IJLHTW - 9

When Huo Ci told Bai Yu about this, he nearly flipped the table. After the shoot today ended, she treated everyone to Japanese cuisine. As the boss, Huo Ci was always generous. She reserved two private rooms, sending the rest of the studio crew to the other one, while she and Bai Yu stayed in the smaller room.

Halfway through the meal, Mo Xingchen arrived.

If Mo Xingchen hadn’t quickly pressed down on the low table on the tatami mat, Bai Yu probably would have flipped it for real.

“Huo Ci, you too—such a big matter, you should have discussed it with Bai Yu. After all, he’s also a partner in the studio; you need to respect him,” Mo Xingchen said earnestly.

Bai Yu sat opposite, so angry he looked like he wanted to climb over the table and strangle Huo Ci. Hearing Mo Xingchen say that, he pointed at her and cursed, “Cut the act! You definitely knew about this, didn’t you? Mo Xingchen, after all the kindness I’ve shown you, you actually teamed up with her to deceive me. No wonder you suddenly showed up today.”

“That’s nonsense. It was Huo Ci who invited me to dinner.”

After she said that, both she and Bai Yu looked over at Huo Ci.

“I invited you because I wanted you to persuade Xiao Bai,” Huo Ci said calmly, looking at Mo Xingchen.

Mo Xingchen’s mouth twisted in anger, “Good for you. Why don’t you ever think of me?”

“The December ELLE cover star is the young actor Mu Ting, and next month GUCCI will announce a new ambassador in China,” as soon as Huo Ci mentioned this, Mo Xingchen’s face lit up with joy.

As a fashion blogger on Weibo with two million followers, Mo Xingchen had managed to move from an amateur to an industry insider mainly by scooping all kinds of news related to Huo Ci.

Huo Ci was a workhorse in the industry—her fees were high but she never turned anyone away. Last year alone, she shot ninety magazine covers, which even stunned Bai Yu at the year-end review. Mo Xingchen getting news from Huo Ci was more effective than any fashion editor.

After all, fashion editors only cared about their own magazine’s small domain, while Huo Ci’s influence spanned the entire fashion circle.

Bai Yu was furious seeing them openly making deals right in front of him, his hair practically standing on end. But by now Mo Xingchen had switched sides, turning to persuade him: “Xiao Bai, honestly, since Huo Ci has taken the job, you can’t just let her ruin your reputation.”

“Ruin my reputation? Ask her yourself why she’s doing this.”

If Bai Yu wasn’t restrained by the table between them, he really wanted to jab her forehead hard to make the water inside her head spill out.

Mo Xingchen looked at her suspiciously. Something wasn’t right here.

Huo Ci had no intention of hiding it: “You were at the bar that night too. He was the one who invited me.”

“That white-clothed male god,” Mo Xingchen gasped, then asked, “You haven’t already slept with him, have you?”

“Not yet,” Huo Ci denied. Just as Mo Xingchen sighed in relief, Huo Ci added, “But soon.”

Mo Xingchen: “…” To get me to call you daddy, you don’t have to be so serious about it.

“Just keep imagining what you want. Do you know how many people are watching you right now? Take that shameless copycat Nan Wan, she’s been on the rise these past six months and is no worse than you. She snagged two of the five major covers during the golden September and silver October seasons. If you weren’t abroad, would she even get a chance? If you take another month off, who knows how arrogant she’ll become.”

Nan Wan was a rising star photographer these past two years. She graduated from a prestigious school and had a classical, delicate beauty—many said she didn’t look like a photographer but more like a talented young lady raised in a secluded boudoir.

Neither Xiao Bai nor Mo Xingchen liked her. When she first appeared on the scene, she rode on Huo Ci’s coattails for publicity. While Huo Ci was cold and mysterious, Nan Wan shaped herself as gentle, elegant, and intellectual. Huo Ci focused mostly on commercial shoots; Nan Wan stuck to competition entries and only in recent years started moving into commercial work.

There was a saying about the golden September and silver October covers: the magazines would invite heavyweight stars to sit on the covers during those months. Huo Ci had shot the Cannes Best Actress Zheng Rong for the 20th anniversary issue of V magazine’s golden September edition, which was her key breakthrough.

This year, with Huo Ci absent, Nan Wan snagged two of the five major female magazine covers, gaining a lot of attention.

Though there were many photographers in the fashion circle, these two were similar in age and both beautiful, so it was inevitable they were compared.

Last year, Huo Ci shot ninety covers straight, which led to many marketing accounts mocking her for only chasing money.

Unlike Nan Wan, who was seen as having more artistic pursuit.

However, Bai Yu wasn’t naive after all these years. When many fashion accounts reviewed the year’s best covers, more than half were Huo Ci’s work, and even the editors-in-chief of the five major female magazines publicly praised her.

Huo Ci’s fans were fiercely loyal, easily outdoing Nan Wan’s followers.

…

As a result, just as they finished eating and were about to leave, they unexpectedly ran into Nan Wan with her manager and a group of models coming to dine.

“Huo Jie, you’re back,” Nan Wan greeted her as she walked over.

Her manager followed, but that “Huo Jie” almost made Bai Yu’s face turn black with anger. Actually, Huo Ci and Nan Wan were the same age—Huo Ci’s birthday was in June, Nan Wan’s in November.

But Bai Yu had long suspected Nan Wan lied about her age, and now she was just brazenly pushing it.

Last year when their fans clashed online, Nan Wan even sent a gift through her manager, saying she dared not compete with Huo Ci.

This year, she dared to be openly unpleasant to them.

Huo Ci looked at her without anger and said lightly, “By age, I should be calling you Sister Mengxia.”

The moment she said this, Nan Wan’s cheeks flushed a deep liver-red.

Even her manager turned grim, quickly pulling her away and smiling awkwardly, “Xiao Bai, you guys just finished eating, right? We won’t bother you. Please enjoy your meal.”

After they left, Mo Xingchen and Bai Yu immediately swarmed around Huo Ci, both wildly curious.

Bai Yu asked, “What did you call her?”

Mo Xingchen asked, “Who’s Mengxia?”

“Nan Wan’s real name is Ma Mengxia.”

If she hadn’t done that deliberately just now, Huo Ci wouldn’t have wanted to disgust her with that.

Bai Yu and Mo Xingchen exchanged a glance, both trembling with excitement.

If anyone’s to blame, it’s only because Nan Wan spends all day acting like a noble lady from a prestigious family, and her fans constantly trash-talk others nonstop.

Mo Xingchen gasped, “She actually changed her name?”

Huo Ci snorted and looked at her, “Changing her name is nothing—she even changed her face.”

…

Bai Yu looked utterly incredulous, murmuring like in a dream, “How did you find out?” Then he excitedly asked, “Did she also fake her age?”

“She’s two years older than me.”

“Shameless.”

“Like a cucumber painted green.”

Mo Xingchen and Bai Yu each threw a jab without holding back.

Afterwards, Bai Yu glared at Huo Ci, “Why didn’t you tell me such an important thing?”

If he had known earlier, he would have hired marketing accounts to step in and teach her a lesson—to warn her not to drag others down and to let her experience what it’s like to be attacked by marketing accounts.

Last year, when marketing accounts collectively bashed Huo Ci, the insults online were harsh, saying she didn’t deserve to be called a photographer at all.

Actually, there are plenty of commercial photographers—if it weren’t for someone deliberately stirring the pot, it wouldn’t have blown up so badly.

At that time, although Huo Ci’s fans tried to defend her, they were labeled as brainless fangirls. Even the studio’s official Weibo inbox was flooded with hateful messages from trolls.

The person in charge of Weibo promotion was the studio assistant, a young girl fresh out of school. When she saw the messages, she cried her eyes out.

“How many people have slept with you, you shameless cold goddess?”

“Damn bitch, get out of the fashion industry.”

“All you do is ride on others, go shoot your commercial garbage.”

Even Bai Yu’s Weibo wasn’t spared.

Those people seemed to crawl out from the sewers, reeking of stench, and felt proud of themselves. So when Bai Yu wanted to issue a statement, Huo Ci stopped him.

She didn’t pursue art. She shot commercial work, and as long as there was money, people could hire her.

They thought they could attack her with this—what a joke.

“What’s there to say? If I don’t distinguish myself from people like her, then what am I?”

Attacking innocent people casually for personal gain. Nan Wan wasn’t innocent, but Huo Ci disdained using low tactics against her.

If she was going to win, it would be with honor.

“You’re always cold on the surface while they stab you in the back,” Bai Yu sighed beside her, then thought better of it—if she really stabbed in the back, she wouldn’t be Huo Ci.

With the Nan Wan mess stirring things up, Bai Yu forgot all about making trouble for Huo Ci.

Besides, Mo Xingchen’s persuasion was quite effective, reasoning with him and appealing to his emotions. She made Bai Yu understand that only by going along with Huo Ci’s wishes could they all benefit. From her many years of experience, whatever Huo Ci wanted to do, she had never failed.

**

As the year-end approached, because preparations were underway to go to Africa, Bai Yu was ready to clear his schedule. As he said himself, the reason they could keep cooperating so smoothly was that he listened well.

He complained sometimes, but after complaining, he still let Huo Ci do whatever she wanted.

At home that night, Huo Ci was curled up on the sofa, a drawing board placed opposite her—a half-finished work she’d left there before going abroad.

She twirled her phone repeatedly in her hand.

When she opened her contacts and found Yi Zecheng’s number, she tapped into the message thread, thinking about what to say.

She needed to ask when he would leave. Her passport was easy to arrange, but she had to prepare in advance.

Just as she typed the first character, the phone suddenly rang. It was the studio assistant Meng Fan. The studio had grown quite large, and Bai Yu had hired several assistants; this one was exclusively his. Usually, Bai Yu followed her around, and Meng Fan was quiet, just keeping her head down and working.

When she answered, the voice on the other end was panicked and shouting for help: “Huo Ci, Xiao Bai just got beaten up.”

“Where are you?” Huo Ci jumped up from the sofa without even asking why, directly demanding the location.

The noise on the other end was loud, but suddenly a sharp voice rang out, “Don’t come,” it was Bai Yu shouting, his tone changed, but Huo Ci recognized it immediately.

“They said they would only let him go if you come,” Meng Fan’s voice was breaking into tears.

Huo Ci frowned deeply, “Big man crying? Ridiculous.”

Her sharp reprimand made the voices on the other end calm down a bit.

“Wait for me, I’m coming.”