You seem quite happy.

Jiang Songhe stood there with a frown, feeling disgusted for a long time. In her thirties, this was the first time she had been taken advantage of, especially by a man.

Well, it's not the first time.

"Yan Jin" arrived late, and Jiang Songhe's heart skipped a beat again. She suddenly remembered the photo that stylist Grace had posted on WeChat Moments. The person who had truly taken advantage of him for the first time was very likely to attend Wu Fang Si's show tonight, but she didn't know in what capacity.

Lately, Jiang Songhe has been focused on clearing up landmines and filling in the gaps. Whenever there is a slight hint of something related to Jonathan, he immediately suppresses it as if facing a major enemy, so as not to be disturbed and affect his decision-making.

I should have thought of it sooner; if I had, I could have refused sooner.

If I had refused, I wouldn't be in this situation now, where I'm about to become a naked fish, tearing my hair out and jumping around on the chopping block in front of more than one player.

Jiang Songhe closed his eyes in regret, his mind torn between being a gentleman and playing the fool.

"Mr. Jiang?"

A woman's voice suddenly came from above. Jiang Songhe looked up along the steps—

Pointed-toe boots, knee-length A-line skirt, gun holster belt, high-necked black shirt, and a tightly combed hairstyle. Due to the backlighting, her face was not clearly visible, only the sides of her face and large pearl earrings were clearly visible.

“Yes.” Jiang Songhe raised an eyebrow, without moving.

The woman expertly pulled out a walkie-talkie from her holster: "He's here. Change Andy back into his old suit. Get ready, I'll bring him up now."

He then strode down the stairs, stood beside Jiang Songhe, and gestured for her to come upstairs: "Please follow me."

The woman's face overlapped with the face in the group photo. Her expression and tone were professional and polite, neither frivolous nor impatient, only with a reasonable urging.

"Mr. Jiang, you need to rehearse in fifteen minutes." The woman put the walkie-talkie back into its holster and spread her hands.

Having been caught red-handed by the head stylist, Jiang Songhe had no choice but to abandon her "playing the fool" and other ulterior motives, and followed the others upstairs to the ballroom that had been requisitioned as a fitting room.

The fitting room was bustling with people, and the low, dense buzzing of the English-Chinese bilingual language created a vibrant atmosphere. Amidst the sea of ​​uniformly colored fabrics, everyone was busy with their own tasks in a chaotic yet orderly manner, and no one paid any attention to Jiang Songhe's presence.

The models around the gantry were still adjusting their poses. Their clothes were more like ready-to-wear, completely unlike the group of people downstairs who were barely clothed. It's probably because the scale of the models in the fashion show and the performance is different.

Jiang Songhe secretly breathed a sigh of relief and asked Grace in a low voice, "What should I wear?"

"GRACE" took the dust bag from his assistant with one hand, pointed to the row of mobile tents at the far end of the space with the other, and replied, "Jeans."

The jeans were acceptable, and Jiang Songhe breathed a sigh of relief.

Considering that she had spent some time downstairs, resulting in less than ten minutes to prepare, Jiang Songhe gave up on changing in the car and, carrying the light dust bag, went straight to a mobile tent in the far corner.

Jiang Songhe unzipped the zipper and stepped inside, then unzipped it back up from the inside.

As the light inside the tent dimmed, he fumbled to hang the dust bag on the hook at the top, took out a long strip of clothing and draped it over his forearm, quickly took off his suit and trousers, rolled them up neatly and put them into the bottom of the dust bag, then deftly put on his jeans.

It fits well, Jiang Songhe's hand touched the cool, smooth fabric, running it from the waistline to the trouser seam, and he clicked his tongue.

Without the waistband of boxer shorts to cover it, the waist dimples and the upper edge of the iliac crest would be exposed. Moreover, the pants are too tight, so even without standing in front of a mirror, one would know that the curves of the lower body would be completely visible.

Going braless is out of the question, but Jiang Songhe is, after all, a business agent who understands the importance of exclusivity. Even if she doesn't have a brand of her own and is just repaying a favor, she knows that she can't let the polo logo on her waist appear on the WANTON WU runway.

Let's see what the shirt looks like first, just in case it can cover it up, he thought hopefully. He took off his tie, unbuttoned his shirt, and reached into the dust bag.

However, apart from a jingling ball of beads on the clothes hanger, there was nothing else. It turned out that when "GRACE" said he was wearing jeans, he meant he was only wearing jeans.

Jiang Songhe's scalp is a little itchy.

Just as she was getting frustrated, a familiar male voice came from outside the tent: "Jiang Songhe, what are you dawdling about in there? The rehearsal is about to start!"

It was Wu Fangsi, the person who owed her favors.

"Wearing the same pair of pants for so long?! Is it ill-fitting or what? Come out here so I can take a look. If there's a problem, get them adjusted right away! You're already late, and you don't have much time left!!" The creditor blocked the door, urging him to hurry up.

Frustrated by the urging, Jiang Songhe, in a fit of desperation, unzipped his pants and stepped out of the tent, his clothes disheveled. He expected to be met with a gloating face, but instead, he saw a serious and anxious expression.

“It’s fine…” Wu Fangsi, dressed casually in a black T-shirt, black pants, and black leather boots, with no hint of mockery in his eyes, circled around Jiang Songhe, looking her over, and asked, “So, is there a problem?”

The other party was professional, so there was no reason for me to be coy.

Jiang Songhe took a deep breath to suppress his anger, swallowed the words "Are you kidding me?" that were on the tip of his tongue, and firmly stated the reason and bottom line. After Wu Fangsi pondered for a moment, she asked her assistant to quickly bring over a box of unopened silver-trimmed boxer shorts.

“You might need to know something.” Seeing that Jiang Songhe’s mouth moved as if he wanted to bring up something else, Wu Fangsi narrowed his eyes and smiled sinisterly, “Gay is just a sexual orientation, not the kind of sexuality that makes you want to sleep with any man who shows a little skin. I’m organizing a fashion show, not a Hainan Rendez-Vous.”

"..." Jiang Songhe was caught off guard and was speechless for a moment.

Wu Fangsi tossed the box to Jiang Songhe: "So now, can you please cooperate with me without worry, Mr. Jiang?"

Jiang Songhe lowered her eyes and caught the box, then looked closely at the style of the pants.

The cool, smooth, and bouncy part I just touched shows how the fabric changes shape with the angle of the light, creating a gently undulating wave pattern that extends from the waistline down to the calves. Through a seamless overlay process, it connects to the rest of the washed blue denim leg.

Objectively speaking, it's very good.

"Sorry, it was my fault." Jiang Songhe said no more and went back into the tent.

The tent was zipped up all the way, and Wu Fangsi winked at Yuan, then clapped her hands twice: "Makeup artist and hairstylist? The big model rehearsal is over, take them to the dressing room immediately."

When Jiang Songhe came out of the tent after changing all his lower garments, Wu Fangsi had already disappeared, and only "GRACE" was standing opposite him. He was already shirtless at this time. Although he knew that the other party was a stylist he had never met before, he still felt a little chilly and uncomfortable because of the difference between men and women.

"Uh, this." Jiang Songhe held the two ends of the jingling beaded chain in one hand, looking troubled, and asked, "Where is it worn?"

"Let me do it." The stylist took the chain with both hands, unfolded it, and gave it a gentle shake. Countless beads immediately returned to their tracks obediently. She hooked her three free fingers downwards and said, "Please nod your head."

Jiang Songhe considered herself completely clueless about fashion. Although she didn't know why men's fashionistas would wear such a complicated and cumbersome pearl necklace, she still lowered her head and did as she was told, with some skepticism.

"GRACE" deftly tightened the buckles at both ends, spread his hands up and down, and put the necklace around Jiang Songhe's neck like a flower wreath. Then he told him to stand up straight, came behind him, and adjusted the dangling part that resembled a back cloud and served as a balance.

"That's fine. You can wear the other accessories after you come back from rehearsal and after your makeup and hair are done."

"GRACE" turned to face Jiang Songhe, took one last look at the overall look, and then picked up the walkie-talkie again to connect to a channel: "The models are in position. Thank you, show director, for coming to the fitting room."

There was a full-length mirror standing against the wall to the side. While waiting, Jiang Songhe turned his heavy neck and glanced at it.

It wasn't as bad as I'd expected. The pearl necklace in front of me was quite large, with the longest silver strips hanging down to my waist. As long as my upper body didn't sway violently when I walked, it should be about the same size as the front of a regular piece of clothing.

...

Jiang Songhe was handed over to the show director and, wearing disposable slippers, walked from upstairs to downstairs, stopping and starting along the route of the official show. On the main hall runway, which served as the final stop, after the show director gave a summary of the precautions, she was told that she could go back to the second floor to get her makeup and hair done.

For the formal runway show, participants were required to walk barefoot. To get used to it in advance, Jiang Songhe simply took off her slippers, carried them in her hands, and walked back and forth on the silver-gray carpet laid out according to the route.

It would be a lie to say that he wasn't nervous at all, but there was no use being nervous now that things had come to this. Jiang Songhe could only recall the words he had used to help Jiang Songyun not be nervous many years ago and apply them to himself.

When the lights are on, just imagine that the people behind you are all giant, lifeless pumpkins.

Jiang Songhe suddenly recalled her younger brother's innocent and obedient appearance when he was young, and chuckled as she stared at her toes as she stepped onto the stairs.

Just then, a pair of pearl-decorated, upturned leather shoes came into view, facing the oncoming traffic. Jiang Songhe's smile hadn't faded yet, and she subconsciously stepped aside to make way, looking up at them.

The newcomer was followed by a burly man who was walking down from the second floor. He was holding a blue-white gradient microphone, but Jiang Songhe blocked his way, and his hand stopped moving along with his steps.

Bathed in the light of the wall lamp at the corner of the stairs, the white shirt made the person's skin appear almost translucent and fair. Soft, damp silver hair was swept back, revealing a smooth forehead. The shimmering light from the conch shell ornament on the scarf caught the eye, adding a touch of allure...

Jiang Songhe's smile gradually disappeared between her parted lips.

"You seem quite happy." Jonathan walked down the stairs expressionlessly, grinding his teeth as he uttered this indifferent remark. He then scrutinized Jiang Songhe from head to toe, immediately turning his head away in disgust and brushing past her as he went downstairs without even glancing at her.

Wasin followed closely behind, his imposing figure, like a human wall, crowding the narrow, enclosed space. Before long, the airflow at the end of the stairs returned to normal, and a wisp of air rose up—a lighthearted comment from the top singer.

"It's so ugly."