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A group of people was walking indoors when suddenly, a disbelieving voice was heard.
“Heh, I thought I was seeing things. What are you doing here?”
Jiang Linjin approached from not far behind them, walking at a leisurely pace with a surprised expression on his face.
“Don’t you never attend these kinds of events?”
Jiang Linjin looked as if he had seen a ghost.
He was a regular in the fashion scene. The Jiang family had risen through the entertainment industry, after all.
But his friend here had almost never attended events like this. Even for the company’s annual gala, he would just show his face, give a speech, and leave.
“Mr. Jiang,” everyone greeted Jiang Linjin politely.
It was normal for Jiang Linjin to attend events like this, so no one was surprised.
Tan Qishen glanced up at him but had no intention of responding.
The group stopped in front of the elevator.
The VIP elevator couldn’t fit them all, so only five people entered.
The French representative accompanied Tan Qishen and Jiang Linjin, along with Uncle Nan and one of Jiang Linjin’s assistants.
Jiang Linjin looked at his friend’s expression through the mirrored wall of the elevator and chuckled teasingly. He lowered his voice and said,
“You’re not watching the show—you’re watching the person, right?”
No matter how softly it was said, in the enclosed space, others still heard it.
Uncle Nan stood silently behind them.
Though his expression didn’t change, he looked just short of raising his hand in agreement.
He thought his young master also came for Miss Yan.
The Frenchman didn’t understand Chinese and stood quietly to the side.
Jiang Linjin was used to being ignored by Tan Qishen, and kept talking to himself,
“Did you two make up?”
Last night at “Lu Garden,” Tan Qishen looked like the whole world owed him a fortune. But today, he seemed a lot better—surely thanks to Miss Yan.
Just when Jiang Linjin thought Tan Qishen wouldn’t answer, he suddenly heard him hum in agreement.
He looked up—Tan’s face still elegant and cold, as if he hadn’t spoken at all.
Jiang Linjin laughed and suddenly had a thought.
“Let me guess, was it Miss Yan who invited you?”
A girlfriend walking the runway inviting her boyfriend to attend—it made sense.
And it would explain why Tan Qishen was here.
But when Tan heard that, his expression, already indifferent, suddenly turned darker.
Because he just remembered—Yan Man had never invited him to a show.
In the past year, she had walked hundreds of shows—big and small.
Yet not once had she invited him.
Jiang Linjin didn’t notice the subtle shift in his expression and kept talking,
“She didn’t invite you?”
“Then why did you come on your own?”
Tan Qishen’s brows furrowed deeper.
“Don’t tell me your artistic side suddenly woke up—” Jiang Linjin was still joking when a cold voice cut him off:
“Can you shut up?”
Tan Qishen frowned at him.
“Huh?” Jiang Linjin blinked, confused.
“You’re annoying.”
Just then, the elevator dinged open. Tan Qishen left first, striding out with his long legs.
Uncle Nan gave Jiang Linjin a look.
Jiang Linjin stared after Tan Qishen’s back, then shrugged at Uncle Nan like,
“What’s your young master’s deal now?”
Uncle Nan sighed silently and shook his head.
Let’s hope the young master wasn’t upset with Miss Yan.
Even the Frenchman, who didn’t understand Chinese, could sense the awkward atmosphere.
He looked to Jiang Linjin, silently asking if help was needed.
Jiang Linjin waved his hand with a smile and said in French,
“Ça va.” (It’s fine.)
He was used to his friend’s mood swings, and quickly followed.
Inside, preparations were going smoothly.
Before the formal runway show, there would be one final rehearsal to make sure everything was perfect.
There were dozens of models from over twenty countries. Among them, only Yan Man and Chu Yiling, from the same agency, represented China.
Chu Yiling had joined the company two years earlier and had walked several international shows. She and Yan Man had a good relationship.
In fact, she was probably the only one in the company who did.
Chu Yiling handed Yan Man a bottle of water and whispered,
“President Tan is here.”
The two had just finished the final rehearsal.
Yan Man paused mid-drink, her striking face filled with surprise.
“President Tan?”
Her fingertips rested on the bottle, unconsciously rubbing it.
“Yeah, you’re surprised too, right? When has he ever watched a fashion show?”
Chu Yiling covered her mouth with her palm, leaned in close and whispered,
“I heard he’s here to watch his girlfriend walk.”
Yan Man’s back stiffened.
But she tried to stay calm and asked,
“He has a girlfriend now?”
Though her palms were already damp with sweat.
“You didn’t know?” Chu Yiling was surprised, then quickly nodded,
“Well, makes sense. Yan Huan doesn’t get along with you, so of course she wouldn’t tell you.”
“Let me tell you secretly—don’t spread it.”
Yan Man nodded. “Okay.”
“See that girl sitting in the center seat? The one named Sarah? That’s President Tan’s girlfriend.”
Yan Man looked where she pointed.
A long-haired girl with blue eyes sat center stage. She looked mostly Asian despite the eye color.
Yan Man recognized her—Sarah, a well-known model from the UK, half Chinese and half British.
When she saw that Tan Qishen’s girlfriend was “someone else,” as strange as it was, she actually felt relieved.
But—
“How do you know?” Yan Man asked softly, eyes lowered.
Chu Yiling’s tone grew more excited,
“Didn’t Yan Huan go to the FD Group party two days ago? She saw President Tan with Sarah.”
“That’s not enough proof they’re dating.”
“True—but then she heard Jiang, the CEO of ZhiYu Entertainment, call Sarah ‘sister-in-law.’ Think about it—how many brothers could President Jiang have?”
“…”
The Jiang family was one of the oldest, most powerful families in Beijing, with roots dating back centuries. It was said their ancestors were once top-ranking officials. In recent years, they’d risen to the top of the capital’s elite circles. And Jiang Linjin was an only child.
In all of Beijing, there were very few people he would call “brother.”
Yan Man arched her brows slightly, her glamorous eyes holding something unreadable.
Tan Qishen would definitely be one of them.
Chu Yiling noticed her expression and assumed she didn’t believe it, so she continued with more proof:
“And President Tan never attends fashion shows. Obviously someone here matters to him…”
Yan Man nodded calmly on the surface but silently disagreed.
This wasn’t his first fashion show.
Their first meeting had been at a runway show.
Back then, both of them had been audience members. Now, she was walking the runway—and his girlfriend.
Chu Yiling kept chattering, and Yan Man looked like she was listening attentively, but her thoughts wandered to two years ago…
Paris, France.
The largest fashion show in the world was being held there.
The event was beyond just a show—it was a stage of wealth and fame.
Celebrities, stars, and business tycoons from all over the world had gathered. Tickets were nearly impossible to get.
But despite holding a golden invitation (the second-highest tier), Yan Man didn’t feel happy.
A year ago, her childhood friend Tang Qingshuo had died in a plane crash. Now, she was alone in France.
It was her final year studying abroad—only half a month remained.
She and Tang had grown up together. Their parents were close friends. They even had a childhood engagement, though she’d always seen him as a brother.
But when had that brother-sister bond started to change?
She couldn’t answer.
He had gently confessed his feelings before—but before she figured out her own, he was gone.
This show was the result of her family repeatedly urging her to go out and take her mind off things.
She had always loved fashion shows—dozens if not hundreds, both domestic and international. Tang had always gone with her.
This was her first time going alone.
The venue was packed, silent, all eyes on the runway.
Only one seat remained—the center VIP seat, visibly prominent.
A velvet sofa, different from the rest, surrounded by fancy drinks glistening with ice. Clearly reserved for someone of high status.
Yan Man’s seat was across from it—she had the golden invite and was surrounded by international stars.
Ten minutes after the show started, she glanced toward the empty VIP seat.
Then, several men in suits entered, surrounding a tall man in a white suit. They moved quietly to avoid drawing attention, but the seat’s location made it hard to stay unnoticed.
Yan Man looked over curiously.
The event organizer whispered something to the man, who nodded and sat down.
His entourage dispersed, leaving just one refined older man behind him.
Yan Man couldn’t help but look a little longer.
And then—
Her years of etiquette nearly slipped. Her eyes widened in disbelief.
“Qing… Qingshuo?”
The name caught in her throat. She nearly shouted it in the quiet venue.
Her eyes brimmed with tears as she stared at the man.
How could someone look so much like him?
She clenched her fists to restrain her emotions.
This man’s aura was powerful. He wore only a black shirt under his suit, exuding a relaxed yet authoritative presence unlike the poised audience around him.
He was nothing like the gentle, boyish Tang Qingshuo—except in looks.
Still, that resemblance was enough.
Perhaps her gaze was too intense, because the man looked up.
Their eyes met across the runway.
The house lights were dim, but to Yan Man, that moment was clear as day.
Even now, she remembered that one glance—piercing her heart, unforgettable.
Later, when she returned to China, she learned his name:
Tan Qishen—from Beijing.
“Ling-jie, Man-jie, five minutes until showtime.”
The staff’s voice pulled both girls back to the present.
Yan Man immediately composed herself.
Chu Yiling shrugged.
“Alright, back to work.”
She whispered to Yan Man,
“Let’s finish this and gossip later.”
Yan Man couldn’t help but smile and nodded.
She too wanted to know—what rumors there were about Tan Qishen’s so-called girlfriend.