After listing almost fifty conditions—yes, I counted—Jiang finally insists we meet Shen Yuze.
Insists.
Like puppy-eyes, straight back, hands politely folded, antenna glowing faintly kind of insist.
So now… here we are.
Standing in front of Corum Fashion Industry's main branch.
The building is all glass and steel, stupidly tall, reflecting the sky like it owns it. People in sharp suits walk in and out like they were born confident. Automatic doors slide open and shut with soft whoosh sounds, judging us silently.
I cross my arms and tilt my head back to look up. My neck already hurts.
"…Wow," I mutter. "This place screams money."
Jiang stands beside me, tall as ever, hands in his coat pockets, posture calm—but I can feel the energy buzzing off him. Not scared. Excited. Determined.
Too determined.
I glance at him. "You sure about this?"
He looks down at me and nods. No hesitation. Eyes clear. Steady.
"Yes."
I exhale slowly.
