Rose Wedding Dress
One August morning, Wang Jingnan arrived at Yayuan with wedding invitations. She stood at the studio entrance, watching Zhiwei busy at the mannequin; sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a soft glow on her profile.
"Weiwei."
Zhiwei turned around, still holding the measuring tape in her hand. When she saw the exquisite red invitation card in Jingnan's hand, a hint of surprise flashed in her eyes: "This is...?"
"I'm getting married," Jingnan said softly, a happy smile curving her lips.
Zhiwei put down the measuring tape and carefully examined her friend: "When did this happen? I didn't even notice."
"It's Attorney Zhou, a partner in our firm," Jingnan said gently. "We've worked together for so many years, and before we knew it, we'd reached this point."
A smile gradually appeared in Zhiwei's eyes: "Attorney Zhou... is that the partner who can always find loopholes for you in court?"
Jingnan nodded: "Yes, feelings develop over time. From work colleagues to life partners, it seems perfectly natural."
Zhiwei accepted the invitation, her fingertips gently tracing the gold-embossed lettering: "That's wonderful." Her voice was soft, yet it carried a sincere blessing.
She pulled Jingnan to sit down in the tea room and personally brewed a pot of Longjing tea: "Tell me, what would your dream wedding be like?"
Jingnan held her teacup, her eyes gentle: "I've always loved lush green forests, loved the little rosebuds on the verdant vines. I want my wedding to have a forest theme."
Zhiwei nodded thoughtfully and took out her sketchbook. The pencil scratched on the paper, and soon a sketch appeared on the paper—eight delicate rose vines hung down from the waist of the white wedding dress, adorned with budding roses, like branches naturally falling from the forest.
"This is it!" Jingnan exclaimed in delight, "This is the wedding dress of my dreams."
From that day on, Zhiwei turned down all unnecessary social engagements and dedicated the empty large bedroom in her studio to making wedding dresses. She personally selected the fabrics, visiting every silk shop in Beijing, and finally found a piece of Italian silk satin from an old craftsman. The fabric shimmered with a pearly luster under the light.
"Why go through all this trouble?" Jingnan couldn't help but ask, watching Zhiwei spend days searching for a single piece of fabric. "There are so many ready-made wedding dress brands on the market..."
"Because this is your wedding dress." Zhiwei stroked the silk satin, her gaze focused. "I want you to be the most beautiful bride on your most important day."
She invited four elderly embroiderers from Suzhou, who, wearing reading glasses, meticulously embroidered rose vines on silk satin. The embroidery room was filled with the fragrance of silk threads all day long, and Zhiwei often spent the entire day there.
"Make it denser here," she said to the embroiderer, pointing to the direction of the vines. "We want these roses to look like they're growing naturally in a forest."
Every time Jingnan came to try on clothes, she could see Zhiwei's dedication to details. The position of the eight vines was adjusted countless times, and the size and color of each rose had to be compared repeatedly.
"I remember you weren't this enthusiastic when you got married," Jingnan couldn't help but tease.
Zhiwei, who was kneeling on the ground adjusting the drape of the vines, looked up at the words, her eyes clear, and continued adjusting the details of Jingnan's shoulders: "This is my blessing for you. I hope you will wear this wedding dress and walk towards the one you truly love."
Looking at herself in her wedding dress in the mirror, Jingnan suddenly understood something. Every vine and every rose on that pure white wedding gown was filled with Zhiwei's most sincere wishes—happiness that she herself had never possessed, but which she truly hoped her friend could have.
On the eve of the wedding, Zhiwei stayed up all night. She personally made the final touches on the wedding dress, gazing at her creation in the morning light with a look of satisfaction in her eyes. On the wedding day, when Jingnan walked into the hall wearing that rose-patterned wedding dress, all the guests were amazed. The silk satin shimmered with a warm luster under the lights, eight rose vines cascaded naturally from the waist, and crimson roses bloomed on the skirt, as if the romance of an entire forest had been woven into this wedding gown.
"So beautiful." The guests whispered among themselves, their eyes following the bride's figure. Zhiwei stood in a corner of the hall, watching Jingnan walk towards the groom. When the groom lifted the veil and lowered his head to kiss the bride, Zhiwei's lips unconsciously curved into a smile. At that moment, she was genuinely happy for her friend.
Wedding photos and videos circulated on social media, and "Rose Wedding Dress" quickly became a trending topic. Countless brides-to-be contacted Zhiwei through various channels, hoping to have her design their wedding dresses.
"Ms. Shen, these are all the inquiries we received today," Shi Ya said, walking into the studio carrying a stack of documents. "More than thirty clients have expressed their willingness to pay any price."
Zhiwei was drawing a new design draft and said without looking up, "Reply to them that I only accept a limited number of wedding dress orders each year, and they need to schedule a meeting first."
"A face-to-face meeting?" Shi Ya asked, somewhat puzzled. "Do we need to screen clients?"
"A wedding dress is the most important garment a girl will ever wear." Zhiwei put down her paintbrush, her eyes serious. "I need to understand their stories and know their dreams so that I can design the most suitable wedding dress for them."
Over the next two years, Zhiwei only accepted orders from fifteen brides. Each wedding dress was unique: there was a ballet-themed wedding dress designed for lovers who met in a ballet class, with a skirt adorned with feathers; there was a book-themed wedding dress designed for couples who met in a library, with their favorite poems embroidered on the waistband; and there was a wedding dress designed for a bride whose cross-cultural relationship had come to fruition, perfectly blending Chinese and Western elements.
Each bride must first have several long talks with Zhiwei. She will prepare a pot of fine tea in the tea room of Yayuan and quietly listen to them tell their love stories. Sometimes they will cry, sometimes they will laugh, and Zhiwei will always listen patiently, and then sketch out their wedding dresses in her sketchbook.
"Why are you so obsessed with wedding dresses?" a bride couldn't help but ask while trying on dresses.
Zhiwei adjusted her veil and said softly, "Because I believe that every girl deserves to wear a wedding dress that best expresses herself on her most important day."
On Jingnan's second wedding anniversary, Zhiwei held a retrospective exhibition of wedding dresses at the "Wei Nian" flagship store in the China World Trade Center. Fifteen wedding dresses were quietly displayed under soft lighting, each accompanied by a story about the bride. At the entrance of the exhibition, the famous "Rose Wedding Dress" was placed in the most prominent position, its eight vines still hanging elegantly, and the rose-red roses still vibrant and beautiful.
On the opening day of the exhibition, Jingnan arrived with her husband. Standing in front of her wedding dress, her eyes slightly red, she said, "Weiwei, do you know? Every time I see this wedding dress, I think of your blessings for me."
Zhiwei gently hugged her: "That's because you deserve the best love."
The exhibition caused a sensation, with media outlets rushing to report on it, calling it the "most beautiful wedding dress exhibition." Some commentators even pointed out that these wedding dresses were not merely beautiful garments, but also a microcosm of contemporary women's views on love and relationships.
While organizing the exhibition materials, Shi Ya couldn't help but exclaim, "Ms. Shen, every wedding dress you designed is as beautiful as a dream..."
Zhiwei, who was adjusting the positions of the exhibits, smiled faintly upon hearing this: "I like to be a dreamer."
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