Chapter 33 Part 2

Qin Xing was sorting through some documents when she heard Yun Chun’s words. “You know about SNOW, right?”

The drowsiness in Yun Chun’s eyes faltered. Surprisingly, just hearing the name chased some of it away. “Yeah. What about it?”

“They’re coming to talk partnership with us shortly.”

“Huh?”

Yun Chun blinked in surprise. “You’re serious?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Yun Chun’s lips parted, and she asked earnestly, “What do they even see in us?”

Qin Xing replied, “The company’s growth potential.”

Yun Chun: ?

The doubt and disdain in Yun Chun’s eyes were plain as day. Qin Xing knew full well how unrealistic her own words sounded. Their little company, and SNOW wanted to partner with them? At first, Qin Xing had thought it was a scam call.

But then she remembered that Mo Yue now held some shares in SNOW, and it all made sense.

She had no idea what Mo Yue was up to, but in the early days of building a company, rapid growth was key—and she couldn’t turn down this opportunity.

“Alright, our company doesn’t exactly scream ‘bright future’ right now. But if they’ve come knocking, we can’t exactly say no, can we?” Qin Xing continued, “So grab a bite, have Weiwei do your makeup. Look more awake.”

This time, Yun Chun murmured her agreement. Not only did the sleepiness vanish from her eyes, but she also straightened up in her chair. She grabbed the hand pie in front of her and started eating as she stood. “Then I’ll go find Weiwei.”

When it came to work, Yun Chun was always serious.

Especially when SNOW was involved.

By the time Yun Chun had finished her makeup, the SNOW representatives had arrived at the company.

The group headed to the conference room to negotiate.

The meeting lasted forty minutes. The main points: SNOW wanted a long-term partnership. Whenever they hosted Fashion Week or other events, Qin Xing’s company would provide models for them to select from—maybe one or two to participate. They also offered great terms: if Qin Xing’s models attended events, they could borrow outfits from SNOW, though it wasn’t mandatory; no strings attached.

For Qin Xing, it was all upside, no downside.

Qin Xing and Yun Chun exchanged a glance, both spotting the issue in each other’s eyes.

The terms were too good—suspiciously so.

Qin Xing didn’t agree right away. Instead, she asked, “Mind if I ask why your company chose us?”

If this was Mo Yue pulling strings, what did Mo Yue stand to gain? Qin Xing knew her well: that woman always prioritized profit. She never did anything without benefit.

The representatives were two women—a manager and her assistant. The manager smiled graciously at Qin Xing’s question. “Because of Miss Yun.”

Yun Chun, sitting beside her: ?

Qin Xing glanced at Yun Chun. “Yun Chun?”

“Yes,” the manager said. “And that’s my second point.”

She explained that there was a Fashion Week abroad in a week, and they wanted to invite Yun Chun to participate.

“Miss Yun, please consider it.”

Yun Chun smiled. “Thank you for the honor. Of course I’d be delighted to join.”

She shot Qin Xing a look.

Conditions this tempting? Even if it was a poisoned apple, she’d bite.

Qin Xing thought the same.

Whatever the ulterior motive, passing this up would mean her company had no reason to stay open.

They chatted a bit more, confirmed the partnership, signed the contract, and wrapped up the meeting.

But before leaving, the manager held Yun Chun back. “Miss Yun, I have something to ask you.”

“Miss Yun, I heard from Qin Xing’s side that the gown you wore in your last show—you modified it yourself. Was that you?”

It wasn’t, but Yun Chun couldn’t tell the truth. She nodded. “Yes. Why?”

The manager smiled wistfully. “No reason. Just that it reminded us of Director Lu’s style.”

Yun Chun froze. “Director Lu?”

“SNOW’s founder. I’m sure you’re familiar. Several gowns you’ve worn before were personally designed by Director Lu.”

Yun Chun knew the clothes, but the person…

Her mind flashed to that day in the changing room, watching Lu Qingxue use scissors and ribbons to transform a damaged gown into something fresh and new…

Then she thought of Xue…

And now this manager saying her surname was Lu…

“Could I ask… your Director Lu’s…” Yun Chun paused, her heart suddenly racing as if something was about to burst forth. “Full name?”

It wasn’t something to share—Director Lu never publicized her name. But recalling General Manager Mo’s instructions on the way over, the woman smiled. “It’s a very poetic name. She’s Lu Qingxue.”

Lu Qingxue.

Her name was Lu Qingxue.

Yun Chun’s emotions surged, a lump like a stone lodged in her throat.

The manager asked, “Is there anything else you’d like to know, Miss Yun? If not, we’ll be in touch before departure next week.”

Yun Chun tamped down her feelings. “Okay.”

Yun Chun stayed rooted in place while Qin Xing saw the visitors out. When Qin Xing returned, she found Yun Chun still standing there motionless and asked oddly, “You didn’t know SNOW was Lu Qingxue’s?”

“…No.”

“Then you two…”

Seeing the look on Yun Chun’s face, Qin Xing trailed off without finishing.

Qin Xing sensed there was something she didn’t know. And suddenly it clicked: maybe Mo Yue’s goal this time wasn’t profit, but something tied to Lu Qingxue? As for why Yun Chun was involved… Qin Xing recalled that ghost marriage between Yun Chun and Lu Qingxue, that marriage certificate. Things felt more complicated than she could grasp.

Just as she was about to ask, Yun Chun spoke. “I need some time alone.”

Qin Xing stared at her for a few seconds, worried but nodding. “Alright. Call me if you need anything.”

Yun Chun nodded.

Once Qin Xing had closed the door behind her, Yun Chun dragged herself to a chair by the conference table and sank into it.

Her straight shoulders slumped.

She felt utterly drained.

That pause from Qin Xing—even unspoken—had said it all: And you’re still friends?

What kind of friends didn’t even know Lu Qingxue founded and designed for SNOW?

Autumn seemed to arrive overnight.

The trees had been lush with green just yesterday; this morning, the ground outside was carpeted in fallen leaves.

The midday autumn sun filtered through the window, casting a layer of gold across the conference table. The shadows of the poplars outside danced with the breeze, like figures in a shadow puppet play flickering to life on the table.

A single ray slipped through the branches, striking Yun Chun’s face—right on her eyes.

Everywhere else—forehead, the space below her nose—was shrouded in gloom.

But that spot on her eyes glowed golden-orange, like the brightest spotlight on a stage, revealing every flaw and virtue in stark relief.

Yun Chun’s gaze was downcast, lashes quivering, pupils contracting.

The eyes are windows to the soul. Words can lie, but the emotions they convey go straight to the heart, raw and true.

In Yun Chun’s eyes swirled shock, inscrutability, and a hint of realization dawning.

No wonder Lu Qingxue had said she wasn’t impressive. Transforming a gown was child’s play to her—nothing challenging.

But… how could she not be impressive?

That alone was enough to stun Yun Chun.

Yun Chun tugged her lips into a faint smile, laughing at herself.

She’d even claimed she didn’t need Lu Qingxue’s help. And yet… from the day she’d debuted, Lu Qingxue had been helping her.

She couldn’t imagine what Lu Qingxue had thought upon seeing her profile.

But Yun Chun could guess: Because they knew each other, she’d chosen her?

Whatever the case, Yun Chun was grateful Lu Qingxue had. It was her first step—crucial and a resounding success.

Yun Chun realized then that she’d been in Lu Qingxue’s debt since that moment. Though… the debts she owed Lu Qingxue were piling up.

The light and shadows on the desk still swayed, but colossal beasts seemed to lurk on either side, devouring them inch by inch and pulling them into the darkness.

Only when the final glimmer vanished—when that golden beam piercing straight into Yun Chun’s heart disappeared from her view—did she finally snap back to reality.

Yun Chun turned toward the window and discovered that someone had drawn the curtains.

She pursed her lips. “Sister Qingxue?”

Lu Qingxue’s voice sounded from behind her. “You guessed it was me that easily?”

Because only you would appear right when I was thinking of you.

Yun Chun twisted around.

Lu Qingxue wore a flowing azure gown, her hair tumbling loose like strands of seaweed, her skin so pale it bordered on translucent… though to others, she was utterly transparent.

Yun Chun studied the gown clinging to Lu Qingxue’s form. Its lines flowed smoothly, the tailoring impeccably fitted—nothing from the mortal realm could compare. No wonder Lu Qingxue conjured her own clothes.

It was truly beautiful.

All at once, Yun Chun recalled how Lu Qingxue changed outfits every day, each one breathtaking enough to leave her in awe.

So that was it.

Yun Chun’s gaze traveled from the gown to Lu Qingxue’s face. In the faint dimness, their eyes met. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

But as soon as the words left her mouth, Yun Chun froze.

Why would Lu Qingxue tell her? Death severed all ties to the living world—who would volunteer details of their past life?

Especially since she had never even asked.

Yun Chun expected an answer along those lines.

It didn’t come. Instead, Lu Qingxue explained, “I didn’t want you to know.”

Lu Qingxue stepped to Yun Chun’s side and brushed a hand gently against her cheek. “If you knew, you’d put pressure on yourself. You’d wonder if I’d picked you as my model back then because we knew each other—rather than because of your talent.”

The touch on her cheek was icy, scattering Yun Chun’s focus for a moment. Still, she tilted her head up to meet Lu Qingxue’s gaze.

Lu Qingxue had read her mind again, but Yun Chun had no desire to evade. She wanted an answer from her.

Sensing it once more, Lu Qingxue replied before Yun Chun could voice the question. “Our acquaintance was just a starting point. The real reason I chose you? You appealed to me.”

“When sifting through resumes, no matter how stacked they are, don’t you ultimately go by gut feeling?” she added.

“That feeling hit, and I knew it was you.”

Yun Chun’s chest tightened. She had been locked on Lu Qingxue’s eyes the whole time, and in that instant, she saw a shift in their depths—from serene lake waters to an ocean of profound affection. Those words didn’t sound like they were about hiring a model at all; they felt intensely personal.

“Besides, your resume back then was a blank slate. Utterly empty—no way to read anything into it. But that’s exactly why it held such promise: endless room to shape, infinite possibilities. Whether sketching or scripting on it, the imagination ran wild. I chose you because you were that blank slate. It had nothing to do with us knowing each other.”

Though there was one more thing…

Lu Qingxue’s eyes curved into a smile. She thought that if Yun Chun’s resume one day listed her as that first experience, it wouldn’t be half bad.

With that, Lu Qingxue tapped Yun Chun’s forehead lightly with her fingertip, snapping her out of her thoughts. Seeing the spark return to Yun Chun’s eyes, no longer distant, Lu Qingxue withdrew her hand and offered a warm smile. “And you’ve proven my judgment spot on, haven’t you?”