Chapter 69: Departing for Paris this morning, I'll contact haute couture workshops for you.
Zhao Wei came over to see if Xia Mian was settling in well. He found that Xia Mian was eating and sleeping well, so after chatting for a while, he went to visit other artists.
Xia Mian returned to her bedroom, lay on the bed, and happily fiddled with her phone.
After fiddling around for a while, he finally couldn't resist. He opened the WeChat chat window, found the ATM, and sent a 20,000 yuan red envelope... The actions were fluid and seamless.
The other party called back quickly: "Your account has been hacked?"
“…What did you mean, ‘stolen’!” Xia Mian was speechless. “I made money, so I’m sending you a share. Do you want it or not? If not, give it back to me.”
Zhou Pingchuan accepted the red envelope: "Did I invest in it?"
"Hmm... I'd say I'm a spiritual shareholder."
"Being able to receive dividends, it seems I'm doing a decent job as a spiritual shareholder."
Zhou Pingchuan was modest, but Xia Mian started to put on airs: "It's so-so. The revolution is not yet successful, comrades still need to work hard."
However, Xia Mian was quite satisfied with Zhou Pingchuan's reaction; she felt more satisfied when he sent her money instead of photos.
Xia Mian clutched the blanket and rolled from the left end of the bed to the right, daydreaming as she rolled: "Maybe in the future I'll earn more and more money and be able to support you."
"Kept?" This term was quite novel; no one had ever mentioned it to Zhou Pingchuan.
"Yes, being kept. You have to pamper me, make me feel comfortable and happy, and I'll..."
As she spoke, Xia Mian inexplicably recalled fragments of her dream from that day.
Zhou Pingchuan used a deer antler staff...he...I...uh...
Ah! No! That scene is too stimulating, it'll make my blood boil. Xia Mian was so scared that she hung up the phone immediately.
"Beep—beep—beep—" Halfway through the conversation, the person suddenly disappeared. Zhou Pingchuan checked his phone, thinking that something had happened at Xia Mian's company.
Just then, his wet nurse, Xue Chunling, called him, so he didn't call back.
He answered Xue Chunling's call: "Aunt Xue."
"Pingchuan, are you not busy right now? Last time you mentioned asking Aunt Cheng to be your matchmaker, did she agree?"
"Agreed."
"So, have you helped me calculate the date?"
"There are two auspicious days left this year, one in November and one in December. Aunt Cheng means either one is fine."
It's October now, and two auspicious days are just around the corner. Xue Chunling beams with joy: "Great! We can get these important things done this year. I thought we'd have to wait until next year. You and Mianmian should discuss the date. Make sure you choose one he likes."
"Aunt Xue, I haven't told him yet."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Xue Chunling said anxiously. "Marriage is a matter between two people. It needs to be discussed and agreed upon. You can't make decisions on your own. Besides, the sooner you know, the sooner you can prepare. It only happens once in a lifetime, so don't leave any regrets."
After she finished speaking, Xue Chunling belatedly realized that she had spoken too hastily.
Zhou Pingchuan wasn't her biological son, and she was afraid he would overthink it.
"Pingchuan, just now I..."
“Aunt Xue,” Zhou Pingchuan interrupted her, “It’s not that I don’t want to tell Xia Mian, it’s just that Zhou Ting’s wedding hasn’t been held yet. If I tell her, it will cause the younger generation to suffer, both publicly and privately.”
Zhou Pingchuan is the head of the family. In such a hierarchical family, if the head of the family announces his marriage, everything must give way to him.
Even Zhou Ting's wedding, though the date has been chosen, will have to be postponed until after Zhou Pingchuan registers their marriage—or even after the wedding ceremony itself. This is a rule set by our ancestors.
Because he was born late, Zhou Pingchuan had a distant relationship with his siblings, except for his eldest brother, who treated him with great affection. As the saying goes, the eldest brother is like a father. If Xue Chunling played the role of "mother" in his life, then his eldest brother, who was more than twenty years older than him, definitely deserved the title of father.
Xue Chunling was aware of this as well, and for this reason, she often cared about Zhou Ting's diet, daily life, and living conditions, because she loved him so much that she extended that care to him as well.
“I was being inconsiderate just now. A-Ting is a good kid, we really should give way to him. There are only a few days left anyway, we can announce it after his wedding,” Xue Chunling sighed. “I’m mainly worried about Mianmian, afraid he’ll be anxious. Why don’t you tell him first? You two can secretly start preparing, especially your clothes. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime event, you have to dress appropriately.”
Zhou Pingchuan didn't distrust Xia Mian; people can unconsciously reveal secrets through their state and expression. In this respect, he trusted himself more.
However, his wet nurse reminded him of something: both sides needed to wear formal attire for the betrothal ceremony. Little Rose loved beauty so much that she would definitely have her clothes made in advance. If she didn't have anything to wear on the day of the ceremony, she would kick and stomp on him again.
The Gulfstream refrigerator at home had been empty recently. After thinking for a moment, Zhou Pingchuan called back.
"My phone suddenly stopped working," was the explanation I received.
“It’s alright,” Zhou Pingchuan asked. “Do you have time tomorrow?”
Filming for "Our Little Life" will begin next week, and this is his last vacation. Xia Mian nodded: "Yes."
"We're leaving for Paris this morning. I'll contact a haute couture workshop for you, and you can have a few outfits made."
These days, almost everyone with a little money has done haute couture. But not all haute couture is the same. Some special styles are not for everyone. The brand needs to conduct a thorough evaluation before handing them over to the people they deem suitable.
People choose clothes hoping they will make them look beautiful; clothes also choose people hoping they will give them value.
For example, that one-of-a-kind brooch was coveted by countless socialites and wealthy young men, but only Zhou Pingchuan could obtain it.
The haute couture that Zhou Pingchuan arranged for him must be rare, or even unique.
Xia Mian pursed her lips: "Why...did you suddenly think of making clothes for me?"
Zhou Pingchuan: "To make you happy."
Why are you trying to comfort me? Did you do something wrong?
"So you can take care of me."
Dead memories suddenly launched a frenzied attack.
My summer-drowsy phone is malfunctioning again.
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