DM Chapter 54

Chapter 54: Spring Bride

 

The first time Jiang Xiaoyuan saw the four characters “Spring Bride,” she actually felt a spark of inspiration.

“Spring” is refreshing, “bride” is sweet; the two requirements implied in the title are quite clear.

For female stylists, “refreshing” and “sweet” are both strong suits. Even if they don’t work professionally, they usually have a lot of insights from dressing themselves, making this topic feel like a piece of cake. However, after Jiang Xiaoyuan exhausted herself dealing with Jiang Bo’s clients, staring blankly at the mess of sketches in her notebook while sitting in the studio’s living room, her once inspired mind suddenly felt empty, like a house that had been ransacked, leaving nothing behind.

“Spring Bride” — how to create it? Green and white?

Jiang Xiaoyuan suddenly recalled that ad for “milk tea,” and it made her feel uneasy.

At this moment, Jiang Bo finally wandered out of the lounge like a wandering soul. He walked to the sofa, kicked her leg lightly, and ordered: “Go order takeout for me.”

Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…”

When she returned from the takeout call, she found the Empress Dowager sitting on the sofa, reviewing the preliminary plan she had drafted after communicating with the client.

Jiang Xiaoyuan’s heart sank, thinking, “It’s over.”

She had been completely out of it, and the rough plan she had managed to sketch out could only fool an amateur client; there was no way it would work on Teacher Jiang.

Teacher Jiang never tolerated any incompetence in his work. It didn’t matter how he acted outside of work; if the job wasn’t done well, he would make sure she knew it.

Sure enough, the next second, Jiang Bo threw her shabby sketchbook onto the table, raised his sharp eyebrows, suppressed his boiling anger, and asked ominously: “What is this?”

Jiang Xiaoyuan had no words to respond.

Jiang Bo: “Where’s the recorder? Give it to me.”

When discussing plans with clients, they sometimes use a recorder to capture the conversation, with the client’s consent, to avoid mistakes in the stylist’s subsequent thoughts.

Jiang Xiaoyuan knew she hadn’t taken this client attentively, making her feel even more guilty. She tiptoed to the wall and brought back the recorder, trembling as she handed it to Teacher Jiang.

Jiang Bo shot her a glance, plugged in the headphones, and sat on the sofa with a grim face, flipping through Jiang Xiaoyuan’s doodled plan while listening, as if ready to show his claws and scratch her face at any moment.

Jiang Xiaoyuan barely dared to breathe, and when she stealthily slipped out to pick up the takeout, speaking to the delivery girl felt like an undercover operation; the girl hurriedly accepted the money and ran off in fright.

Like a little eunuch, she arranged the takeout in a row before Teacher Jiang, not daring to kneel or speak, feeling dejected as she waited to be scolded.

Half an hour later, Jiang Bo put down the sketchbook and the recorder, pushed the sketchbook back to Jiang Xiaoyuan, and silently began eating his own food.

Jiang Xiaoyuan nervously accepted it and read through the revised plan Jiang Bo had annotated from beginning to end. She had to admit that he was indeed serious; there were many points she had considered but hadn’t written down when she was distracted.

Jiang Bo must have been starving for a long time; he quickly finished his meal, wiped his mouth, and tapped the table, “Take it away, and pour me a glass of water.”

Jiang Xiaoyuan quietly cleaned up the table and poured him a glass of water.

Jiang Bo: “I won’t pursue this matter today. You must be thinking about the preliminaries, right? Are you disappointed with this selection method?”

Jiang Xiaoyuan considered herself not a cynical person and understood social nuances, but she suddenly found it hard to get over this hurdle.

After all, someone who works tirelessly under the stars and moon, whose efforts can even move themselves, is meaningless in front of the organizing committee? Can others easily be kept out of the competition based solely on connections and relationships?

So, she remained silent for a moment.

Jiang Bo: “Your disappointment isn’t worth a penny. Hurry up and get over it; no one cares — wait until one day your name appears in the high-ranking seats of the competition committee before you can talk about what you like or dislike. For now? Ha!”

That day, surprisingly, Jiang Bo neither yelled nor scolded her but simply let out a cold laugh of “haha”, leaving Jiang Xiaoyuan feeling even more frustrated, wishing she had just been shouted at instead.

Empress Dowager Jiang slightly lifted his chin: “Get out, go work.”

Jiang Xiaoyuan packed up her sketchbook and walked along the wall.

In the following three days, Jiang Xiaoyuan began working on her preliminary plan. She had to get it approved by Empress Dowager Jiang; only with his nod could it be finalized. However, Jiang Bo seemed to be in a menopausal mood, making things difficult for her at every turn.

First Plan —

“This manicure is called ‘Spring Bride’? Whose bride? The spider spirit marrying the Black Mountain Old Demon[mfn]The phrase “The spider spirit marrying the Black Mountain Old Demon” is a reference to a type of grotesque or supernatural imagery common in Chinese folklore and mythology.[/mfn]? Take it back and redo it. Manicures are meant to complement; if they don’t, it’s better not to do them at all.”

Jiang Xiaoyuan complied and removed the manicure from the second plan.

Jiang Bo said again, “Are you going to let the bride stretch out her bare hands to welcome the warmth of spring? Redo it!”

Third Plan —

“No, it’s too complicated on the head. Are you going to place a phoenix crown[mfn]A phoenix crown is an ornate headdress traditionally worn by Chinese empresses and noblewomen during formal occasions, particularly weddings. It is richly adorned with gold, jewels, and intricate designs, often featuring a phoenix, which symbolizes nobility, beauty, and grace in Chinese culture. In a wedding context, the phoenix crown signifies high status and is a symbol of the bride’s honor and auspicious future.[/mfn] on her head? And the colors are too heavy, like a ghost marriage[mfn]A ghost marriage refers to a traditional Chinese practice where one or both parties in a marriage are deceased. This ritual is carried out to honor the dead and provide them with a “spouse” in the afterlife. The belief stems from the idea that marriage is essential for the well-being of the spirits of the dead, and it ensures that they are not lonely in the afterlife. There are several types of ghost marriages.

Marriage to a deceased person: In this type of marriage, a deceased person is symbolically married to another deceased person. This is often done to ensure the deceased person’s happiness in the afterlife or to fulfill a family’s wish for a descendant.

Marriage to a living person: In this type of marriage, a deceased person is symbolically married to a living person. This is often done to appease the deceased person’s spirit or to fulfill a family’s wish for a descendant.

Proxy marriage: In this type of marriage, two deceased people are symbolically married through proxies. This is often done when it is difficult or impossible to find a suitable match for one of the deceased people.[/mfn].”

Fourth Plan —

“Flat and tasteless, leaving no impression. Do you think that as long as it’s ‘white,’ it’s beautiful? Can you outshine wall paint and toilet paper?”

By the time the fifth plan was completed, it was already the evening of the third day. Jiang Xiaoyuan rushed to the door just as Jiang Bo was about to leave, “Teacher Jiang…”

Jiang Bo had one foot on the threshold and, upon hearing her, casually glanced back. This time, he didn’t even bother with a critique; he simply summarized, “What a joke!”

After several days of torment from him, Jiang Xiaoyuan was close to losing her mind. Feeling rebellious, she shot back, “This thing, if submitted, might not even get looked at; that’s what you said!”

Jiang Bo halted and coldly stared at her: “Just because no one looks doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want.”

Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…”

Deep down, she didn’t really think that way. She poured her heart and soul into her private work and revised them repeatedly. How could she not take the competition seriously? She had just been frustrated and said something impulsively.

Jiang Xiaoyuan wished she would never have to do bridal makeup again; just thinking about it was exhausting. All the love she had felt was worn down by repeated revisions.

Jiang Bo: “When you do something, whether it succeeds or fails can be observed later. But for a work of art, once it’s out there for others to see, your level is defined in their eyes. If you think your personal image doesn’t matter, then it’s up to you how you want to present it. I gave you three days to come up with a plan; it’s already overdue. If it’s not done by tomorrow, you don’t need to worry about embarrassing me!”

With that, he didn’t even give her a warning and closed the door behind him.

Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…”

In the vast duplex studio, she was left alone.

She worked here and lived here, and over time, she developed a strange illusion that her life was confined within this small space.

Jiang Xiaoyuan took a few steps back with her plan and plopped down on the floor.

Aesthetics is a hard thing to articulate; everyone has their own preferences. What you find beautiful, others might not agree with, unlike sports, which have a fixed measuring system — higher and faster is better.

Having created countless bridal looks, Jiang Xiaoyuan felt as if she no longer recognized the two characters “bride” after staring at the plan for so long. She had no clue which direction to revise it.

Jiang Xiaoyuan inserted her fingers into her hair, gripping the roots tightly.

Suddenly, she thought: “Maybe I just lack talent?”

Stylists and art are interconnected; styling itself is an art form. Unlike other fields, where effort may move heaven and achieve success, art doesn’t work that way. A slight lack of inspiration can mean the difference between heaven and earth. As the saying goes, “The ancestors won’t feed the idle,” distinguishing the “masters” from the “craftsmen.”

If a person spends their entire life pouring their heart and soul into their work, only to become a skilled craftsman, what’s the point?

Empress Dowager Jiang hadn’t said anything; even if he had, it wouldn’t help. That slight difference in skill is hard to comprehend. Jiang Xiaoyuan would never know what that gap looked like through Jiang Bo’s eyes. It felt as if there was a vast chasm between them.

This left her incredibly frustrated. Her mind felt like a car that just wouldn’t start, making it nearly impossible to settle down and think.

When you first enter a certain field, you can’t tell whether you have talent or not. All you can do is work hard.

But once you reach a certain level, you hit a bottleneck. Jiang Xiaoyuan vaguely felt that the cruel moment of relying on talent had arrived. She had finally completed her long journey, only to open the gift box from the heavens—how ironic would it be if she found nothing inside?

Feeling restless, Jiang Xiaoyuan paced around the room a few times before grabbing her coat and heading out.

She wandered aimlessly along the street, her mind suspended in midair, unsettled. She thought: Maybe I should just focus on bridal makeup. If I do it openly and fully commit, I could stop sneaking around to take private jobs. If I specialize, I could earn six or seven thousand a month on average, and during the busy wedding season in May or October, it could even hit five figures. That’s about as much as a regular makeup artist earns—why shouldn’t I be satisfied?

Anyway, living in this city with her grandmother was more than enough.

With this thought, a smooth path suddenly opened up before her, and all the visible hardships and anxieties instantly seemed to retreat far away. She could see to the very bottom of her life in one glance.

Jiang Xiaoyuan looked up and realized that at some point, she had walked to the hair salon where she used to work.

The evening news program was almost over, but the salon was still buzzing with people. Jiang Xiaoyuan, as if guided by some invisible force, walked in. The receptionist at the front desk greeted her automatically: “Welcome… Oh! It’s Teacher Xiaoyuan!”

It was still that same embarrassing title of “teacher” used for even the interns, something Jiang Xiaoyuan had grown unaccustomed to. She couldn’t help but let out a small, awkward cough: “Uh… I’m here to…”

A figure suddenly popped out and grabbed Jiang Xiaoyuan’s arm: “What are you doing back here?”

Jiang Xiaoyuan looked down at Lily’s face, now rounder than before, and felt a little embarrassed. She replied, “I just want a haircut. I haven’t taken care of it in a long time and thought I’d trim the ends.”

Lily laughed:“You can’t trim your own ends? You’re already here, why not get a scalp treatment too?”

The basic scalp treatment cost 649 yuan, and Jiang Xiaoyuan was in the startup phase, saving money, so such an expense didn’t fit her self-image. She was just about to decline when Lily said, “For you, it’s 49 yuan… let’s call it 50, and I’ll do the treatment and trim for you!”

Jiang Xiaoyuan: “Is our salon going out of business?”

Lily: “Employee discount—no need to pretend.”

Upon hearing this, Jiang Xiaoyuan, unable to resist a good deal, happily followed along.

For over twenty years, Jiang Xiaoyuan had always been a VIP customer at hair salons, only working in one for half a year. Now, after a year had passed, she felt strange returning as a customer again… not to mention, the prices felt strange too.

Boss Chen, wasn’t around; ever since his wife got pregnant, he had been too distracted to work, spending all his time doting on her.

The staff came out to greet Jiang Xiaoyuan, and even Xiao K waved at her. Helen, who rarely smiled, even cracked a smile and said, “Come by more often.”

Back then, she pinched her like a black eyed chicken[mfn]In Chinese folklore, black-eyed chickens are sometimes associated with misfortune or bad luck. The phrase “pinching someone like a black-eyed chicken” is a colorful expression used to describe someone being very stingy or miserly.[/mfn], but now, suddenly, it seemed like all grudges had naturally dissolved.

Jiang Xiaoyuan entrusted her long hair to Lily, and as she lay on the shampoo chair, she heard Lily ask, “How’s the water temperature? Is the pressure alright?”

Suddenly, Jiang Xiaoyuan remembered Boss Chen’s lesson on serving clients with the same passion as one loves their country and couldn’t stop laughing.

Lily: “Alright, enough, cooperate a little.”

Washing a friend’s hair naturally called for extra care. Lily’s massage skills seemed to have improved a lot since the old days, so Jiang Xiaoyuan asked: “When are you planning to become a senior stylist?”

Lily paused and replied, “Senior stylists have to pay for their own training. Maybe later.”

Jiang Xiaoyuan:, “Isn’t training a good investment? You’d earn it back in a year or two. Whatever you learn, you’ll always have it.”

“One day at a time,” Lily replied. “Who knows how many more years I can keep doing this? My family’s been urging me to go back home and start looking for a husband before New Years. I finally saved up a bit of money, and if I spend it all on training, I’ll get a tiny raise and then quit to return home… What’s the point?”

Jiang Xiaoyuan fell silent.

“I don’t have your talents. I can’t settle down in the city. Sooner or later, I’ll have to go back. If I go sooner, I can still find a good match while I’m young. I really envy you,” Lily paused, then continued, “I really envy you.”

Jiang Xiaoyuan recalled a recent conversation with Jiang Bo about “the freedom theory,” and now, in her current state, she felt a bit ashamed. She laughed awkwardly: “It’s all nonsense.”

Lily shook her head and said with firm conviction: “You’re going to make a lot of money in the future, for sure.”

Jiang Xiaoyuan was amused, knowing what Lily considered “making a lot of money.” Lily’s dream was to become a senior makeup artist, and while Jiang Xiaoyuan wasn’t quite at that income level yet due to her studio’s demands, if she really wanted to, it wasn’t out of reach.

Suddenly, Jiang Xiaoyuan realized just how far she’d come in other people’s eyes.

After the scalp treatment, she felt her body loosen up, and the tightness in her temples seemed to ease as well. She felt much lighter.

Jiang Xiaoyuan slowly walked back down the street, and as she looked up, she saw the store where Qi Lian had once bought her clothes. She walked in to take a look but was immediately dazzled by the store’s overwhelming girlish style. Glancing at the price tags, she found them unexpectedly expensive. She threw a disdainful look at the confused shop assistant and left with her hands behind her back.

The night air was starting to get chilly. Jiang Xiaoyuan wondered what she had been doing this time last year.

Her restless heart suddenly calmed down. When she looked back at her life over the past year, she realized she had gone so far that it was beyond what she had dared to imagine.

Looking back, it felt as though a giant miracle had been following her every step, like a shadow.

When someone has walked such a long path, does talent really matter?

“Spring Bride” must feel fresh and innocent, with no unnecessary flourishes, carrying a few hints of naive impulsiveness.

But it can’t be too plain either, because her heart is brimming with lively emotions… What kind of emotions, though?

Jiang Xiaoyuan slowed her pace, searching her memories for something that matched that mood. Then, suddenly, she thought she smelled a faint scent of rice vinegar.

Like a bowl of noodles cooked just a little too plainly.

She spaced out for a moment, then suddenly thought: Whenever people talk about ‘spring,’ it’s always about green trees and plants—why can’t I try a warm color palette?

 

 

 

---

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 ❤️ 

PAYPAL

 

---