The style of the red dress for the gala matched Song Chan’s perfectly.
The crimson backless mermaid gown draped over Song Chan’s body, showcasing her slender and alluring figure without reservation.
She was a natural beauty, her features already vibrant and captivating. Elaborate makeup would only be superfluous; heavy makeup would instead obscure the inherent charm in her appearance.
ZE Fashion’s makeup artist precisely captured Song Chan’s facial characteristics. They applied a thin layer of eyeshadow to her eyelids, glued on individual false lashes, and accentuated the contours with eyeliner and highlighter, making her eyes appear even more enchanting.
After applying a lip mask to her lips, they coated them with a rose-red lipstick in a purple undertone, enhancing the soft allure of her plump lips. They then curled her hair into waves, letting it cascade naturally over her body.
The makeup was simple and elegant, without overshadowing the beauty of Song Chan’s own features. Paired with the mermaid red gown, it made her skin look translucent and fair, with her jade-like back peeking through her swaying locks.
Now, she embodied pure desire and seductive charm, like an addictive forbidden drug. Anyone who looked at her twice would uncontrollably fall deep into it.
It was just as Zhou Qining had once evaluated her: if there truly was a kingdom-toppling seductress in this world, her appearance would be something like this.
From the moment Song Chan changed into that mermaid red gown, Qian Ya’s gaze had never left her.
Her eyes sparkled with fangirl adoration, like a creep who couldn’t look away from a beautiful woman.
Having witnessed Song Chan’s entire changing process.
Qian Ya licked her lips, her praise coming straight from the heart.
“Chanchan, you’re way too beautiful!”
With that, she let out a heavy sigh. “Sigh—if only I were a man, I’d definitely chase you.”
Hearing this, Song Chan smiled faintly. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard those words; Zhou Qining had said exactly the same thing before.
But they had only exchanged a glance before Zhou Qining decisively abandoned that dangerous notion.
After all, no one knew better than Zhou Qining how difficult it was to win Song Chan’s affection.
Just as Lin Jinhe had evaluated before, Song Chan was a stubborn donkey when it came to career and relationships.
If she wouldn’t take that first step, no amount of effort from the other side would matter.
That was why she felt so comfortable around Su Yicen.
He never rushed her or led her on. Though he always tested the waters, he knew when to stop, always staying within a comfortable boundary without crossing the line, giving her plenty of time and freedom to decide.
Waiting for the day when she could accept his feelings.
Perhaps it was precisely because Su Yicen gave her that emotional freedom that she couldn’t help but draw closer to him involuntarily.
Her unconsciously clenched hand had her manicured nails digging into her palm before Song Chan snapped back to reality, realizing what she was thinking in such a public place.
She shook her head to clear her mind and checked the time before saying to Qian Ya.
“Let’s go to the banquet hall.”
“Teacher Su…”
“Teacher Su…”
Song Chan had just stood up and smoothed her skirt, her gaze still lowered, when greetings rose one after another beside her ear.
This “Teacher Su”—who else could it be but him.
Perhaps because of her earlier overthinking, accompanied by the approaching steady footsteps, Song Chan’s heart rate quickened unconsciously.
“Song… Teacher…”
A clear, low male voice rang out word by word beside her ear. Though polite and formal, it carried a nuance only she could detect.
Song Chan smoothed her skirt and straightened up calmly.
When she met Su Yicen’s dark eyes, her gaze was immediately captured by the pink rose pinned to his ear.
The crimson mermaid gown clashed beautifully with his champagne-colored cloud-patterned suit, evoking the sense of male and female protagonists meeting in a fairy tale.
Even in the bustling dressing room, they became an unignorable dazzling presence.
Their unavoidable eye contact made her heart flutter like a startled deer.
When Song Chan’s eyes met Su Yicen’s pitch-black pupils, she clearly felt his gaze pause. His deep, serene look turned scorching hot.
He said nothing, but his eyes conveyed much—things only she could understand.
“Teacher Su… do you need something?”
Her feigned composure was seen through by Su Yicen at a glance.
He didn’t call her out on it. Instead, he curved his lips, and his distinctively jointed fingers pinched the pink rose pinned to his right ear.
Su Yicen held it out to her, his tone slow and deliberate.
“Song Teacher, this outfit you styled for me looks great.”
“So, I wanted to thank you.”
Song Chan instinctively took the rose, only realizing afterward how hot it felt in her hand.
She hurriedly tossed it back into Su Yicen’s arms.
A petal drifted to the ground amid the collision. Song Chan inhaled and spoke, her voice clearly tense.
“No…”
“Teacher Su doesn’t need to thank me. This is just part of my job.”
As she spoke, she grabbed Qian Ya’s hand—the one who was fangirling over Su Yicen—and shook her wrist.
“Teacher Su, if there’s nothing else, we’ll be going.”
In contrast to Song Chan’s evasive eyes, Qian Ya, who was being pulled away, was much more outgoing.
Qian Ya waved at Su Yicen. “Bye, Teacher Su!”
But as they walked, Qian Ya frowned, feeling more and more off about it.
She called out to Song Chan. “Chanchan, if I remember correctly from earlier…”
“Wasn’t the flower on Su Yicen’s ear pinned to his right side?”
Unsure what she meant, Song Chan recalled it was indeed the right ear.
Upon reflection, those pitch-black, profound eyes floated back into view.
Song Chan shook her head, trying to banish him from her mind.
She asked, “Seems like it. What’s wrong?”
“See!”
Confirming it, Qian Ya clapped her hands, her volume rising uncontrollably and drawing glances from those around before she quickly lowered it.
She leaned in and whispered to Song Chan, “Chanchan, I read this fun fact before. In some country, there’s a tradition: a man wearing a flower on his left ear means he’s single, but on the right ear, it means his heart belongs to someone or he’s married…”
The words flowed from her ear into her heart. Though Song Chan didn’t know the custom, it was exactly the kind of thing that flower peacock Su Yicen would do.
Perhaps because their relationship was a direct leap to marriage, their interactions had already started resembling an old married couple.
When Qian Ya first mentioned the meaning of the right-ear flower, Song Chan did feel a tiny flicker of touched emotion—but only for that fleeting moment before she snapped awake.
Since Qian Ya knew the deeper meaning of the right-ear flower, others certainly would too.
‘Su Yicen is too careless! If it’s really as the custom says, then tonight when she got home, she had to have a serious talk with him about it.’
Qian Ya murmured to herself, her head tilted as she pondered seriously, as if she had guessed something.
The next moment, she made a bold speculation. “You don’t think Su Yicen is…”
Song Chan’s heart leaped to her throat, bracing as Qian Ya seemed about to blurt something out.
She was ready to cover her mouth at any second when Qian Ya suddenly changed tack.
“You don’t think he’s doing it to interact with fans—like on stage, announcing to them, ‘Today, I’m marrying all of you, and you’re all my brides’ or something?…”
Hearing this, Song Chan breathed a sigh of relief, thinking she’d been found out.
Qian Ya was already lost in her own fantasy.
“Honestly, it feels a bit cliché, but if that’s really it… it’s not bad…”
“Seriously, Chanchan, Su Yicen is such a fan-pampering idol!”
“You’re sure you don’t want to make up with him and switch your allegiance to stan him?”
Song Chan gently pinched Qian Ya’s cheek, finding her colleague amusingly naive and cute.
She quirked one side of her lips and chuckled lightly as she explained.
“Little Ya, there’s no big story here.”
“That flower was just something I casually picked and put on him earlier…”
At this point, Song Chan anticipated Qian Ya might ask why she’d put the flower on Su Yicen.
Her mind raced, coming up with a reasonably plausible excuse.
“I just wanted to tease him. Who knew he’d actually wear it on the red carpet.”
“So, baby, don’t overthink it. Let’s head in.”
To host this 20th Anniversary Charity Gala, ZE Fashion headquarters had specially funded a renovation of the previous banquet hall.
As a leader in mainland China’s fashion magazine scene, ZE Fashion’s gala venue was grand and opulent, brimming with jewels and showcasing fashion elements everywhere.
By the time Song Chan arrived, most of the guests who had walked the red carpet ahead were already there.
This place was also under constant live broadcast coverage.
The moment she appeared, the indicator light on the camera in front of her lit up without warning.
With her red carpet experience from earlier, Song Chan quickly got into the groove. Her every gesture exuded elegant poise, and she handled approaching celebrities with composure.
Just as she was getting used to being on camera, the live feed suddenly shifted, drawing everyone’s gaze to the entrance.
Under the spotlight, a cool and noble man walked in, instantly heating up the atmosphere of the entire charity gala.
He strode forward unhurriedly, each step carrying an inherent pressure and his innate aristocratic air, unmatched by anyone in the room.
Su Yicen had changed into a classic black suit, with a straight bow tie at his collar. At the pocket square position on his chest was now pinned the pink rose, missing one petal.
As he passed Song Chan’s position, their black-and-red outfits brushed past each other, but his steps didn’t pause.
They didn’t exchange words. But when Song Chan looked up, she met his gaze, their eyes locking and following each other.
Su Yicen hid his subtle affection in his eyes. His fingers unmistakably tapped lightly on the pink rose at his chest, his gaze burning hot.
Song Chan curved her lips. This time, she didn’t dodge but met his eyes head-on. Their ambiguous gaze followed his steps, and one smile conveyed everything.
She understood his intent and didn’t resist his probing—as long as it stayed at that measured degree.
This exchange full of affection was keenly captured by netizens in the live stream, sending the comment section into a frenzy.
Chan Yi Mian Mian 99: 【Cen Cen was just looking at Chanchan! Chanchan responded with her eyes too!】
Another Bowl of Crispy Pork: 【Help! My health bar is empty—it’s so sweet! The way Cen Cen looks at Chanchan isn’t innocent at all!】
Beauty Has No Heart: 【I approve of this marriage (starry eyes). I’ll go fetch the civil bureau right now—marry on the spot! (fangirling)】
Greedy Cen Body Fan: 【This boosts Chan Yi Mian Mian big time! Got my ship, shipping hard— so sweet!】
The live stream comments were flooded with pink bubbles, everyone chanting “shipping it, shipping it.”
The oblivious Song Chan at the scene picked up a glass of champagne, mentally rehearsing her somewhat forgotten speech over and over.
Feeling eyes on her, she turned her head, instinctively searching for Su Yicen’s figure.
Looking up, Song Chan saw Li Shuning, in a similarly styled red gown, holding a glass of wine as she walked up to Su Yicen and stopped beside him.
Before her heart could react, a refined man approached her side.
It was none other than Zhou Chiyu, her not-so-familiar but universally known idol.
Over there,
Su Yicen furrowed his brows, impatiently listening to Li Shuning’s incessant chatter beside him.
Her words went in one ear and out the other; she’d talked for ages, but he hadn’t paid attention to a single one.
Bored out of his mind, Su Yicen glanced toward Song Chan. When he saw who was standing beside her, his deep black pupils contracted.
Su Yicen raised his hand to cut off Li Shuning mid-sentence, his tone cold and non-negotiable.
“Miss Li, you can discuss it with my manager.”
“I have something else. Excuse me.”