13. On the Thirteenth Day, I Never Thought...

It felt as if the mere imagination of the scene was enough to make one burst into laughter.

Si Nian couldn't help but chuckle, feeling quite satisfied with herself. After the audition, she hummed a tune all the way home, waiting for the results.

As soon as Jiang Yihan got off work, she asked how the commercial audition had gone. Si Nian explained that she hadn’t met many people; they had simply taken a lot of close-up photos and videos of her face. As Si Nian spoke, Jiang Yihan leaned in, peering closely at her and rubbing a finger against Si Nian’s cheek.

"What are you doing?" Si Nian asked.

Jiang Yihan checked her fingertip for any trace of powder. Seeing none, she looked at Si Nian—who was wearing a simple topknot—and asked with difficulty, "Did you wash your face after you got back, or did you actually go like that?"

Si Nian touched her cheek, puzzled by the question. "I went just like this."

"But didn't they say no makeup? That you should go bare-faced?"

Jiang Yihan’s eyebrows twitched. She pointed to a faint, lingering pimple mark on Si Nian’s cheek, left over from a breakout during her period a few days prior.

In their industry, magazine auditions sometimes requested a "natural" look, but it was rarely strictly enforced. Since many models were used to heavy makeup, a light touch was often considered "natural." Consequently, models usually applied a thin base layer to even out their skin tone or opted for a "no-makeup" makeup look.

In any case, absolutely no one showed up completely bare-faced; at the very least, they would apply a tinted moisturizer.

Hearing Jiang Yihan’s definition of "bare-faced," Si Nian’s scalp tightened. She quickly pulled out her cushion compact and opened the small mirror.

Before leaving that morning, she had seen the spot and the slight dark circles under her eyes, but she had dismissed them as minor, harmless flaws. After all, only mannequins had flawless skin. But now, after Jiang Yihan’s comment, those tiny imperfections seemed glaringly obvious.

It was common knowledge that high-definition cameras magnified every minor flaw a thousand times over. Si Nian realized once again that while her return to the industry seemed smooth, she had been away for five years, and she had lost touch with certain industry standards.

If everyone were on the same playing field, it would be fine. But she couldn't help but imagine the brand managers, surrounded by a pool of flawless models, looking at a candidate for a skincare commercial who showed up with pimple marks and dark circles.

"..." Jiang Yihan could only sigh in frustration. "I should have checked you before you left this morning."

Si Nian put down the mirror, feeling at a loss for what else she might be out of touch with, and slumped against the sofa. "Let's move on to the next one."

...

The Y-brand skincare commercial was likely a lost cause.

Though regretful, there was no medicine for regret, and she didn't want to leave her schedule empty. Si Nian quickly took on another job: a shoot for the next season's collection of "Wings," a trendy women's clothing brand known for its French-inspired, sweet-and-cool style.

The upside was that since the opening show of *Mini Glitz*, her popularity in the modeling circle had soared. She no longer had to run around to interviews for ordinary jobs; instead, brands lined up to pay her, and she was the one who got to pick and choose.

Wings was a mid-to-high-end brand. The owner had been very persistent in inviting her. While consumers often complained about the rising prices—a summer dress could cost over a thousand—the brand’s strength was that in an industry where everyone copied each other, they had no history of plagiarism, and their cuts were excellent.

During the shoot, Si Nian posted some behind-the-scenes photos on social media, using a digital pen to scribble over the new designs that were still under wraps. Fans in the comments section speculated wildly about what the project was.

Si Nian looked down at the outfit she was wearing—one of Wings' new designs. It was a red and black French-style autumn/winter two-piece set. There were many similar styles on the market, but few were tailored this precisely, and the fabric was substantial—unlike some brands she had worked for in the past, where the clothes were so poorly cut that the back had to be held together with binder clips.

Clothes, to a certain extent, were expensive for a reason.

Si Nian spent several busy days on the Wings shoot. Models were paid by the hour or the day, and generous models tried to help the brand get as much as possible in the limited time. The owner, a former fashion designer, stayed on set every day, clearly filled with satisfaction whenever a model wore the clothes well.

After the shoot, the owner personally called a car to take Si Nian home. He smiled and asked why she didn't sign with an agency or hire an assistant, eventually revealing his intention to sign her as the brand’s exclusive model.

Si Nian politely deflected, saying she disliked the constraints of agencies and wasn't busy enough yet to need an assistant. She turned down the exclusive contract. She had agreed to "Mohe" for the next season because she had needed the money then, but now that her livelihood was secure, she didn't want to tie down her future just yet. They could always work together again if the opportunity arose.

The owner looked slightly disappointed, but the rejection was expected; given her current momentum, her rates would only rise, and a long-term contract would be a bad deal for her. As Si Nian sat in the car heading home, she checked the comments on her post. Fans had already deduced from the background details that she was shooting for Wings.

She marveled at the internet's "Sherlock Holmes" level of deduction before her phone rang.

A gentle female voice on the other end introduced herself as being from the Y-brand’s domestic headquarters. Si Nian was stunned when the caller informed her that, after further consideration, the brand wanted her to come in on Wednesday for a formal commercial audition. Details would be sent via email.

Si Nian thought she had misheard. Remembering how she had shown up with pimple marks and dark circles, she couldn't help but ask, "Are you sure?"

"Why wouldn't we be?" The woman laughed, clearly surprised by her reaction. "Ms. Si, our global headquarters collectively decided that we would like you to participate in the formal audition."

"They loved the real, vibrant energy in your photos. This is the new concept our brand wants to convey with this young-adult line: beauty doesn't need to be polished; it is exactly who you are right now."

Si Nian listened, suddenly understanding why she hadn't been cut. Even with high-definition cameras magnifying every flaw, she hadn't been discarded. Because compared to a state of constant perfection, minor imperfections were more representative of real, everyday life.

But flaws did not mask the beauty of the object itself. On the contrary, like the armless Venus, perfection was not synonymous with completeness; sometimes, the incomplete was even greater.

Perhaps a photo that still showed flaws looked distinctively vivid to a brand that had grown weary of the flawless.

Si Nian gripped her phone tightly. "Okay, thank you."

...

When Jiang Yihan heard the news, she was equally surprised. She remarked that international brands truly had a higher level of vision than the nitpicky, gay editor-in-chief who insisted every pore on a model's face be Photoshopped.

In fact, she thought Si Nian’s occasional pimple was quite cute—it felt human, unlike the stars they sometimes worked with who lived behind eighteen layers of filters and required every photo to be vetted by a studio before release.

By the time Si Nian went in for the formal audition, the pimple mark had faded. She had made sure to get plenty of sleep, and her dark circles were barely visible.

The formal audition required some makeup, but Si Nian felt the artist apply only a thin layer of base, merely brushing through her eyebrows and leaving everything else natural. The shoot required her to hold the product. As she pressed the cool, glass bottle of cream against her cheek, her smile was natural and relaxed.

Every model in this round had to shoot sample photos for the brand to review. Given the nationwide reach of the campaign, the brand was being extremely cautious.

After the shoot, Si Nian headed home. It was late, and after stopping at a supermarket near her apartment for yogurt and fruit, she noticed a car parked on the roadside that seemed out of place.

As she walked by, trying to catch a glimpse of the license plate, the car door opened.

In black leather shoes and a sharp suit—the very picture of a corporate elite—was Zhao Chao.

Si Nian was stunned to see him. Zhao Chao, however, looked as if he had finally been waiting for her, and walked toward her with a polite smile.

"Ms. Si," Zhao Chao greeted her, bowing his head.

Si Nian instinctively glanced at the back seat of the Maybach. It was empty.

A faint sense of disappointment washed over her, which she quickly suppressed. She looked at Zhao Chao, knowing he was Lu Xuyan’s most capable assistant. Other than the occasional notification about when Lu Xuyan would be returning, they had never had much interaction.

"How did you know I lived here?" Si Nian asked, her guard up. "Did you come here specifically to wait for me? Did Lu Xuyan send you? What is this about?"

Zhao Chao, who had barely stood still, was taken aback by the barrage of questions. He had intended to make some small talk first, but seeing her bluntness, he decided to skip the pleasantries.

"Ms. Si, it’s like this," he said with a smile. "I am here specifically to convey a message from Mr. Lu. He has some matters he would like to discuss with you in person. He was hoping for a meeting. Would that be convenient for you?"

Si Nian froze.

Zhao Chao clasped his hands in front of him, maintaining a professional expression while waiting for her reply. He knew the request would likely be rejected. After all, they had broken up, and few women wanted to see their ex-boyfriends. Especially not after a check for nine hundred and ninety-nine million had been thrown into a paper shredder.

He didn't know what had happened that night between his boss and Si Nian to turn a generous man into someone so cold.

He braced himself for her refusal, but then he saw the woman who had been stunned into silence suddenly change her expression with remarkable speed.

"Convenient? Sure," Si Nian said, her brow relaxing. She even seemed to show a hint of eagerness, as if she were afraid he might run off. "When? Tonight? Right now?"