Once the date location was settled, next came the itinerary. Xia Fu squeezed Fang Jingcheng’s hand gently and asked,

“Could you take a photo of me at the Botanical Garden?”

Going to the makeup room before a competition was to get those initial points, but getting dressed up for a date and taking photos was purely for her “vanity.” As she made this request, her expression held not only expectation but also a hint of shyness.

Xia Fu’s request hit Fang Jingcheng right in the heart; this was precisely his intention in asking her out. The photographer from the modeling competition only cared about grand, sweeping scenes, lacking the refined taste Fang Jingcheng possessed. 

The occasion he had looked forward to for so long had barely captured even a fraction of the girl’s charm in those photographs.

Frustrated, Fang Jingcheng couldn’t help but sigh: a carefully polished treasure should only be captured by his own camera. Now, with his dream finally coming true, he smiled, his eyes curving as he replied, “It’d be my pleasure. Honestly, I’ve been wanting to do this for ages.”

Then, to reassure Xia Fu and set himself apart from some lousy stalker photographer, Fang Jingcheng added, “No wonder there are so many ‘male photographer’ jokes online. That guy at the last competition really was an amateur! Even though I don’t specialize in people, I could tell he wasn’t taking it seriously—it frustrated me for so long.”

“But if I’m the one taking it… it’ll definitely look stunning.”

As he gazed at Xia Fu’s serene face, Fang Jingcheng’s earlier irritation softened. Curling his fingers, he tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, his gesture gentle and affectionate, as though handling a delicate piece of art.

These small, tender actions sometimes make cheeks burn even more than passionate kisses.

Xia Fu recalled the glamorous champion photo from the academy website. She couldn’t imagine looking any more beautiful than that, so she chalked it up to sweet words typical of a wealthy young man. Oh well, as long as Fang Jingcheng wanted to take photos for her.

Xia Fu tilted her head, moving her fingers away from his, then pulled a small, elegant box from her pocket.

“In that case, I better wake up early to do my makeup; wouldn’t want to look bad in the photos.”

She tore off the transparent seal on the packaging, revealing a high-end lipstick. It lay quietly in her palm, ink-blue and polished, with a sleek metallic casing that reminded one of piano lacquer. Only the bottom, where the shade number was etched, was in a gleaming gold.

Besides the desire to enjoy her youth with her boyfriend, Xia Fu had another reason for agreeing to this date: her younger brother’s recent activities.

While Xia Fu was busy preparing for her competition, Xia Changqing hadn’t been idle either. After some training, he had become a worker at Boss Chen’s 4S auto shop, using the skills he’d picked up at technical school to work in auto care.

Since then, Xia Changqing’s social posts had taken on a new vibe, shifting from gaming screenshots to daily life at work. In one photo, he posed with a peace sign by a luxury car’s hood, in another, he was leaning over a pool table with some young guys, relaxing, and in another, he was holding up a dripping beer bottle in front of a table full of red crayfish. 

His captions were often borrowed from Boss Chen’s nuggets of wisdom: on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, it’d be something like, “Listening to Brother Chen’s advice is worth ten years of studying; finding a good leader means finding the right goal. We’re all just cogs in the machine nowadays. Who else will tell you how to get rich? Cheers, brothers, let’s have some real talk tonight.” 

And on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays: “Forge your own path, run free!” He was the very image of a streetwise youth.

Moreover, Xia Changqing’s tone had grown more seasoned, and his conversations with his sister had shifted from school complaints to advising his “sheltered sister from the ivory tower” on how to handle things.

“Some things, you only understand when you’re out in the real world. Today at the shop, we interviewed two girls for the front desk. One was great with office software but was way too timid and didn’t even know how to dress. The other was pretty and outgoing! Sure, she wasn’t as educated, but she was loud and eager to learn—totally different vibe!”

“Ever heard of image management? When it comes to interviews, it’s not just about your qualifications, it’s about your looks too. Who wants to look at someone with their head down and a sour face? In X Country, even women have to wear light makeup and heels in the workplace.”

He gave a lengthy speech and, just to show off a bit, he even attached a screenshot of a shipping order. Proudly, he added, “Luckily, I’ve been making some money lately. This lipstick’s for you—take care of yourself so you don’t end up a bookworm who can’t find a date, eating up our parents’ resources, and needing me, your little brother, to handle things for you someday.”

“Oh, and after you wear it, send a photo so I can get the front desk girl to give her feedback. You’ve got a decent foundation, right? As my sister, you can’t lose to anyone.”

Xia Fu had always valued opinions and worked hard to become a self-reliant, unstoppable working professional. She knew from the modeling competition that looking polished was part of being a successful finance professional, so theoretically, her brother’s words shouldn’t have ruffled her.

Before, she might have quietly fumed over the lipstick, but now, as she read her brother’s words, she felt an unbearable sense of frustration mixed with absurdity.

I’m not some timid, unwanted bookworm!

Xiaowei, Teacher Zhou, even Fang Jingcheng, all bore witness to her hard work!

People want to prove what they lack most.

Xia Fu wanted to yell out her dissatisfaction but held back, afraid of sparking more condescension. She could only vent her frustration to her handsome boyfriend.

Fang Jingcheng gently reassured her, “There’s no need to wake up early just to do makeup; you look great just as you are. But tell me what you’re wearing tomorrow, and I’ll match it with you.”

“Since it’s already bought, might as well use it.”

Xia Fu smiled, twisting open the lipstick and lightly dabbing the mauve shade on her lips. She pressed her pinky against her full lips, spreading the color, and asked her boyfriend,

“What do you think of this color?”

Like dye seeping into water, the rich plum lipstick blended with her natural lip color, making Fang Jingcheng think of dried rose petals in a glass bottle. The matte finish accentuated the delicate textures, more captivating than any vibrant flower, especially as her haphazard application left soft smudges along the edges, like an unintentional kiss mark.

Fang Jingcheng bit his lip, searching for words to describe the color, hoping to distract himself.

“It suits you well, like two little flower petals.”

“Really? Shame I can’t see the color clearly. Come closer.”

Gazing straight into Fang Jingcheng’s eyes, Xia Fu treated his ocean-blue gaze as a tiny mirror. But under the dim moonlight, she couldn’t make out the actual color. So, she leaned in and kissed him, pressing the beautiful hue onto his pale lips. Examining the painted “canvas” with satisfaction, she remarked, “Perfect. It looks great.”

“It’s my only lipstick; my family gave it to me. I’m not sure if it suits me, and I don’t have any other colors.”

Family-given lipstick?

Surprising. Although Xia Fu had tried to keep their relationship casual initially, even downplaying it, did she now see their relationship as one worth mentioning to her family?

This feeling of being valued filled Fang Jingcheng with a mixture of surprise and joy.

Unlike Xia Fu, who wasn’t particularly perceptive about social cues, Fang Jingcheng’s mind raced. He couldn’t help but wonder which family member had given her the lipstick.

With plenty of female friends around, he immediately recognized the lipstick as a classic model from a foreign luxury brand. It was a popular choice among older generations, though not as well-known among the younger crowd, who now preferred the glossy lip tints inspired by the K-wave.

So, it probably wasn’t her fashionable younger brother but an older relative.

Could it be her mother?

He imagined how families might encourage a young girl in love, supporting her with small gifts to enhance her appearance or advising her to “reciprocate the young man’s affection with a small gift in return.”

But he wasn’t about to give Xia Fu that chance to spend on him.

Feeling a surge of warmth, he smiled and promised, “No worries; I can buy you plenty more. Do you like lipsticks with little cat engravings, or something more elegant, like leather-cased ones?”

Since her main purpose was already achieved, Xia Fu no longer cared about the specific lipstick design. She wrapped her arms around Fang Jingcheng’s slim waist, burying her face against his warm chest, and mumbled, “I’ll like whatever you give me.”

See?

She didn’t need her brother’s high-handed concern; she could buy her own makeup with her hard-earned money, and Fang Jingcheng would give her whatever she wanted.

And yet, despite the pressing thought, “If your family doesn’t believe in you, who else will?” she could never share her frustration directly with her boyfriend. She could only mask it with playful words to ease the pain.

Torn between these emotions, her heart felt divided: one part nestled in the warmth of young love, while the other watched from a distance, analyzing her emotions with cool logic.