Chapter 24: What is Art?
The Feng Ruixue here is identical to the Feng Ruixue from the other world: meticulous and refined. Even though she knew she’d have to redo her makeup for the photoshoot, she still arrived fully made up, wearing a new designer scarf and carrying a small handbag. A diamond-studded watch glinted on her wrist.
Feng Ruixue pursed her thin lips, a trace of displeasure on her small chin, and silently sat in a corner on the sofa, ignoring everyone.
She didn’t recognize Jiang Xiaoyuan; this world’s Feng Ruixue had never encountered a spendthrift named Jiang Xiaoyuan. Yet, by some twist of fate, she ended up with Huo Boyu. When they walked in together, it looked like a crane forced to lead a colorful white-faced pheasant.
The sharp-witted cashier poked the dumbfounded bear of a photographer, who finally snapped out of it, jumped up, and rubbed his hands together to greet them. “Let me pour you a glass of water. You can first take a look at our work, choose a theme, and then the stylist can create the look to match it…”
He pointed at Jiang Xiaoyuan, successfully drawing the attention of her ex-boyfriend and her former best friend, who had stolen him, to Jiang Xiaoyuan.
Jiang Xiaoyuan kept a blank expression, feeling a mix of emotions.
Feng Ruixue’s gaze briefly swept over Jiang Xiaoyuan’s winter-summer outfit. “Is she the stylist?”
The photographer hesitantly confirmed.
Jiang Xiaoyuan’s white face was not convincing at all. Feng Ruixue must have been even more dissatisfied after seeing it. After a moment of silence, Feng Ruixue said sullenly, “She looks a little young. Is that okay?”
“She just looks young. She has been well maintained,” the photographer was so nervous that sweat broke out on his back and started to talk nonsense. “She is actually over 30 years old.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…”
She wanted to smack him.
The moment Jiang Xiaoyuan saw Feng Ruixue, she wanted to escape through the door, but her feet felt rooted to the ground, the absurdity of the situation making her both want to laugh and cry.
How did Feng Ruixue used to treat her? When Jiang Xiaoyuan visited her shop, Feng Ruixue would personally greet her at the door, pampering her more than any boyfriend ever had. Jiang Xiaoyuan said one thing, and Feng Ruixue would never say two. Whenever they talked, it was always enjoyable. But in hindsight, could two truly equal friends, no matter how good their relationship, go without ever arguing? Even if one had high emotional intelligence and could resolve most conflicts, wouldn’t there still be times when they felt down and didn’t want to engage with people?
How could one person always accommodate the other?
It must have been exhausting for Feng Ruixue to interact with her, always having to flatter her.
But now, the tables had turned. Jiang Xiaoyuan stood while Feng Ruixue sat. Jiang Xiaoyuan wore a stiff smile, and Feng Ruixue asked her face to face with distrust, “Is it okay?”
Huo Boyu put the sample film on his knees flatteringly, and asked after turning two pages: “How about this one? Hey, this one looks pretty good, right?”
Feng Ruixue kept her head down, playing with her phone, ignoring him.
The photographer stood to the side, his face red, looking as uncomfortable as someone sitting on pins and needles—a perfect match for the state of this rundown wedding photography studio.
After a few attempts to please her, Huo Boyu grew impatient. In the end, the two of them occupied opposite corners of the sofa, not speaking to each other. It was as if they were there to get a divorce certificate, not wedding photos.
The warm air from the air conditioner melted Jiang Xiaoyuan’s stiff limbs, and her blank brain slowly recovered. She lowered her head to organize the makeup tools in the photo studio.
She wondered if the Feng Ruixue from the other world would end up with Huo Boyu. Sooner or later, she would see through the facade of this handsome but shallow man, right? Would she regret it then? Would she forever remember the car accident?
Jiang Xiaoyuan thought she had only spaced out for a moment, but the photographer had to call her name three times before she snapped back to reality. Then she realized that Huo Boyu had already chosen a theme, and they were about to change outfits.
The cashier, who doubled as a receptionist, assistant, and wardrobe manager, quickly ran over to guide Feng Ruixue to the ladies’ dressing room.
Feng Ruixue initially remained motionless, her face expressionless. Huo Boyu leaned in, whispering in her ear, “Other places charge thousands for a set of photos; here it’s just a few hundred yuan. A photo is a photo, no matter where it’s taken. It might look run-down, but their skills could be good. Does it really need to be so fancy? They all turn out the same…”
Jiang Xiaoyuan watched coldly, feeling a pang of pity for Feng Ruixue.
Feng Ruixue abruptly shook him off, not even sparing Huo Boyu a glance, and followed the smirking cashier into the dressing room.
The photographer hurriedly shoved the selected sample photos into Jiang Xiaoyuan’s arms and quickly whispered: “This is the look; please take a close look. I’m begging you.”
He looked like a big bear selling honey along the street, pathetically wagging his tail at Jiang Xiaoyuan before rushing over to lead Huo Boyu to the men’s dressing room.
In the large, empty hall, Jiang Xiaoyuan was left alone to enjoy the cabinet air conditioner. Despite the warmth, she still felt cold. She felt cold looking at the pure white wedding dress in the photo, and she felt cold looking back at her past life that she could not go back to.
The clothes in this shabby photo studio were disgusting. When Feng Ruixue emerged, her brows were furrowed tightly, and goosebumps covered her bare shoulders. From Jiang Xiaoyuan’s understanding, she knew her tolerance was nearing its limit.
The cashier kindly suggested: “Maybe you could drape your scarf over yourself? I’ll go get it for you.”
“Don’t touch it!” Feng Ruixue blurted out, her disgust no longer hidden. “Your clothes here are filthy!”
The cashier’s face turned as red as a tomato.
Feng Ruixue was done being polite, her tone sharp as she said, “I brought my own makeup. I don’t need your stuff.”
She pulled out a small makeup bag from her purse, shot Jiang Xiaoyuan a glance, and asked bluntly: “Do you know how to use this?”
Normally, Jiang Xiaoyuan would have been furious at such a challenge, but she wasn’t.
As she approached Feng Ruixue, Jiang Xiaoyuan noticed details she had missed earlier—like the supposedly high-end designer makeup bag, which was actually a free gift from a cosmetic counter. Anyone who bought an eyebrow pencil could get one. And Feng Ruixue’s diamond-studded watch that looked frighteningly valuable. Jiang Xiaoyuan didn’t know about the movement, but she could tell at a glance that the colored gems on the twelve hour scales on the dial were wrong. The genuine watch was arranged clockwise from red to rainbow colors, but Miss Feng’s was arranged inside out and outside in. The logo had an extra little tail compared to the genuine one, almost mocking in its subtle inauthenticity.
Everything Feng Ruixue wore, except for the relatively affordable scarf, was fake.
In that instant, Jiang Xiaoyuan’s resentment evaporated. She casually checked the makeup in Feng Ruixue’s bag and calmly said: “Alright.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan picked up Feng Ruixue’s lipstick and examined it. “The color is a bit too bright. Since your lips are thin, a matte shade would suit you better. There’s a suitable one in the store. If you don’t mind, I can apply it with a cotton swab.”
Feng Ruixue glared at her for a moment, but seeing no reaction from Jiang Xiaoyuan, she grudgingly agreed.
Jiang Xiaoyuan was like a fish in water when she touched the cosmetics. She completely treated Feng Ruixue as a large puppet doll, and her eyes were always focused on a certain part of her face, and she didn’t look at Feng Ruixue at all.
In the other world, Feng Ruixue had once asked Jiang Xiaoyuan, “Why do you need so much superiority to survive?” Now, this Feng Ruixue, with her pretentious attitude and fake luxury, gave her the answer—
Because deep down, she knew she wasn’t exceptional. She knew what she truly was, so she desperately sought superiority in every aspect, creating an illusion of that “I am not the same kind of person as you” to mask her fear of her own mediocrity and incompetence.
“It’s so pathetic.” Jiang Xiaoyuan thought as she delicately applied lipstick to Feng Ruixue’s lips, carefully spreading the color like painting a flower blooming in flames. “We’re both idiots.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan used all her skills to create a flawless look for Feng Ruixue. She let her hair down and expertly used styling spray, showcasing the hairdressing skills she had honed at the salon.
The photographer, whose head was about to touch the beam, watched from the side, and thanked God with tears in his eyes. He felt that he had hit the jackpot – even if he was a rough man and an amateur, he could see that Jiang Xiaoyuan was much more skilled than the old Buddha makeup artist in their store. She seemed as familiar with Feng Ruixue’s face as her own, refining her features to such an extent that it made the tattered wedding dress look even more out of place.
Even Feng Ruixue was surprised by how skilled this unkempt stylist was. She stared at her reflection for a long time before turning to Jiang Xiaoyuan and asking: “Where did you learn to do makeup?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan wiped her hands while answering without looking up: “I was self-taught[mfn]Not exactly the most accurate translation but 野路子 (yě lù zi) means a person that has not undergone regular professional training or undergone an unorthodox method.[/mfn].”
Feng Ruixue scrutinized her for a moment, then suddenly hesitated and asked, “Have I… seen you somewhere before? You look a bit familiar.”
As soon as she said this, she realized it was odd and quickly added, “No, I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan smiled faintly, remaining silent, and swiftly completed Huo Boyu’s makeup. She then watched as the awkward photographer eagerly led them both into the photography room.
Sitting under the air conditioner and sunlight, Jiang Xiaoyuan flipped through the obviously fake and cheap sample photos, waiting to style the next set. At the same time, she reflected on her forgotten teenage years.
Before studying abroad, when her father asked what she wanted to learn in the future, she had answered without hesitation: “Art.”
Unfortunately, she ended up achieving nothing substantial in her studies and only became a dandy who loved dressing up and applying makeup.
Now, with all the glamour gone, as she looked back on a fleeting fragment of her life after a long period of settling down, it was impossible to relive.
She still owed Qi Lian over four thousand yuan, working patiently at a hair salon she hated. Occasionally, she was pulled into the nearby photography studio for auxiliary work, which served as a minor diversion in her life.
By the time she saved enough to buy winter clothes, spring would probably be here.
What is art? What does it have to do with her?
If you like our translation for this novel and want us to release more chapters frequently, feel free to support us on either our ko-fi and paypal ❤️
To read advanced chapters, feel free to visit our
✨ Ko-Fi✨
![The Villains Are All My Reserve Food [Quick Transmigration]](https://www.freenovels.net/wp-content/uploads/2025/04/Villains-are-Reserve-Food-1.jpg "The Villains Are All My Reserve Food [Quick Transmigration]")
