smile, his chest tight. He looked at Zhao Zhi.

“Don’t forget.”

Zhao Zhi nodded.

The music started. Ye Zhiqiu put down his phone.

He scrolled through his contacts, found Qin Jianhe’s name, and looked at his last message.

[QIN: I’ll take that as an invitation.]

He smiled, softer this time.

The show began.

Wang Ru brought Zhou Hui. “Any adjustments?”

Ye Zhiqiu adjusted her necklace. “Good. Why so early?”

“So it’s done.”

He glanced at his backpack.

If something was going to happen, better it happen soon.

“Relax,” he said. “Sit down.”

“Compared to Teacher Meng’s group, we have it easy.”

“Next season, we’ll have more.”

Wei Tingjin finished his first walk. They helped him change.

Then Zhou Hui cried out.

Zhao Zhi had bumped into her, spilling hot coffee on her red dress.

She was more worried about the dress than her burned leg.

“Teacher Xiao Ye…”

“Get a doctor,” Ye Zhiqiu told Wang Ru.

Gao Yang helped Wei Tingjin finish dressing. He went back on stage.

“Are you hurt?” Ye Zhiqiu asked Zhou Hui.

She shook her head.

“Why did your man do that?” Ye Zhiqiu demanded.

“He apologized,” Zhou Lang said. “It was an accident. You didn’t have to kick him.”

“He was groping her.”

Zhao Zhi was quiet.

“Models change together all the time,” Zhou Lang said.

“Professionally,” Ye Zhiqiu said. “Not like that.”

“You’re being disrespectful.”

The doctor came. Ye Zhiqiu checked on Zhou Hui. No burns.

“I’m reporting this to the company,” he said.

“Go ahead.”

Ye Zhiqiu opened his backpack. He took out a new dress.

Everyone stared.

“Since you like playing dirty, let’s play.” He shook out the red fabric. “I have backups.”

He gave it to Wang Ru. “Help her change.”

Zhou Lang and Zhao Zhi exchanged glances. How had he made a backup in so little time?

And he didn’t care about face. He was openly accusing them.

Zhou Lang couldn’t risk more rumors.

Zhao Zhi was worried about his reward.

Zhou Hui was determined to do well.

The show was even better than yesterday. After, Ye Zhiqiu went for the interviews.

They took longer than expected. When he came out, he was tired.

He checked his phone.

Many messages, many calls. Congratulations, questions, offers.

He found Qin Jianhe’s name.

[QIN: You wanted a prize? There’s a coffee shop behind the hotel. I left a gift. Pick it up.]

An hour ago.

He hurried outside and hailed a taxi.

It was almost midnight. Was the coffee shop still open?

The drive seemed endless.

When the car finally stopped, he jumped out.

The lights were on, but a “Closed” sign hung on the door.

He knocked anyway.

The door opened. He stepped inside.

He saw a relaxed, elegant figure.

Light-colored sweatshirt. Blue jeans. And the limited edition sneakers.

The man looked up and smiled.

Ye Zhiqiu froze.

Wind blew in from behind him, but inside it was warm as spring.

“Qin…”

“Didn’t you want a handsome naked man?” Qin Jianhe took his hand, pulled him inside, and kissed him. “No one is more suitable.”

Ye Zhiqiu looked at the smiling staff.

“He doesn’t understand Chinese,” Qin Jianhe whispered, kissing him again. “Let’s French kiss.”

“This is America…” Ye Zhiqiu started, but didn’t finish.

In the closed coffee shop, he was held and kissed.

He stopped resisting.

France or America, it didn’t matter.