When Wen Yin strode up, Shen Ziying sneered.
“What’s the matter? Has Designer Wen forgotten where she is—planning to give me a lecture now?” Her voice took on a thin, mocking lilt as she mimicked yesterday’s reprimand. “Shen Ziying, you should know your place. Admit your mistakes.”
She finished with a cold, contemptuous laugh. “Wen Yin, whatever I do is none of your business.”
Wen Yin closed the distance and tilted her head in a smile—an almost predatory curl that made the other two heirs in the car stare. Even Shen Ziying, spiteful as she was, couldn’t help but feel a jolt of envy. Wen Yin’s face was too perfect; it pricked at something ugly and jealous inside her more than once.
“Shen Ziying.” Wen Yin’s lips moved slowly, deliberately, the name drawn out like ice. The words sent a shiver through Shen Ziying as if frost had settled on her skin.
Wen Yin’s presence was sharp and commanding; she looked down at Shen Ziying from above. Instinctively, Shen Ziying tried to shrink back into the car—then Wen Yin’s hand shot out, clamping the front of her blouse and hoisting her up as if she were nothing more than a little chick.
The collar bit into Shen Ziying’s neck, leaving her suspended and gasping. Wen Yin studied her face as if cataloguing every mark. Shen Ziying felt that familiar prick of dread; she hadn’t expected how small and helpless she’d seem dangling there.
“What do you want?” she choked. No matter how she twisted and pulled, Wen Yin’s grip didn’t relent; the other boys whooped and fluttered nervously at the sight, unused to such a chilly, sinister scene.
“Wen Yin, let her go—if you hurt Ziying, the Shen family won’t let you off!” someone blustered, trying to sound threatening. They’d always relied on the Shen name to intimidate.
Wen Yin’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t care what tricks you use. But you’d better remember this.” Her hand loosened just enough to drop Shen Ziying forward like a discarded dog.
“The stupid stunt you pulled—no one will take the fall for you.” She bent and pressed her red lips to Shen Ziying’s ear, her breath cool against the shell.
“How about this for a headline: ‘New designer Shen Ziying accused of plagiarism’?” Her voice was low and icily casual, like a demon whispering a sentence that could ruin a life.
Shen Ziying’s color drained. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Wen Yin straightened, chin lifting, eyes cold as steel. “You tell me.” Then she turned and walked away.
Back home, Wen Yin shrugged off her coat and her gaze dropped to the collar where Qin had been straightening her. Fingers reached into the pocket almost without thinking. There, folded into the fabric, was a business card she hadn’t noticed before. She read the name aloud under her breath.
“Qili… Director Wu?”
—
When Shen Ziying arrived at Wen Zhi’s apartment, Wen Zhi was rifling through fresh-season samples sent by the major houses. Seeing Wen Ziying put an instant smile on the younger woman’s face; she rushed forward, dramatic tears and clinging like a spoiled sister.
“Zhi Zhi, you have no idea how awful she’s been,” she sniffed. Wen Zhi indulged the affection without objection, poking Shen Ziying’s cheek in an almost maternal way.
“What’s the matter? Didn’t I pressure LeR enough? Didn’t they fire her?” Wen Zhi said lightly, as if the whole thing were a trifling annoyance.
She couldn’t hide a small satisfaction thinking of Wen Yin’s morning humiliation. Shen Ziying’s grin widened, leaning into Wen Zhi’s shoulder as she continued the sycophantic act.
“That country bumpkin getting fired hasn’t made a dent. She still came here strutting like she owned the place.” Shen Ziying’s voice trembled with false scorn. “Looks like the Shen family’s useless—we couldn’t even make her behave. Lucky for us we’ve got you.”
Wen Zhi’s lips curved. “Don’t worry. Wen Yin won’t be smug for long.” Her tone had a thin, dangerous edge. “I want to see what company—if any—would hire a rookie with no power, no clout, and no real portfolio.”
Shen Ziying nodded enthusiastically. “Zhi Zhi, your next variety show appearance has to steal the whole spotlight. Don’t let that little bitch take all the attention.”
When Wen Zhi mentioned the show, a shadow crossed her smiling face for a moment. After a pause she nodded, expression going soft and unreadable. “I’ll make sure of it.”
Reassured, Shen Ziying let her worry slip. If she and Wen Zhi were this close, Wen Zhi wouldn’t abandon her.
That afternoon Wen Yin followed the address on the business card and found Qili’s headquarters. Qili was respected in design circles: not prolific, but the pieces they did release were all considered masterpieces. In terms of prestige, they even outshone LeR.
She typed a quick message to Qin: “Thanks.” There was no reply for a long stretch—Qin was probably swamped. After all, Wen Yin’s old team had been thrown into chaos because of Shen Ziying, and management was scrambling for solutions.
Wen Yin dialed the number on the card. The line was answered quickly. After a brief exchange she was invited upstairs to speak with the director in his office.
She masked her face with a surgical mask and sunglasses, then rode the elevator to the twelfth floor clutching her portfolio.
The director rose when she entered. Unlike Qin, he was a young man—calm, polished. “Wen Yin, hello,” he greeted.
Wen Yin removed some of her disguise and offered a polite smile and handshake. “Director Wu, hello. Qin mentioned me. I’m a new designer—still learning, but I have some ideas.”
“I saw you on the show,” Director Wu said, friendly and straightforward. “I appreciated your sensibility. Qin joked we should poach you. Turns out she wasn’t joking.” He flipped through the handful of designs she’d brought, then looked up. “I was actually at last week’s show.”
Wen Yin raised an eyebrow—exactly what she’d expected.
“I like your work,” he continued. “Given what happened, I’d like to invite you to join Qili.” He didn’t mince words; the offer came clean and clear. They discussed details and nailed down a start date before long.
A weight lifted off Wen Yin’s chest. She left the elevator, readjusted her mask and sunglasses, hugged her portfolio to her, and walked out.
As Shao Yinan was escorted in, he caught sight of a familiar figure from the corner of his eye.