The styling professionals only managed to salvage what they could at a nearby salon, giving Yang Siqing a much-needed makeover.
It must be said, professionals are professionals.
The Yang Siqing who emerged from the salon was striking—a complete transformation that left everyone breathless.
The clothes were the same set, yet the piece ripped by Zhong Yun had been artfully trimmed into an asymmetrical wave.
The sleeves were gone, revealing fine threads at the raw edges, and the layers of deliberate crumpling made the garment look like a piece of cutting-edge fashion.
Her long, bird’s-nest hair was half-tied with a simple black cord, and the scruffy beard had clearly been meticulously trimmed, lending her an air of rugged disarray.
Paired with a pair of shades so cool they could freeze the atmosphere, she looked precisely like an elderly version of Schwarzenegger.
The down-and-out old vagrant had instantaneously morphed into a hip, stylishly cool elder.
It was truly an eye-opener for Zhong Yun; stylists were indeed a magical breed of beings.
The Mingzhu Tower stood as the undisputed landmark of Mingzhou City, anchoring the very center of the Central Avenue.
Sprawling over hundreds of thousands of square meters and soaring five kilometers high, the Mingzhu Tower was practically a micro-city unto itself.
Its exterior spiraled upward, appearing from a distance like a colossal white drill bit piercing the heavens, seemingly intent on boring a hole right through the sky.
Zhong Yun stood before the main entrance of the Mingzhu Tower, craning his neck upward.
The brightly lit structure extended endlessly, climbing through the thick cloud cover toward an unknown destination.
Faced with such a grand and magnificent edifice, Zhong Yun felt a genuine tremor of awe, especially when contemplating the prospect of shopping within this behemoth.
What immense fortitude must one possess to simply browse and spend in a place like this! Watching the stream of people entering and exiting the Mingzhu Tower, Zhong Yun couldn't help but feel a deep, unbidden respect.
“Let’s go in,” Chen Wen told them, his arm draped lightly around Yin Yin’s slender waist as he led the way through the grand doors.
To the left of the entrance stood dozens of massive elevators, pooling together the flow of countless people.
Chen Wen guided Zhong Yun and the others straight toward the very back, where a single, closed door stood.
Chen Wen produced a card and swiped it across the electronic lock on the door.
It slid open silently down the middle, revealing a small room of about ten square meters.
The floor was covered in pale yellow plush carpet, centered by two sofas and a glass table.
Several oil paintings, mimicking the style of Gālan, adorned the surrounding walls.
Yin Yin gazed around the room with fascination.
“This is the exclusive VIP elevator? It’s incredible.” Settling onto a sofa inside the small room, Zhong Yun could clearly see the people waiting outside by the regular elevators, shooting envious and jealous glances at their group.
The door slid shut slowly, sealing off the outside world’s view.
The elevator ascended with remarkable smoothness; they barely registered the movement upward.
Two minutes later, the doors opened again, and the four of them stepped out.
“Where are we?” Yin Yin looked left and right, clearly intrigued.
“The nine-hundredth floor of the Mingzhu Tower,” Chen Wen replied.
“Doesn't the Mingzhu Tower only have eight hundred and ninety-nine floors?” Yin Yin asked, confused.
Chen Wen was about to speak when a well-dressed middle-aged man approached.
Having learned of the arrival of the young master of the Chen family, he had immediately dropped his current tasks to greet them personally.
He spoke with false warmth, “Young Master Chen, it’s been quite some time since you last visited.” He concluded his greeting by nodding toward Zhong Yun and the other two, truly the picture of an effusive, smooth operator.
“Been quite busy lately,” Chen Wen chuckled.
“Today, I’ve brought you a major guest; you must treat him exceptionally well.” “Rest assured on that, Young Master Chen.
How could I possibly slight a guest you bring?” As he spoke, his eyes swept over the three guests, quickly fixing on Yang Siqing.
He thought, this must be the big client.
Unexpectedly, Chen Wen pulled Zhong Yun forward.
“Let me introduce you.
This is the manager here, Ou Feng—a notorious profiteer.
You must be cautious when buying things from him.” Ou Feng immediately protested with practiced indignation.
“Young Master Chen, you’re spreading libel! Everyone in the entire Mingzhou knows that I, Ou Feng, am the fairest man alive.” While speaking, Ou Feng’s eyes appraised the young man before him.
The Chen family heir had called him a major guest; though it might have been polite talk, the level of familiarity suggested this seemingly ordinary young man must have considerable standing.
Finally, his gaze settled upon the black bead chain on Zhong Yun’s left hand.
Suddenly, his pupils constricted, and he stared fixedly at the chain, an expression of profound shock washing over his face.
Seeing Ou Feng lose his composure so thoroughly, Chen Wen felt a surge of curiosity.
Ou Feng was entrusted with full responsibility for this floor, which was arguably the highest-class club in all of Mingzhou; he was clearly no simple character.
In truth, Ou Feng was not only adept at navigating social circles but was also a top-tier talent holding an A-level Appraiser certification.
In any profession, achieving an A-level rating meant one had reached mastery in that field.
Chen Wen subtly glanced at the bead chain on Zhong Yun’s hand.
It looked no different from any ordinary string of beads.
However, he trusted that Ou Feng was not prone to melodrama; this chain must possess some extraordinary origin.
“This is…” Ou Feng inhaled sharply, his body beginning to tremble slightly.
“This bracelet…” “You mean this?” Zhong Yun raised his left hand, displaying the bead chain.
Chen Wen interjected, “Did you just buy that? I haven’t seen you wear it before.” Zhong Yun replied casually, “A friend gave it to me.” This was the pretext he had prepared in advance, but he was surprised that this manager, surnamed Ou, seemed to have perceived the chain's uniqueness.
It caught him off guard; it seemed there were quite a few capable individuals among the Dawo people.
“Your friend is truly generous to be able to gift something of this caliber.” Ou Feng sighed.
He was, after all, no ordinary person; he quickly regained his composure.
That moment of astonishment was merely the instinctive reaction of an appraiser encountering something exceptional.
Now, he was back to being the shrewd and experienced manager.
Hearing Zhong Yun say it was a gift from a friend, Chen Wen’s mind instinctively leaped to Liu Yunqi.
“Don't stand out here in the hall; please come inside,” Ou Feng ushered the four inward, becoming even more solicitous toward Zhong Yun.
Ahead was a long corridor paved with a red carpet.
Along both sides of the corridor hung numerous paintings, all of which Ou Feng introduced as genuine masterpieces.
Yin Yin clung tightly to Chen Wen’s arm, her entire body pressed against him, as if afraid of getting lost if she let go for even a second.
She wasn't naive.
Seeing Chen Wen drive a luxury vehicle worth tens of millions earlier, she had immediately pegged him as a rich sugar daddy and seized the opportunity to strike up a conversation.
Upon entering the Mingzhu Tower’s exclusive VIP elevator, her heart secretly rejoiced, confirming she had hooked up with a super-wealthy mark.
She had heard whispers that the Mingzhu Tower possessed a nine-hundredth floor, accessible only to the ultra-rich.
She never imagined she would step foot there; it felt like a dream.
She recognized this as her chance to rise above her station and silently resolved to cling tightly to the super-rich daddy by her side.
Young, handsome, and wealthy—could there possibly be a better sugar daddy? P: Finally squeezed into the top fifteen spots.
Enough said—time to get writing.
Other than this, I genuinely don't know how else to repay your support and immense kindness.