DM Chapter 56

Chapter 56: Hello Kitty and the Bow?

Even as Jiang Xiaoyuan sat in the prelimenary exam hall, she was still in a state of confusion.

Judging from what Jiang Bo said, does this mean he no longer plans to personally handle the work?

Is he planning to focus on external relations, finding clients, and wholeheartedly being a boss who only cares about business operations, without continuing as a stylist?

Normally, if someone did this, Jiang Xiaoyuan could understand. But this was Teacher Jiang, who was known for being excessively perfectionistic!

Teacher Jiang was dull and lonely, with no interest in family life. His only true love was his career as a stylist. Would such a small position as “a boss” make him give up on his true passion?

Moreover, being this kind of boss wasn’t even interesting; his only employee was Jiang Xiaoyuan, who was not only disobedient but argued with him constantly.

As she was trapped in these random, swirling thoughts, Jiang Xiaoyuan’s number was called.

“Number 35, Jiang Xiaoyuan, is Number 35 not here?”

Jiang Xiaoyuan quickly stood up: “Here, present!”

The staff calling numbers gave her a disdainful look and said, “You’re zoning out even before the preliminaries. Are you sure you really want to participate? Get inside!”

Encountering a setback before even entering the door, she felt things weren’t off to a good start. Jiang Xiaoyuan had a premonition that this interview might not go well, and she couldn’t help but feel a little nervous.

She had heard that the regional preliminaries would be divided into three rounds. This interview was just the first round, where three-fourths of the contestants would be eliminated. The next round would be a written test, eliminating half of the remaining participants. Finally, in the third round, contestants would have to create a time-limited look on the spot, and five winners would be selected to advance to the national competition.

The interview location was a large tiered lecture hall. On the podium, there was a computer and a projector, where the contestant’s VCR and works were displayed. In the large room, there were only four judges, each wearing an expression of boredom.

Sweeping her gaze over the judges, she noticed one was playing on his phone, one was spacing out, one yawned loudly with his mouth wide open, and another was focused on knitting a sweater!

Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…”

Her initial nervousness dissipated instantly. She felt that being nervous in front of such people was beneath her.

According to the procedure, she first played her VCR. Barely two minutes in, the judges began whispering to each other, their eyes never once focusing on the screen.

Next was the part where Jiang Xiaoyuan had to explain her styling plan.

Just as she was about to launch into her carefully prepared speech about her concept, the knitting judge interrupted, “We’re short on time. Skip the explanation, just show us the final result.”

Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…”

“Fine, I’ll show you the result. Prepare to be amazed, mortals!” she thought fiercely as she dragged the progress bar to the end, showcasing her entire design.

“This is the final result—front, back, side views, and detailed shots. Please, teachers, provide your comments,” Jiang Xiaoyuan said, trying to stay calm.

But the overwhelming reaction she expected never came.

Two of the judges just glanced at it indifferently and continued knitting or playing on their phones. The other two, slightly more professional, whispered to each other for a moment before giving a lukewarm response.

One of them said to Jiang Xiaoyuan: “Alright, you can close it now. According to the process, we have a few questions for you.”

Damn, not only did they not appreciate it, they didn’t even offer a single critique.

Jiang Xiaoyuan felt a deep sense of disappointment flooding her heart. The judges, however, carried on indifferently.

Judge: “Tell us why do you want to be a stylist.”

Jiang Xiaoyuan steadied herself: “I’ve always…”

The judge coldly interrupted: “Pay attention to the time. Please be brief.”

Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…loved the styling profession.”

Judge: “Is that all?”

Jiang Xiaoyuan nodded, thinking: “You told me to be brief, didn’t you?”

Unmoved by her underwhelming answer, the judge nodded perfunctorily and continued, “Please briefly tell us about your most successful work.”

Jiang Xiaoyuan: “My most successful work so far was the one I just showed you.”

After speaking, she realized her tone might have carried a bit of resentment and added: “There will be better ones in the future, and I hope I can have the opportunity to show them to you teachers.”

The knitting judge finally looked up and smiled, taking over the conversation: “It’s good to have confidence. I believe that day will come. Now, tell us about your career goals—what kind of stylist do you want to become?”

Jiang Xiaoyuan paused, momentarily unsure where to begin.

She had once loved painting, loved sculpture, loved photography—she had loved so many things but hadn’t mastered any of them, though she had excelled at spending money.

She wanted to say, “I’m ready to dedicate my life to art,” but she knew that art wasn’t likely to accept her sacrifice.

She also wanted to say, “I want to make my name remembered in the history of styling and create the best studio in Asia,” but that sounded like the same clichéd bravado. Nine out of ten people who came to participate in the competition have already boasted about this without knowing the sky is high and the earth is deep[mfn]天高地厚” (Tiān gāo dì hòu) literally translates to “the sky is high and the earth is deep.” It’s a common expression used to describe the vastness and immensity of the world.[/mfn].

Perhaps her pause was too long, as the judge who initially questioned her checked his watch and said to the staff at the door, “Call the next contestant.”

“I want to preserve the beauty I can see,” Jiang Xiaoyuan suddenly said.

The judge looked at her, and Jiang Xiaoyuan held her gaze firmly, “I want to become a top stylist, though I may lack a bit of skill or luck, and the outcome might not be in my control. I want to build the best studio in Asia, though the market may not recognize my efforts. But at least, every time, I’ll give my best and present what I believe is the finest work—not necessarily to move others, but at least to move myself.”

The knitting judge, in between stitches, finally offered a human response: “Your work is good. Out of the dozens of people I’ve interviewed today, yours left the deepest impression on me.”

This was the only comforting thing Jiang Xiaoyuan had heard during this dismal interview. But before she could even feel touched, the knitting judge casually tossed her materials aside, not paying her any further attention.

The staff at the door said: “Alright, you can go now. Call the next one.”

Jiang Xiaoyuan swallowed back her thanks, silently packed her USB drive, and walked out.

From where she stood to the door was about seven or eight steps. With each step, she told herself, “Don’t take yourself too seriously,” repeating it seven or eight times until her restless heart finally calmed down.

As soon as she walked out the door, another contestant rushed up and asked, “How was it? How was it?”

After a moment of stunned silence, she instinctively flashed a cynical smile and replied, “What else? That’s just how it is. The interview was shallow and superficial, just a formality. Better hurry and find someone to secure a spot for me.”

There’s a rumor that “people who are serious are the most attractive,” but if that’s true, why do so many people act nonchalant and carefree every day?

If it’s not some addiction to self-sabotage, it’s probably because in certain situations, being serious makes one too easily embarrassed.

To avoid embarrassment, people tacitly agree to act indifferent, hoping that if they keep pretending, they’ll eventually become immune to hurt.

As Jiang Xiaoyuan left the interview hall and walked down the corridor, her steps suddenly halted—she saw a familiar face near the registration area.

Ms. Fan was chatting easily with someone wearing an armband from the preliminary committee at the entrance.

The uneasiness Jiang Xiaoyuan had been feeling suddenly plummeted into her gut, causing a wave of nausea to surge through her body.

Ms. Fan seemed to sense someone watching her and turned her head to spot Jiang Xiaoyuan at the other end of the hallway. She smiled meaningfully and greeted her: “Oh, it’s you, young lady. So, you’re the one representing your studio in the competition?”

Jiang Xiaoyuan hadn’t yet learned how to conceal her emotions deeply and didn’t know what expression to put on in response.

Ms. Fan turned to the committee member beside her and said, “Look at that, these young girls are truly remarkable these days. So young, and she’s already representing a studio in a competition. Her boss must really trust her—how about it, Miss Jiang? Feeling confident?”

Jiang Xiaoyuan wanted to muster a confident smile, but she couldn’t.

With a beaming face, Ms. Fan continued: “There are so many people registered for the preliminaries. The competition is really fierce, but no worries, it’s all about the experience. You learn a lot just by participating, right?”

Jiang Xiaoyuan fully understood the implication behind her words. Her ears began buzzing, and she could no longer stay. She fled the school building hosting the preliminaries, running several hundred meters before stopping, still feeling as if Ms. Fan’s snake-like gaze was stuck to her, following her wherever she went.

Jiang Xiaoyuan angrily shoved the carefully prepared materials into a trash bin by the road, only to realize at the last second, as her USB drive was about to fall in, what she was doing. In a panic, she tried to retrieve it.

Unfortunately, she was born without sports talent, and lived up to everyone’s expectations.

She stood there in the biting autumn wind, on the verge of tears, staring at the trash bin in disbelief. Finally, gritting her teeth, she took off her jacket, rolled up her sleeves, and tipped the bin over to look inside.

Thank goodness, the trash had just been collected, and the bag inside was still relatively clean.

Jiang Xiaoyuan rummaged around on the roadside and found two long branches. Using them clumsily like a pair of chopsticks, she tried to fish out the USB drive. After about ten failed attempts, she finally managed to clamp it out.

She wrapped the USB in a napkin and tucked it into her pocket, suddenly understanding why Jiang Bo hadn’t participated in the competition.

He must have foreseen the outcome, knowing that Fan Xiaoxiao had already arranged everything and wouldn’t let him stand out no matter what. But he probably hadn’t expected that Fan Xiaoxiao would go so far as to show up personally at the preliminary round in order to destroy them, just to ensure Jiang Xiaoyuan wouldn’t slip through the cracks.

Jiang Xiaoyuan thought of the constantly lowering prices at the studio and realized, albeit belatedly, that Mr. Jiang had quietly been bearing a great deal of pressure all along.

In an instant, a flood of frustration and guilt surged through her, leaving her restless and desperate for a place to cry.

Just then, a familiar car pulled up by the roadside. The window rolled down, and Qi Lian stuck his head out. “I had some business around here and heard your interview for the competition was today. How did it go?”

Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…”

In moments like this, Qi Lian was one of the last people she wanted to see.

She could only imagine how Qi Lian saw her in his mind—was she an unlucky person who had never been happy since she was born?

But what could she do? She couldn’t just pretend not to hear and walk away, could she?

Jiang Xiaoyuan silently took a deep breath, turning around while desperately trying to collect herself.

“Oh, it’s you! Looks like I’ll be getting a ride again today,” she said, feigning a carefree attitude. “The competition was just for fun. There are so many big shots, who am I compared to them?”

Qi Lian studied her expression, frowning slightly: “Get in.”

Jiang Xiaoyuan had suddenly acquired a strange ability—to block out her emotions according to the situation. While working on the “Spring Bride” project, she had constantly thought about Qi Lian’s sour bowl of noodles and the faint undercurrent of warmth and awkwardness in the kitchen that day.

She thought seeing Qi Lian again might be awkward, but now, the embarrassment and ambiguity were all swept aside, along with her frustration and resentment.

She was numb, impervious to anything.

Once in the car, Qi Lian asked, “So, what happened? Was there a problem with the interview?”

Jiang Xiaoyuan briefly denied it: “No.”

Qi Lian was about to say something when Jiang Xiaoyuan, noticing his intent, casually interrupted him, “Could you stop at the newsstand up ahead? I need to buy a magazine.”

She bought a fashion magazine, holding it like an impenetrable shield. As she sat in the passenger seat, she absentmindedly flipped through it, occasionally making offhand comments about the designers of major brands, leaving Qi Lian no room to speak.

He frowned more and more until, as she critiqued a new handbag design for looking like a child’s paper-cutting project, he bluntly cut in: “Stop dodging. Tell me about the interview.”

“There’s nothing to say,” Jiang Xiaoyuan responded calmly. “They looked at the portfolio, asked some routine questions, and it was over. Honestly, for a competition like this, Mr. Jiang would be more suited. Me? I haven’t even qualified for high-end design exams yet. If I really won something, wouldn’t that be a bit unreasonable?”

Qi Lian was silent for a while. “Can I see your work later?”

Jiang Xiaoyuan glanced at him—Qi Lian, like most men, stuck to black, white, gray, and khaki. No one would even notice if he changed clothes all year long.

“What would you understand?” Jiang Xiaoyuan asked. “’Hello Kitty’ and bows?”

Qi Lian had nothing to say. He really didn’t know anything about their field.

After a while, he said, “You don’t seem right. You seem upset. What’s bothering you?”

Jiang Xiaoyuan: “I’m as busy as a dog—what would there be to be happy about? Oh, I’ve arrived. Thanks for the ride today.”

Before the car had fully stopped, Jiang Xiaoyuan coldly got out, shutting out all of Qi Lian’s concern behind her. She had no desire to share her troubles with him, just as she wouldn’t want to face her crush without makeup.

When Jiang Xiaoyuan returned to the studio, Jiang Bo was still absent, and there was no sign of the big news he had mentioned in the morning.

She ignored the client materials and work on her desk, gave herself a half-day off, cleaned up the USB she’d thrown in the trash, and logged into Nirvana Studio’s marketing account. She casually edited her unnoticed competition entry and posted it online.

Oddly enough, the online world felt more comforting than real life. Fans she had slowly accumulated over time started responding.

One fan asked: “Did Nirvana win?”

Jiang Xiaoyuan replied: “I think we’ll be eliminated.”

As soon as she posted that, fans filled the comment section with “They’re blind,” “What a joke of a competition,” “The committee must be corrupt,” and so on, venting their outrage on her behalf. Jiang Xiaoyuan’s depressed mood finally eased a little.

By evening, Jiang Bo returned.

Jiang Xiaoyuan thought he would at least ask about the result, but Mr. Jiang didn’t say a word. He must have heard from some source that Fan Xiaoxiao was at the scene and had already guessed the outcome.

Jiang Xiaoyuan: “What was the big news you wanted to tell me this morning?”

Empress Dowager Jiang: “That nail polish color of yours is awful. Go wash it off.”

Jiang Xiaoyuan rolled her eyes, ready to argue, but before she could say a word, Jiang Bo continued: “That’s the first thing. The second is—I found an investor. I’m thinking of using their help to move the studio. What do you think?”