Chapter 2959: You Are My Fashion Darling 18

Just then, Min Heng also came running down from upstairs, happened to hear Gan Wang's last sentence, secretly pleased—looks like he doesn't need to stir things up further; someone has already spoken up for him.

Everyone's gaze, including the camera, was fixed on Jin Chen, waiting to see how this perpetually aloof youth would react—whether he'd lash out in anger, panic and fumble his defense, or flee in shame.

Though he was clearly under siege and questioning, appearing isolated and helpless, it seemed as if all the surrounding clamor and malice were merely a breeze brushing a rock—unable to shake Jin Chen in the slightest.

Jin Chen suddenly reached out, his motion not fast, even somewhat casual.

Gan Wang's heart tightened; he instinctively wanted to step back, thinking Jin Chen would strike, but behind him were his companions and the wall—nowhere to retreat.

But Jin Chen's hand didn't land on his face; lowering his eyes, his fingers adjusted the shoulder strap, straightening the slightly askew insignia.

The gesture could even be called gentle, yet the instant Jin Chen's fingertips touched the shoulder strap, Gan Wang shuddered uncontrollably, gooseflesh rising all over, his breath caught, as if locked onto by some cold predator.

"I don't have the energy to argue with you right now," Jin Chen said, his voice a little hoarse. "Did you see what that is?"

Gan Wang instinctively followed his gaze outward; outside the window, the swimming pool downstairs glittered in the sunlight.

"Full of energy and nowhere to vent it—go swim a hundred laps."

Gan Wang's face flushed instantly; he wanted to say something, but Jin Chen's gaze made his throat tighten.

He even suspected that if he objected, Jin Chen might just throw him straight down.

Jin Chen leaned forward slightly, drew closer, and said slowly, "If you really can't, go ask Adams yourself."

Gan Wang: "!!!"

His pupils contracted slightly from fright.

Jin Chen's demeanor was too calm, merely an empty indifference to everything.

It seemed as if nothing in this world truly mattered to him; if they kept pestering, dying together would be no big deal.

After Jin Chen left the hallway and a few seconds passed, Gan Wang, as if drained, leaned against the wall, his forehead slick with cold sweat.

Min Heng's complexion was also grim.

Jin Chen's reaction was completely beyond his expectation, instead making them look like petty clowns.

After the bullet comments experienced a brief explosive flood, an odd gap appeared, followed by even more heated discussion.

: I swear… Bro Otaku just now… was so scary!

: What kind of look was that?! It scared me to death!

: But he still didn't explain! Why isn't he clear about it?

: What does he mean by saying to go ask Adams himself?

: It means let him go die.

——

Jin Chen clung to the last of his willpower, forcing himself back to his room.

A violent headache and nausea surged like a tide, his vision darkened in waves, his ears rang nonstop, and his heart ached with a dull throb.

He staggered to the bedside, grabbed the blanket, and wrapped himself tightly, curling into a ball.

The dark, enclosed space gave a faint false sense of safety, but the inner pain could not be erased; the forcibly summoned memory fragments still surged through his mind, mingling with the physiological splitting headache, leaving him chilled and trembling uncontrollably.

He didn't know how long had passed—perhaps just a few minutes—in a daze, Jin Chen heard the lock click open.

Jin Chen pulled the blanket tighter, his curled posture full of defensiveness—he didn't want to see anyone, hear anything.

The mattress sank slightly as someone sat on the bedside, gently gripping the wrist that protruded from the blanket.

The temperature was pleasant, yet it made Jin Chen feel as if scalded; he shoved the hand away with all his strength.

He was all spikes now; any approach would be seen as a threat.

"Don't touch me……"

Chenshu's hand hovered in midair for a moment, then didn't withdraw; his brows knit deeply, his eyes filled with an ache that wouldn't fade, plus a hint of self‑reproach.

"Jin Chen, it's me."

Chenshu tried again, placing his hand over Jin Chen's exposed one, asking, "It hurts, doesn't it?"

"Shall I have the doctor bring some medicine? It'll help you feel better."

He could feel the skin beneath his hand tensed tight, full of resistance.

After a while, the blanket was lifted just enough from inside to reveal Jin Chen's pallid face, his lips nearly bloodless except for a spot where his lower lip had been bitten, a glaring red.

He weakly propped himself up a bit, leaning against the headboard; from insufficient blood flow and the pounding headache, waves of dizziness washed over him, making everything look blurry.

Jin Chen narrowed his eyes, his gaze vaguely resting on Chenshu's face; his beautiful eyes were shadowed by pain, and he emptily twitched the corner of his mouth.

"Chief Chenshu came in person…… is he here to deliver the termination notice?" He seemed to be trying to gather his scattered thoughts.

"Trouble…… can we put it off a day? I don't have the strength to sign today."

Those words were like a blunt knife sawing back and forth in Chenshu's heart; he knew Jin Chen was speaking in anger, a stress‑induced self‑protection, yet it only made him ache more.

"What termination? Who wants to terminate with you?" Chenshu immediately denied.

He took hold of Jin Chen's still‑trembling hand again: "No termination, Jin Chen, none."

He repeated it, his fingertips lightly stroking the icy skin on the back of Jin Chen's hand, trying to convey a bit of warmth: "I didn't believe them; I've had someone look into it, and we'll have results soon."

Jin Chen startled, his unfocused eyes snapping to attention for a moment, landing on Chenshu's face.

He found it hard to understand why, at this point, Chenshu could still look at him with that eyes and speak to him in that tone.

Those malicious speculations, Chenshu couldn't have missed them—he's the show's investor, a heavyweight in the fashion world; he ought to care most about reputation and influence.

The intense headache surged again; Jin Chen winced, closed his eyes, then opened them to find confusion surfacing beneath his usual coldness.

Jin Chen tilted his head away from Chenshu's overly focused gaze, his voice soft, uncertain, almost a mutter to himself: "Chenshu, are you…… being a little too good to me?"

It was so excessive it made him uneasy; so excessive that, amid the sky‑filling malice and icy memories, clinging to this sliver of warmth actually bred greed.