He wants to adopt a younger sister, but his aloof wife disagrees.

The Parisian night is a moveable feast, and also a gladiatorial arena for fame and fortune.

The highlight of Fashion Week—the "LVMH Annual Gala"—opened at the century-old Grand Palais. Although only twenty-four hours had passed, the "design showdown" that took place in the Marais studio yesterday felt like a boulder weighing on Chu Ran's heart, keeping her awake all night.

The dress that Jiang Che "conjured" with a few pieces of fabric and a pair of scissors was now being worn by Shen Qingge.

7 p.m., in the presidential suite of the Four Seasons Hotel George V.

The air was filled with the scent of hairspray and expensive cosmetics. Jiang Che was standing in front of a huge floor-length mirror, holding an eyebrow pencil, intently drawing eyebrows for Shen Qingge, who was sitting in a chair.

They didn't hire a top-notch makeup artist team because Jiang Che said that no one understood the charm of the dress better than him, and no one understood Shen Qingge's bone structure better than him.

"alright."

Jiang Che put down his eyebrow pencil, took a step back, and lingered his gaze on Shen Qingge, his eyes filled with amazement and tenderness:

"Qingge, look in the mirror."

Shen Qingge slowly opened her eyes.

The woman in the mirror was so beautiful that she felt like a stranger to herself.

Jiang Che didn't give her the heavy smoky makeup popular in Europe and America, but instead opted for the "Phoenix Makeup" with its distinctly oriental charm. The outer corners of her eyes were slightly upturned, and she used dark red eyeshadow to create a look that was both alluring and sharp. Her lips were a true royal red, full and textured.

Her hairstyle was a meticulously styled low bun, held up with a black jade hairpin that seemed out of place yet perfectly suited her in Paris.

But the most amazing thing was that dress.

The deep blue velvet fabric, under the hotel's warm yellow lights, shimmered with a mysterious luster reminiscent of the deep sea. It clung tightly to Shen Qingge's body, revealing nothing but the extremely high slit of her skirt, which, when she stood up, revealed one of her long, straight legs.

The openwork lace phoenix embroidery on her back subtly reveals her snow-white skin, as if the phoenix were truly perched on her back, ready to take flight at any moment.

"Oh my god..."

Su Xiaoruan, who had been squatting to the side watching the show, covered her mouth, her eyes wide like saucers:

"Sister...you don't look like a female CEO right now, you look like...like an empress about to ascend the throne!"

"And she's the kind of empress who kills without blinking an eye, yet can make all men willingly die for her!"

Shen Qingge looked at herself in the mirror, twirled around, and her skirt spread out like ink wash. She felt the velvet fabric enveloping her, without the heaviness and stinging sensation of Chu Ran's "Dark Queen" dress, only the comfort and confidence of a second skin.

Jiang Che.

Shen Qingge looked at the man behind her through the mirror, a captivating smile curving her lips:

"Your hands can not only cook and manage, but also paint faces."

"I'm starting to get a little scared of you. Is there anything you can't do?"

Jiang Che embraced her from behind, avoiding her freshly styled hair, and gently kissed the skin behind her ear:

"I've said it before, I'm an all-around gigolo."

"I can do anything you need."

At that moment, there was a knock on the suite door.

Chu Ran stood at the door, wearing the "deconstructivist" trench coat that she thought was very avant-garde, but which looked awkward no matter how she looked at it after seeing Jiang Che's works. Her face was a little ugly.

"The car has arrived. It's time to go."

Chu Ran's gaze fell on Shen Qingge, and her pupils suddenly contracted.

Although she had seen the prototype of the dress yesterday, when it was actually worn by Shen Qingge and paired with the makeup created by Jiang Che, the impact still made her feel breathless.

So beautiful.

That kind of beauty is not the flamboyance of the West, but a kind of Eastern, restrained, yet extremely imposing nobility.

"Ranran, how is it?" Shen Qingge asked with a smile. "Is the makeup alright?"

"Cough... It's alright." Chu Ran turned her face away, forcibly suppressing the bitterness in her heart, and said stubbornly, "It's just a bit too plain. Everyone on the red carpet is dressed to the nines, it's hard to say whether you can get any attention like this."

"Whether you can get the spotlight or not isn't about flashy tricks."

Jiang Che picked up a pure black cashmere shawl, draped it over Shen Qingge's shoulders, and glanced indifferently at Chu Ran:

"It's all about presence."

"Let's go, let's teach the Parisians what true aesthetics are."

……

Outside the Grand Palace, the spotlights were as bright as day.

Hundreds of media outlets from around the world thronged the red carpet. Screams and the clicking of camera shutters filled the air. Hollywood stars, supermodels, and socialites vied for attention, seemingly willing to use every ounce of fabric they could to earn a spot in tomorrow's headlines.

A long black Lincoln slowly pulled up at the end of the red carpet.

The car door opened.

Chu Ran was the first to come down. After all, she was a senior executive at LVMH and a designer, so she had some reputation in the industry. She struck a professional pose and waved to the camera.

"Oh! C'est Chu!"

"Son style est... très spécial." (Her style is... very special.)

The reporters politely took a few photos, but the response was lukewarm. After all, this "post-apocalyptic" style wasn't exactly new in Paris this year, and it even felt a bit overdone and awkward.

Chu Ran stood there somewhat awkwardly, inwardly cursing the reporters for not knowing their stuff.

Immediately afterwards, Su Xiaoruan jumped down. Although she didn't walk the red carpet, she followed along as a family member. Today, she wore a white dress that Jiang Che had picked out for her, looking pure and lively, which attracted many photographers who snapped photos of her and exclaimed "Cute!"

At last.

A long, slender, fair hand rested on the car door.

Jiang Che was the first to get out of the car. He was wearing a black velvet suit, with a black jade brooch of the same material as Shen Qingge's hairpin pinned to his collar. His noble and aloof demeanor instantly silenced the noisy crowd around him for a second.

"Who is he?"

"An Asian male model?"

Jiang Che ignored the camera, turned around gracefully, and reached out his hand into the car.

Shen Qingge took his hand and slowly walked out.

When she stood at the starting point of the red carpet, and her dark blue "Oriental Charm" gown was fully exposed under the spotlight.

The world seemed to stand still.

There were no screams, no commotion.

Only countless pairs of eyes were stunned into silence by the beauty.

next second.

boom--!!!

The sound of camera shutters exploded like a tsunami! The flashes were so dense they almost turned night into day!

"Mon Dieu!" (My God!)

"Regardez cette robe!" (Look at that dress!)

"Who is she? Which royal family is she from?"

Shen Qingge held Jiang Che's arm, her chin slightly raised, her eyes cool and composed. She didn't need to make any exaggerated movements; simply standing there, her aura of absolute authority was enough to overwhelm the entire room.

Under the spotlight of countless flashes, her velvet dress underwent a wondrous transformation.

The original deep, dark blue shimmered with layers of light, like a galaxy, as the light refracted. The lace phoenix on the back seemed to come alive under the bright light, its golden embroidery threads gleaming as if it were about to be reborn from the ashes.

This is more than just a piece of clothing.

This is flowing art of light and shadow.

Chu Ran stood to the side, completely becoming a background figure. She watched as those top photographers, who had previously ignored her, now rushed towards Shen Qingge like madmen, shouting all sorts of praise. Her last line of defense completely collapsed.

Lost.

Compared to a true masterpiece, her little tricks and so-called trendy elements are as laughable as cheap knockoffs.

Just as Shen Qingge and Jiang Che walked to the center of the red carpet.

A sudden commotion arose in the crowd.

"C'est Pierre! Pierre Cardin!"

"Le Pape de la mode!" (The Godfather of Fashion!)

An elderly man with a full head of silver hair, wearing sunglasses and a signature black suit, pushed aside the bodyguards around him and walked straight to the center of the red carpet.

He is Pierre. A living legend of French fashion, a mentor to countless top designers, and the biggest star of the night. It is said that he hasn't initiated conversations with anyone on the red carpet for many years; usually, others line up to see him.

But at this moment, he was like a child who had seen a rare treasure, and he hurried toward Shen Qingge.

Chu Ran's eyes lit up when she saw Pierre. She was an admirer of Pierre, and if she could just exchange a few words with him, it would be worth it!

She quickly went to greet him and said in fluent French, "Maître Pierre! Je suis Chu, la directrice de..." (Madame Pierre! I am Chu, the director of...)

however.

Pierre didn't even glance at her, simply walking right past her.

He walked straight up to Shen Qingge, took off his sunglasses, and his eyes, which had seen countless things, were now filled with shock and infatuation.

He didn't touch Shen Qingge offensively, but instead, through the air, his fingers trembled as he lightly stroked the fabric and lines of the dress.

"Magnifique... C'est absoluement magnifique..."

Pierre murmured to himself, his voice hoarse with excitement:

"This is the most perfect tailoring I've seen in the last ten years. This control over velvet, this perfect fusion of Eastern mystery and Western structure... it's a masterpiece of God."

After speaking, he raised his head, his gaze fixed intently on Shen Qingge, or rather, on Jiang Che beside her (his keen intuition told him that the designer of this dress was someone else):

"Madam, who is the designer of this dress? Is it a new, hidden master in China?"

Chu Ran stood to the side, her face deathly pale. She understood French, and every word felt like a slap in the face.

The godfather of fashion is asking who the designer is!

And they used the word "Maître" (master)!

Shen Qingge smiled and glanced at Jiang Che beside her, her pride almost overflowing.

She answered in fluent English (deliberately for all the media around her to hear):

"Mr. Pierre, the designer is standing right next to me."

"He is my husband, Mr. Jiang Che."

Whoosh—!

The entire venue erupted in cheers once again.

All the cameras instantly focused on Jiang Che.

Pierre stared in shock at the excessively young Asian man and asked incredulously:

"Vous? Jeune homme?" (Is that you? Young man?)

Jiang Che nodded slightly and replied in his standard aristocratic French:

"It's an honor, Mr. Pierre. It's just a small gift for my wife. I'm glad you like it."

"A small gift?!"

Pierre's eyes widened, as if he had heard something about the pinnacle of Versailles literature.

Calling artworks that can be displayed in museums "small gifts"?!

"Jeune homme! Vousêtes un génie!" (Young man! You are a genius!)

Pierre excitedly grabbed Jiang Che's hand:

"Interested in coming to my studio? Or to Dior? Chanel? If you're willing, I can recommend you to be the chief designer for any top brand! Your talent shouldn't be wasted!"

This scene was broadcast live around the world.

Chinese netizens were staying up all night to watch the live stream, and they were blown away when they saw this scene.

"Holy crap! Is that Mr. Pierre? He's asking Jiang Che to be his designer?!"

"Is this the true value of a gigolo? He can conquer a fashion icon just by having a random outfit made?"

"Shen Qingge must have saved the galaxy in her past life! I want a husband like that too!"

"That Chu Ran was so embarrassed just now, she was completely ignored, hahaha!"

Faced with the fashion godfather's enthusiastic invitation, this was an opportunity that countless designers dreamed of to rise to the top in one step.

However, Jiang Che simply smiled politely and gently withdrew his hand.

"Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Pierre."

Jiang Che glanced at Shen Qingge beside him, his eyes firm yet gentle:

"But I'm afraid I have to refuse you."

"Why?!" Pierre couldn't understand. "Is it for money? We can talk!"

"No."

Jiang Che shook his head and, in front of the whole world, uttered a statement that would be recorded in the history of the gigolo world:

"Because my designs serve only one person."

"I'm not a designer."

"I am just Shen Qingge's husband."

"This dress is made exclusively for her. I will not design a second one for anyone else, not even royalty."

Pierre was stunned.

The surrounding reporters were stunned.

Chu Ran stood there dumbfounded, as if struck by lightning.

Designed for only one person?

He turned down a top brand's chief executive position just to become his wife's personal tailor.

Is this... the ultimate form of pampering?

Pierre remained silent for a long time, then finally sighed, a smile of regret mixed with admiration on his face:

"C'est l'amour... La plus grande inspiration de l'art." (This is love... the greatest inspiration for art.)

He stepped back and bowed solemnly to Jiang Che and Shen Qingge:

"I respect your choice. This dress is a Parisian legend tonight."

……

After the red carpet event, the cocktail party began.

The interior of the Grand Palace was resplendent with gold and jade. Jiang Che and Shen Qingge undoubtedly became the focus of the entire event. Countless celebrities held wine glasses, eager to get to know this "mysterious Eastern genius." As the president of the Shen Group, Shen Qingge naturally navigated the social scene with ease, and incidentally secured several international collaborations.

Chu Ran, meanwhile, hid in a corner, drinking alone in silence.

As she watched the two people surrounded by the crowd, the jealousy and resentment in her heart slowly dissipated, replaced by a deep sense of powerlessness.

She lost.

From rings to red wine to cooking skills, and now to the designs we are most proud of.

She was utterly crushed by this man from every angle.

"What's wrong? Drinking alone here all by yourself?"

A clear, cold voice rang out.

Jiang Che stood in front of her, holding two glasses of juice (he had brought them to help Shen Qingge sober up after she had drunk too much).

Chu Ran raised her head, looked at the man who had humiliated her, and gave a bitter smile:

"Are you here to mock me, Jiang Da designer?"

"I don't have that kind of free time."

Jiang Che handed her one of the glasses of juice:

"I came to tell you..."

"Your design isn't actually bad, but you were too eager to prove yourself, so you overdid it and lost sight of your original intention."

"Fashion is not about showing off to others, it's about making yourself feel comfortable."

"This juice is on Qingge's behalf."

"Although you're a bit of a manipulative, snobbish, and have a sharp tongue, but..."

Jiang Che paused, glancing at Shen Qingge, who was chatting and laughing with the French billionaire not far away:

"Considering that you were there for Qingge during her most difficult time back then."

"As long as you don't cross the line or do anything to hurt her."

"We're still friends."

After saying that, Jiang Che did not wait for her reply and turned to walk towards Shen Qingge.

Chu Ran held the glass of juice, watching Jiang Che's retreating figure, her eyes suddenly reddening.

She always thought Jiang Che was a gold digger who lived off his wife and would try to sow discord between her and Qing Ge.

Unexpectedly, it was he who ultimately gave her a way out.

"He's a kept man..."

Chu Ran took a sip of juice, tears falling into the glass, but a relieved smile appeared on her lips:

"Qingge, Qingge, you've really struck gold this time."

……

Late at night, on the streets of Paris.

After the party ended, Jiang Che didn't take a car, but instead held Shen Qingge's hand and strolled along the Seine.

Su Xiaoruan was so tired that she fell asleep in the car and was taken back to the hotel by the bodyguards.

At this moment, there were only the two of them.

The lights of the Eiffel Tower twinkled in the distance, while the river flowed quietly.

Jiang Che.

Shen Qingge was wearing his suit jacket, her cheeks were slightly flushed, and she seemed a little drunk.

"Um?"

"Why did you refuse Pierre just now?"

Shen Qingge stopped and looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and heartache:

"What a wonderful opportunity! You could become a world-class master, you could own your own brand, you could..."

"I can have everything, but that would mean leaving you, flying all over the world, and making clothes for people I don't know."

Jiang Che interrupted her and reached out to tidy her hair, which had been ruffled by the night wind:

"Qingge, don't you understand?"

"I don't have such big ambitions."

"My ambition is limited to this small corner of the world."

Jiang Che pointed to his chest, then to her:

"This place is filled with you."

"What's the point of being a master to the whole world? I just want to be your one and only... gigolo."

Looking into his deep, starry eyes, Shen Qingge felt a deep, tender touch on her heart.

She suddenly tiptoed and, on the romantic banks of the Seine, on the streets of this foreign land, took the initiative to kiss his lips.

"Jiang Che..."

"After we go back, shall we...have a child?"

This one sentence moved Jiang Che more than all the applause and praise he received that night.

He suddenly grabbed the back of her head and deepened the kiss.

"it is good."

"but……"

"We need to do a rehearsal at the hotel tonight."

"That dress... I really like it."

"Especially... when you take it off."

The night in Paris is just beginning.