Chapter 43

“Wen Xia, do you like how I look in this?” Luo Quan pulled out her only white dress, spun around for Wen Xia, and asked.

Wen Xia beamed. “What’s this? Going to meet a secret lover?”

Junzi glanced over curiously. “Secret lover? Jun-chan is into online dating too?”

Luo Quan rolled her eyes. “Where do you get that?… A website asked me to take a few photos—dress as pretty as possible. You know the site, Tdler.”

“They found you too!” Wen Xia jumped to her feet, then calmed down. “But not surprising—you’ve dominated so many charts these past few days. Of course they’d come for you.”

Junzi’s face flushed with excitement. “So cool, Jun-chan! You’re going on this year’s World’s 100 Most Beautiful Faces list!”

Luo Quan smiled and waved her hand, feigning indifference. “Just empty fame. I, Luo, have never cared for such worldly things…”

“Who was spinning like a top just now, asking if she looked good?”

Luo Quan’s expression froze. Her fists slowly clenched, knuckles cracking softly.

Finally, she held back. Important matters first. She wouldn’t stoop to arguing with Wen Xia, the lemon-sucking brat. “So… does this dress look good on me?”

Wen Xia tapped her chin, studying Luo Quan carefully. “Your face? Barely decent enough for the audience. But this dress? Ancient style. Country girl vibes straight out of the 90s. A braided ponytail would’ve been the final touch—but you can’t do that.”

Luo Quan shot Wen Xia a venomous glare. “If you became a snarky critic, you’d be way more popular than as some idol.”

Wen Xia laughed and wrapped her arm around Luo Quan’s. “Just kidding! Your face looks good in anything. The pure, simple look suits you fine. Sure, flashy makeup and glitter could work too—but it doesn’t fit your vibe.”

“So I don’t need to change outfits.” Luo Quan stood, grabbed her phone. “I’m off to the company!”

Clearly, Wen Xia and Luo Quan had underestimated the problem. A star going for pure, minimalist style? Great. But would the company allow it?

At the company, Luo Quan had barely reached the third floor when a cry rang out beside her: “Oh my God! How could you show up looking like this? And no makeup? Didn’t Miki tell you today’s shoot is critical?”

The complainant wore black sunglasses and a stylish golden ponytail. His accent sounded British.

Luo Quan didn’t know who he was. She spoke cautiously. “My roommate said this look suits me well.”

“Your roommate knows nothing!” the fashion-forward man snapped. “I won’t let a girl this beautiful show up looking like a country bumpkin—especially not under my watch at Sony!”

Miki edged closer, whispering. “Mr. Raphael, Tdler’s crew has arrived. If we keep them waiting too long…”

“Already? When did these Americans get so punctual?” Raphael muttered, scanning Luo Quan again. “Lucky for you, you’ve got solid genetics. Otherwise, showing up in slippers? You’d be the laughingstock of fashion.”

Luo Quan looked down. Beneath the white dress peeked a pair of blue bunny slippers—the ones she wore at home.

Embarrassment flooded her pale face. If there were a hole in the floor, she’d dive straight in.

“I left in a hurry… forgot to change shoes…” she whispered. Her usual casual style always slipped up—thankfully caught in time.

“No way you’re shooting in slippers. Change into heels!” Raphael snapped his fingers. His assistant wheeled over a suitcase.

“What’s your shoe size?”

Luo Quan thought. “Size 36.”

Just right—not too big, not too small.

Raphael found the matching number, pulled open the drawer. Inside lay a row of exquisite high heels. On the drawer’s surface: Louboutin.

“I planned to design your look from scratch once you arrived. But with only seven hours left, I’ll have to improvise. Pity—I spent so long preparing haute couture pieces.”

He pulled out a pair of red-soled heels. The upper was pure white, adorned with sparkling crystals. The soles blazed a startling crimson—elegant, yet dazzlingly seductive.

Louboutin heels ranked among the world’s top brands, priced from thousands to tens of thousands of RMB. For Raphael to use them, they must’ve cost a fortune.

And the haute couture he mentioned? That was another league entirely—designs from Chanel, Givenchy, Gucci, shown on runways each season.

Only the world’s elite—royalty, celebrities, socialites—could afford such pieces. Prices? Millions, sometimes tens of millions.

Most stars rented haute couture for major events just to look the part.

Sony, one of the world’s three largest record labels, owned a large collection of haute couture—brands and styles galore—all purchased by Raphael.

Though he was Sony’s chief stylist, he’d spent the past few days in Italy helping a friend with design work. He’d just returned to Tokyo yesterday when assigned to style Luo Quan.

He’d never met her before. Miki had said she was stunning. He didn’t know how stunning—but if Tdler sent a crew across the ocean to photograph her, she must be a once-in-a-lifetime beauty.

Today, seeing her in person, even Raphael—who’d seen countless beauties from around the world—was taken aback. Thankfully, his black sunglasses hid his expression.

Watching Luo Quan carefully slip her small, delicate feet into the heels, wiggling her ankles to test the fit, Raphael suddenly thought of someone.

He murmured: “She looks just like Cinderella…”

“What?” Luo Quan looked up, puzzled.

Raphael shook his head firmly. “No. I can’t let you go out looking so plain. Cinderella had a fairy godmother to turn her into a princess. You? You have me.”

Luo Quan still didn’t get it. “What do you mean?”

Raphael said nothing. He snapped his fingers again. His assistant wheeled over a tall white box. He pulled open the aluminum roller shutter—inside hung a dazzling array of gowns that would make any girl scream.

“This dress—it’s perfect for you!” Raphael selected one, holding it up before Luo Quan.