Sweetie, don't look at him, kiss me.

The plane landed in Paris at 2 p.m. local time; the sun was bright but not scorching.

Fang Shiyang met Lin Qingmian at the arrival gate. As soon as he saw her, he quickly walked up to her with an apologetic expression: "We've found out why those suppliers terminated their contracts. Someone bought them out at double the price."

"who."

Fang Shiyang glanced at Ji Linzhou, as if to confirm whether he already knew, before saying, "Su Tingwan."

Lin Qingmian stood next to the luggage carousel, showing no surprise.

From the moment Su Tingwan appeared in the lobby of the Paris Hotel, she had a vague feeling that something was amiss.

She just didn't expect that she would do it this way.

"I've already contacted the local supplier for the fabric. I've seen the samples. The texture is a little thinner than the original, but the color and drape match."

Fang Shiyang opened his phone and handed it to him, saying, "If it's for an emergency, we can arrange for the goods today."

Lin Qingmian took the sample image, glanced at it, swiped her finger across the screen, and then handed it back: "Okay. We'll use this one."

Ji Linzhou stood beside her without saying a word until Fang Shiyang turned to make a phone call, at which point he finally spoke: "Are you just going to let it go like this?"

"The fact that she bought out my suppliers shows that she still can't let go of them."

Lin Qingmian said, "But this show in Paris is my own business. Whether she's coming for me or for the Ji family, I have to finish the show. Only after I've walked the show and gotten the results can she be considered completely out of the game."

He didn't comment after listening; he simply helped her lift her suitcase off the carousel and pushed the cart toward the exit.

Lin Qingmian walked beside him and saw his phone screen light up briefly. He glanced at it and then put it away, his expression unchanged, but she still caught that moment.

Who posted this?

"They're relatives from my mom's side of the family," he said. "I'd like to invite them to dinner."

"Your stepmother's family."

"Um."

Did you go?

"Didn't reply."

He handed the luggage cart to the driver who came to pick him up, opened the back door for her to get in first, and then followed him in. "Let's take care of the show first. The rest isn't urgent."

Lin Qingmian understood what was going on after hearing the words "no rush".

He probably already has everything in order; she's in the front row, and the old grievances are in the back.

She didn't ask any more questions, leaning back in her seat and watching the street scenes flash by outside the car window. The plane tree leaves in Paris were turning yellow, and when the wind blew, they fell and covered the streets.

For the next two days, she was busy changing fabrics and fine-tuning the pattern in the studio arranged by Fang Shiyang.

The new fabric is thinner than the original, and the stitch density and drape need to be recalculated. She stays there from nine in the morning to ten at night every day, only eating one work meal in between.

On the afternoon of the third day, during the final rehearsal before the show, she stood to the side of the stage watching the male model walk through the lit area wearing the altered misty blue shirt. The fabric shimmered under the spotlights, and every fold fell where it should.

She watched the entire rehearsal from the shadows, and when she went backstage, she discovered that Fang Shiyang had brought Ji Linzhou in at some point.

He leaned against a metal clothes rack full of sample garments, holding a steaming cup of coffee in his left hand, while his right index finger unconsciously tapped the cup.

His gaze swept past the rim of the cup and landed on the production process chart posted on the opposite wall. His brows furrowed slightly, as if he were checking some important data.

Sunlight lazily filtered through the gaps in the blinds, casting dappled shadows on his sharply defined profile.

The light slanted across the room, making his tall figure appear even longer, casting a silent silhouette on the floor.

The entire afternoon was thus divided into two halves by this beam of sunlight, interwoven with light and shadow, and he stood quietly at the boundary between light and shadow, like an unfinished sketch.

Seeing her approach, he handed her the cup of coffee: "How was the rehearsal?"

"good."

She took it and drank a sip. It was room temperature, neither too hot nor too cold, a temperature she could tolerate.

"How did you get in? They usually don't let people in from the back."

"I told him I was a sponsor," he said.

She glanced at him, her lips twitched slightly, but she didn't say anything.

She put the coffee cup back in his hand and turned to check the position of the buttons on the male model's cuffs.

Ji Linzhou stood there holding the cup of coffee she had taken a sip of, glanced down at the faint lip print on the rim of the cup, and then took a sip himself.

Fifteen minutes before the show started, the backstage was already in chaos. Makeup artists were touching up the makeup of the last male model, stagehands were checking the angle of the stage lights, and Fang Shiyang was making phone calls to confirm the entry time with the media.

Lin Qingmian stood outside the crowd watching all this, holding the main sample garment that was to be displayed in the final product in her hand, her fingers tracing the small tag with her initials embroidered on the inside of the collar.

Fang Shiyang strode closer, leaned down slightly to his ear, and whispered, "Su Tingwan is here." His gaze swept across the front of the room without making a sound. "She's sitting in the second row, wearing sunglasses. Quite low-key."

Lin Qingmian didn't look up: "Let her see eight."

The backstage area fell silent for a moment the lights went out.

As the music started, the first male model walked onto the stage, his misty blue shirt gleaming softly under the spotlight.

Lin Qingmian stood in the shadows of the side curtain, watching the design go from her sketches to reality, passing through the audience's view piece by piece.

Ji Linzhou sat in the middle of the first row, without his phone in his hand or looking at the program booklet, just staring at the booth.

When the misty blue shirt, which was the final piece, appeared, the lights on both sides of the booth were adjusted to a different angle, and the texture of the fabric flowed under the light, like the surface of water being rippled by the wind and then smoothing out.

When the applause rang out after the show, Lin Qingmian walked out from the side curtain and stood at the front of the booth.

The spotlight shone on her head, making her squint slightly.

She saw Su Tingwan stand up from the second row, take off her sunglasses, look at her for a few seconds, and then turn around and leave the venue through the side door.

The figure paused for a moment in the doorway before being blocked by the closing door.

Lin Qingmian withdrew her gaze, bowed slightly to the audience, and then turned and walked back to the backstage area.

Fang Shiyang was already waiting backstage, holding his phone and handing it to her: "The brand just sent a message saying they hope to sign a long-term cooperation agreement with you."

As she took the message, Ji Linzhou walked in from the entrance, his steps quicker than she had expected.

He walked up to her, stopped, looked down at her, and spoke amidst the bustling background: "We're done."

"We're done," she said.

He looked at her, paused for two or three seconds amidst the noise, then reached out and tucked a strand of hair that was about to fall behind her ear. His fingertips paused when they touched her earlobe, and as he withdrew, they gently brushed against the small patch of skin behind her ear.

"Congratulations," he said.