Song Shang reclined lazily in the chair, his upturned peach blossom eyes carrying a hint of mockery, and said, word by word, "Best wishes?"
Zhu Hao pursed her lips slightly, nodded gently, and shifted her gaze to Zhuo Shishan beside her, a look of confusion on her face.
Zhuo Shishan forced a stiff smile, her bright and cheerful face filled with pain, and her dark circles revealed her exhaustion.
“We have a collaboration with Teacher Song for endorsements,” Zhuo Shishan explained softly, her tone low and tinged with helplessness. “I’m currently finalizing the details of the clothing with Teacher Song, and we’ve had a slight disagreement. He said he wants some talented designers to continue our collaborations, and I recommended you to him. This project can also be used as an internship assessment project to see how capable you are.”
After speaking, Zhuo Shishan pushed the documents in her hand in front of Zhu Hao, winked at her, and silently said, "Don't care about his preferences, just do what you like and torture him to death."
Zhu Hao's eyes widened for a moment, then he gave a wry smile, reached for the stack of documents on the table, and casually flipped through them.
At the same time, Song Shang sat up straight, his dark eyes fixed on Zhu Hao, scrutinizing her profile.
Her soft facial features appeared slightly cold and sharp under the cold incandescent office lights. Her well-fitting light business attire suppressed her childishness, while her long, straight, jet-black hair made her ethereal temperament stand out even more.
Song Shang raised an eyebrow slightly, tapping her fingertips lightly on the table. "I heard from Zhuo Shishan that you're still just an intern?"
Zhu Hao slightly lifted her eyelids, her gaze falling on Song Shang. Her lips curled into a straight line, and she deliberately raised her hand to sign, "Yes."
She didn't really want to associate with Song Shang. Her first impression of him was very bad; he was frivolous and flippant, and there was always an indescribable deep meaning in the way she looked at him.
However, Song Shang was not surprised at all by her use of sign language, and even continued the conversation calmly, "I actually trust Zhuo Shishan a lot, but we may have some differences in aesthetics. However, since she recommended you to me, I will trust you as much as I trust her."
As soon as he finished speaking, Song Shang quickly picked up a piece of white paper and a pen, and began to scribble something.
Zhuo Hao pursed her lips, originally not wanting to pay attention to Song Shang. Just as she was about to tell Zhuo Shishan that she refused to take on the project, she accidentally caught a glimpse of the blueprints in Song Shang's hand.
In just a few seconds, a lifelike butterfly leaps onto the paper, its wings fluttering with patterns that spread like a bamboo forest, both chaotic and orderly, its antennae drooping slightly, looking both decadent and beautiful.
It's clearly a black charcoal sketch, but Zhu Hao inexplicably sees vibrant colors in it.
She paused as she closed the file, then unconsciously moved closer to Song Shang, bending slightly. Her long, black hair fell with her movement, the tips landing on the drawing and brushing against the butterfly.
Song Shang, who was drawing intently, trembled slightly and almost dropped his pen, causing the butterfly on the paper to deviate slightly.
A pleasant, refreshing fragrance wafted into his nostrils, disrupting his breathing and his heartbeat.
However, Zhu Hao was so engrossed in the blueprints in Song Shang's hands that she did not notice Song Shang's unusual behavior.
They even moved closer to see the contents of the blueprints better.
Song Shang quickly composed himself, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly. His gaze fell on the tip of Zhu Hao's hair, and after a moment, he returned his thoughts to the drawing paper.
The black pen tip took a turn, correcting the mistake made earlier, and adding a touch of diamond tear to the tail of the butterfly's wings.
Zhu Hao raised an eyebrow in surprise, lifted her eyelids, glanced at Song Shang who was looking serious, pulled out a blue colored pencil from the table, and gently touched the butterfly antennae on the drawing paper.
Song Shang paused in his painting, looked up at her in surprise, and asked incredulously, "How did you know I wanted to use blue?"
Zhu Hao's round eyes paused for a moment, then she curled her lips into a slightly arrogant smile, as if she knew perfectly well.
Song Shang's painting inspiration came from a forest family portrait painted by Steve, a foreign portrait artist, for his family.
Zhu Hao really liked this artist's painting style; it looked familiar, and she recognized it at a glance.
Based on this painter's usual use of color, butterflies are typically blue and green.
What surprised her was that few people knew this painter, let alone that anyone could apply the inspiration from portrait painting to clothing design.
So when she saw Song Shang paint the butterfly in the style of this painter, she couldn't help but be drawn to it.
Zhu Hao maintained her slightly bent-over posture, gently poking the butterfly's antennae with the tip of her pen, and raised an eyebrow at Song Shang with a smug look, as if urging him to hurry up.
Song Shang tilted his head slightly, staring up at Zhu Hao's fair face.
Her smug expression made it impossible to dislike her; instead, she seemed like a proud cat showing off her prized possession.
Song Shang could easily hear his heart pounding violently in his chest. He became somewhat dazed and suddenly felt that the girl in front of him should be the alluring nine-tailed fox.
Song Shang suddenly grinned and chuckled, teasingly saying, "What's the rush? The line drawing isn't finished yet."
Zhu Hao pursed his lips, said nothing, placed the pen and documents in his hand on the table, took out a light green colored pencil, placed it on top of the drawing, and then sat down on the sofa opposite him.
Song Shang glanced down at the two pens, one blue and one green, a slight smile playing on his lips, and quietly finished drawing the line drawing.
Zhuo Shishan didn't notice anything unusual about Song Shang at all; she only paid attention to Zhu Hao.
Seeing that Zhu Hao was interested in Song Shang's drawings and even sat down opposite him, she looked surprised.
She hadn't expected that Zhu Hao and Song Shang, that fastidious man, would have the same aesthetic sense. How come she hadn't noticed this when she collaborated with Zhu Hao on the clothing design for their previous brand ambassador?
She picked up her pen and tapped the table lightly.
Song Shang glanced at her sideways, his raised tone subtly tinged with smugness and boastfulness, "Looks like my taste matches your intern's perfectly?"
Zhuo Shishan rolled her eyes subtly, but with a polite smile on her face, "In that case, that would be perfect."
Zhu Hao glanced at the colored pencils on the table, picked out a dark blue one, and gently pushed it in front of Song Shang, silently urging him on.
Song Shang smiled knowingly, his tone carrying a hint of doting affection, "I know, you've been urging me several times already."
Zhu Hao felt something was off about him and looked him up and down with a hesitant gaze.
Song Shang shrugged indifferently, looked at Zhuo Shishan with a playful expression, and said in a teasing tone, "Looks like we don't need to torture each other anymore."
Zhuo Shishan held her breath, forcing a smile as she comforted him, "How could working with Teacher Song be mutual torture? It's my honor."
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com