A Beijing socialite stole my boyfriend; she went crazy after I got married.

As it turns out, that person really did keep their word.

The day after returning home, Jiang Chu met with the tailor team that had come to her door.

Jiang Chu: "..."

She doesn't actually lack clothes, but she doesn't own many pieces of traditional Hanfu, since she doesn't usually wear them.

The team consisted of three people: an elderly gentleman with gray hair and beard, and two middle-aged apprentices.

The old gentleman introduced himself as Mr. Shen, saying he was a master craftsman in Beijing specializing in high-end cheongsams and restored Hanfu, and had made costumes for leading actors in many films and television dramas in his early years.

Jiang Chu was a little embarrassed, but she still cooperated and stood in front of the full-length mirror.

Master Shen doesn't talk much, but he uses the measuring tape in his hand with great skill.

When measuring shoulder width, a light press with the fingertip reveals the bone structure; when measuring waist circumference, the tape measure slides along the fabric with such precision that it doesn't feel like a manual measurement, but rather like a machine scan.

As he recited the numbers, his two apprentices quickly scribbled them down in their notebooks, occasionally exchanging a few words in hushed tones about the choice of fabric and embroidery thread.

"Ms. Jiang usually dances, so her shoulders and back have excellent lines, which suits her well in cross-collar and open-necked styles."

Master Shen put away the measuring tape. "Making wide-sleeved shirts will also be very elegant. I'll make a few sample designs first, and you can choose the one you like to have made. There's no rush."

The team packed up and left in less than half an hour.

Over the weekend, several huge custom-made gift boxes were delivered to the villa on Yunxiang Road.

Jiang Chu opened the first box, inside was a crescent-colored cross-collar ruqun (a type of traditional Chinese dress), covered by a gossamer-thin, wide-sleeved blouse. The cuffs and hem were embroidered with sparse orchid patterns in silver thread, which shimmered faintly under the light.

The second garment was a dark blue long jacket with a front opening, the collar and sleeve edges trimmed with dark crimson intertwined floral patterns, giving it a dignified and serene appearance. It was paired with a moon-white skirt with fine pleats that created a shimmering, water-like effect when the wearer moved.

The third item was a pomegranate red ruqun (a type of traditional Chinese dress) with a high waist, and the waistband was embroidered with a pair of parrots holding necklaces. The color scheme was bold and vibrant, but it was not at all gaudy.

Jiang Chu picked up each item one by one to examine them, and couldn't help but sigh inwardly: It's so good to be rich.

The fabrics are exquisite, and the details are meticulously crafted. It retains the form and spirit of classical clothing while making modern adjustments to the waistline and cuffs.

It won't look like a theatrical costume when you wear it.

the most important is--

She found several pieces of clothing that she could use as costumes for her competition performance.

A thick stack of documents had already piled up on Jiang Chu's desk.

Literature from neuroscience, anthropology, and performing arts studies was piled up together, marked with sticky notes of different colors, and some headers were covered with dense annotations in illegible handwriting that only she could read.

She had already laid out the framework for the article.

She focuses on the topic of "the primitive grammar of movement," starting from the neural mechanisms by which infants acquire movement patterns, then moving upwards to ritual dance in an anthropological sense, and finally back to the use of "non-learned bodily memory" in contemporary dance creation.

So I need to start working on my competition video.

She propped her phone up on the corner of her desk, turned on the recorder, and began drawing structural diagrams on a blank sheet of paper, humming a tune as she drew, gradually incorporating the scattered movement images in her mind into the logic of the choreography.

After finishing a drawing on a piece of paper, crumple it up and start drawing again.

Then rub it off again, and do it again.

Before the next weekend, she worked out a transitional exercise at the gym.

She had already rewritten this section three times, always feeling that something was wrong, like a piece of a puzzle was missing and the shape didn't match.

The music was on; it was a preview version she had edited herself, with deep strings and clear flute sounds overlapping, carrying a kind of poetry that seemed to emanate from bygone days.

She paused at one point, stared at the lines of her arms in the mirror for a few seconds, then paused the music and repeated the movement from the starting position.

Slow down, and slow down again.

Footsteps came from the doorway.

Jiang Chu didn't turn around, assuming it was the butler delivering something. "Uncle Wang, just put it over there, thank you."

A few seconds later.

She saw Xie Jing's reflection in the large mirror.

The man took off his coat, revealing a dark casual shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. The top button of his collar was undone, indicating that he had been back for a short time.

He was carrying a tray with a special sports drink and a small dish of sliced ​​oranges on it, which he had probably received from the butler.

Xie Jing looked at her quietly, his handsome features appearing particularly deep under the lamplight.

Jiang Chu turned around, saw the tray in his hand, and then looked at his face.

He was noticeably tired today, and his expression was more tense than usual.

"...Are you still busy with things over there?"

Jiang Chu took the drink and sat down on the small sofa.

A few days ago, Xie Jing mentioned that one of the group's new energy projects in Southeast Asia encountered a sudden tightening of local policies, and the attitude of the partner also became ambiguous.

"It's not just this," Xie Jing said, placing the tray on the shelf. "But this is indeed troublesome. The local energy department has a new regulatory team, and the terms agreed upon by the previous team need to be renegotiated. The new people haven't figured out what they want yet."

Jiang Chu thought for a moment, "Could we just have a meal with the Minister of Energy? I mean, a meal in name only, but actually a meal with money, to get the relationship straight and save those people below from constantly trying to change things up?"

Xie Jing glanced at her. "That's not how the local political environment works. When a new team comes in, the first thing they do is to draw a clear line between themselves and their predecessor. If you approach them rashly at this point, you'll be seen as one of their people."

"So, we'll wait for them to contact you first?"

"It will probably take another two weeks for them to consolidate their power positions, and then someone will come to make contact with them."

"Hmm," Jiang Chu rested her chin on her hand, frowning, "two weeks... In these two weeks, what about the partner? Will they take the opportunity to negotiate terms?"

Xie Jing sat down next to her, picked up the plate of oranges, and handed her a piece of orange with a skewer on it.

"They're already in talks. They want to use this window of opportunity to increase their shareholding. The previously agreed-upon 30/70 split is now being changed to 40/60."

"I can't agree to that," Jiang Chu said firmly, taking the orange and taking a bite. Then, after a moment's thought, she added, "...Right?"

"We can't agree," Xie Jing chuckled at her expression, "but we can't refuse outright either. We need to make them feel there's still room for negotiation. Once the local policies reopen, Tianyu will regain its leverage, and then this topic will naturally become irrelevant."

Jiang Chu seemed to understand something. "So what you need to do now is to do nothing."

"That's roughly it."

"What's so annoying about that?" Jiang Chu narrowed her eyes. "Is your obsessive-compulsive need for control acting up again?"

Xie Jing raised his eyebrows slightly, looking at her mischievous little cat-like expression, and suddenly reached out his hand.

Jiang Chu smoothly propped herself up and flipped herself over behind the sofa.

Xie Jing picked up a piece of orange. "Maybe."

Jiang Chu glared at him while holding onto the sofa.

Xie Jing looked at where she had been standing in the mirror. "During that movement, when you shifted your weight, you were resisting. For a part of the time, you were using your strength to support yourself instead of giving in."

Jiang Chu stared at him for two seconds, then turned back to the mirror and repeated the action.

This time, I deliberately relaxed my resistance at the point where the focus shifted.

The transition that had been stuck three times suddenly went smoothly.

She stopped in her tracks. "...Oh right."

Xie Jing leaned back on the sofa and looked at her, a smile appearing in his eyes. "You're welcome."

Jiang Chu ran over, sat on his lap, hugged him, and gave him a big kiss. "You're truly my wonderful wife!"

Xie Jing smiled and said, "Then I am honored."