CHAPTER 222: CHAPTER 58: DESTINED FRIENDSHIP (PART 2)

"Sister Mu?" What surprised Su Ziceng most was that poster. It was still Sister Mu in black and white, with her perfect proportions, her legs still intact, her gaze still sharp, no longer the dreamy and drunk Zimu holding a wine glass.

"You know her too?" Lin Ying’s tone no longer held the cold indifference of their first meeting; anyone who appreciated "New" as much as she did was a good friend of Lin Ying’s.

"I know her," the Sister Mu that Su Ziceng knew seemed more like a black cat hiding in the corner, absorbing the dark aura, rather than the black panther who confidently strutted on the runway.

"Like me, we all know her, but she doesn’t know us," Lin Ying had completely lost her previously indifferent artist’s air. She seemed like a loyal fan, cheering for her idol who had disappeared from the public eye.

It never occurred to Su Ziceng that her knowledge of Sister Mu came through the words of others.

In this basement, decorated by Lin Ying to feel like a cozy home, it was filled with various materials related to New. From her first time on stage, stumbling over her high heels, through the news, to eloping with a poor and struggling designer out of love. That New, surrounded by countless halos, wild and unrestrained like a shooting star, after burning out her flame on stages in Paris and around the world, departed in haste. At fourteen, she ventured into Europe alone, was personally selected by the chief designer of YSL, and after achieving fame and success, she resolutely abandoned the European runways to head to North America, all for the man who could sculpt the love she sought.

"What happened to New’s leg?" Su Ziceng looked at the color spread, featuring Sister Mu with slender eyes that suited both light and heavy makeup.

"I heard New came from a wealthy Eastern family; she was brought up strictly. Before fame, her family didn’t support her, and after fame, they still tried to interfere with her and her lover’s romance. While avoiding her family’s pursuit, she and her fiancé were in a car accident, and then the runway saw no more of her." Lin Ying recounted the painful past, her mood briefly sinking before she bounced back, pulling out a meticulously cared-for storage box from beside the sofa, it contained a large number of photos of New’s fashion.

The last photo took Su Ziceng by surprise; it showed her wearing "Angel’s Broken Wings," looking at the self ensconced within the flames of the dress, she found herself at a loss for words.

"You know why I brought you back here, it’s because you resemble the model in the photo," Lin Ying had gone through many methods, finally gathering all the pictures of New’s designed outfits that were available on the market.

Su Ziceng couldn’t help but laugh quietly to herself, she did not clarify that the confident woman was standing right in front of Lin Ying, just as she wouldn’t tell Lin Ying that the New who captivated her now held a wine glass every day, sitting in the dark, sighing over the passing of youth.

"What I envy about New the most is that she never gives up in the face of failure," Lin Ying said, then she gathered up all the materials.

"She never gave up," even with an iron leg brace, Sister Mu could still produce the most exquisite design sketches, even while sitting on her knees, "Tell me about yourself, why did you come to Paris."

"I want to be a model," Lin Ying admitted. She didn’t have New’s sharp fashion sense nor exceptional design talent; what she wanted was just to stand on the runway, exuding her unique charm.

Lin Ying wasn’t beautiful, but like Sister Mu, she had a quality that drew people’s attention. That face not delicate enough in the eyes of Eastern people stood out to Westerners.

At first glance, Su Ziceng didn’t notice anything special, but under the light, she saw Lin Ying’s difference.

Lin Ying had expressive eyes, and Eastern and Western people had different habits of seeing others. When Lin Ying conversed or sang, her eyes were probing, making contact with others.

So regardless of beauty, just those eyes and her tall figure left a distinctive impression on people.

"Do you want to be a model because you like the attention?" asked Su Ziceng, who, like Lin Ying, chose to sit on the colorful patchwork carpet. Both had taken off their coats, sipping freshly brewed milk tea, enjoying the quiet night that only a basement could provide.

"Partly. But I prefer to define modeling as showing the rich lifestyle to the poor." This was where Lin Ying differed from her idol New.

New on the runway was always an adulated queen, regal and untouchable, while Lin Ying would rather be an approachable presenter. She believed that the true essence of fashion, besides creating beauty, should also bring a sense of happiness to the soul.

"Happiness?" Su Ziceng savored the word. The word felt so foreign.

She sat up, looking at the milky white, overly sweet milk tea, then at the stale French bread on the low coffee table, which no matter how she tried, she couldn’t taste the deliciousness.

Nothing here matched Su Ziceng’s past life; there were no comfortable high-end blankets or food so delicious that one could swallow their tongue along with it. But in this tiny basement, Su Ziceng could smell that scent. The sense of happiness that Lin Ying spoke of.

She never expected that her progress evaluation would come with such a sudden revelation.

"I know what I came to Paris for now," Su Ziceng retracted her previous answer, stating seriously: "I came here in search of happiness."

A single plane ride, a change of place, Su Ziceng closed her eyes, her mind filled with the premonition that when she opened them the next day, she would encounter happiness. (To be continued. If you enjoy this work, welcome to Qidian (qidian.com) to cast your recommendation and monthly tickets, your support is my greatest motivation.)