Chapter Thirty: My Woman

The woman known as Ms. Han fell silent for a while. As her teacher, she knew more or less about Yuan Xiangdie’s situation. In a family like that, no matter how many achievements one had, they would always be buried.

Yet, looking at such a promising talent, Chen Jing, now semi-retired from design herself, was unwilling to see her potential wasted. She pondered for a long while on how she could help Yuan Xiangdie, but realized she would have to experiment to find the answer.

“Child, in this field of design, hard work is important, but talent is even more so. If you lack talent in this area, no matter how hard you try, it will be of no use.”

Yuan Xiangdie didn’t understand why she was always told this. Was her talent not obvious enough?

Clearly, Ms. Han meant something else. Yuan Xiangdie stayed quietly by her side without speaking further, instead pulling out the designs she had stored on her phone.

“Could you please take a look at these? I came up with this series suddenly some time ago.”

Yuan Xiangdie was quite confident in this collection. It marked the moment she had just gained her own freedom. In that instant, the concept had come to her mind.

Han Xiao had once been quite renowned in the design world, but then, for reasons unknown, suffered a string of setbacks. One time, while promoting for the Wansheng Group, their quarterly percentage dropped by six percent; another time, she designed for a prestigious lingerie brand but used a garish pink fabric. These two disastrous events forced Han Xiao out of the industry.

“Child, I have never doubted your talent for design. But do you still trust me?”

Trust my judgment. Trust everything I do.

Yuan Xiangdie didn’t say a word, only nodded with conviction. She grasped Han Xiao’s slender hand. Once, her teacher had been a rising star herself—five years ago, she had held a position of respect and exuded a vibrant aura in the design community.

“Teacher, we all have to walk the same path again. If you’re unwilling, then let me walk it for you. I’m sure there were reasons for what happened back then. Even I wouldn’t have chosen that tacky pink fabric.”

Let alone you. Yuan Xiangdie was convinced there was an untold story.

Without another word, Han Xiao picked up her phone. She opened the images and zoomed in on each one in detail. Though the designs leaned toward extravagant street fashion—difficult for the average person to pull off—they were more than sufficient for a runway show.

“I named this collection ‘Rebirth.’”

Time slipped away relentlessly, not leaving a moment’s respite.

At this moment, Yuan Yao’er cared about none of these things. Her mind was preoccupied with only one thought—she wanted to further her studies at Lavis. It wasn’t some world-famous school, but it had one unique requirement: entry relied solely on one’s own ability. Without the support of fifty percent of the faculty, gaining admission was impossible.

“Mom, I want to go. Didn’t you say before that I’d definitely make it? You’ve already made all the arrangements, so why can’t I go now?”

For the always proud and arrogant Yuan Yao’er, this was infuriating. Lavis was a cradle for great designers—a professional fashion design training school of high standing in the country.

But in fact, this design academy held a reputation on par with Harvard abroad, though it rarely advertised itself.

Zhang Xi was on the verge of turning gray with worry just over this matter. Suddenly, William declared that Lan Feng was unwelcome at the upcoming show.

Years of hard work building the brand, only to be dismissed in an instant.

Naturally, Lavis needed to review Yuan Yao’er’s design work once more.

Zhang Xi hadn’t been anxious at first; she still had several of Yuan Xiangdie’s old sketches in her possession, some of which had even been smuggled out of prison for her.

But now the situation had changed. William was never one to interfere unnecessarily, so why had he abruptly refused to collaborate with Lan Feng this time?

Baffled, mother and daughter sat on the sofa—one fuming, the other frowning, both looking as if nothing good could come of it.

“What on earth is going on, Mom? Tell me! I already bragged to everyone that if I didn’t get in, I’d hand over the brand to them.”

Lavis’s admissions process was always open and incredibly transparent. Their official accounts announced daily updates—today’s promoted candidate, tomorrow’s direct admission.

But her name had never appeared. Yuan Yao’er was getting desperate.

“Darling, don’t be so anxious. You still have a chance. But you must listen to me now and stop being willful, or you’ll truly become a laughingstock.”

Only at times like this did Yuan Yao’er listen. Zhang Xi sighed in relief. “From now on, you’re not allowed to go out socializing. You must stay home, and I’ll hire you an art teacher.”

It was like a bolt from the blue—why hire a teacher, why learn to draw?

She’d always disliked such things, and just seeing those mismatched lines gave her a headache.

She was about to protest, but was cut off.

“If you want people to believe these sketches are yours, you must at least know how to draw. Otherwise, no one will buy it.”

To enter Lavis, you could submit drawings online, but there was a fundamental skill test at the door—something only those who’d already entered the academy knew.

They’d even bribed someone inside to get this information.

At the start, you had to demonstrate your drawing fundamentals. At that stage, you were just an illustrator.

“Trust me, once you get into school, there will be other assessments where you’ll need to master layered sketching. In other words, drawing skills—do you understand?”

Zhang Xi was truly worried that if Yuan Yao’er threw a tantrum at this point, she’d leave a terrible impression on the judges.

“What’s so hard about drawing? I just have to memorize everything they say, and if I can’t recall, I’ll just add something of my own. Isn’t that enough?”

Proud as a peacock, but pride couldn’t substitute for time, practice, or talent.

“I’m serious. I’m staking Lan Feng and our entire fortune on you. I believe my daughter will not fail.”

Zhang Xi spoke these words on purpose, hoping to provoke Yuan Yao’er, but who would have thought this girl responded only to gentleness, not force.

“Who said so? I already know there are several others like me in the village. If it’s not me, there are others.”

How did she find that out? Though none understood fully, everyone kept quiet.

“To enter the academy, you must pass the basic test. Money alone won’t get you in. It’s said that if you graduate from there, your career will thrive for 365 years.”

Yet, with a hint of disdain, Yuan Yao’er already knew of a graduate who struggled to keep her job, let alone work with them.

“So what? Look at my status—do I really need those things? And have you forgotten who I am?”

Yuan Lan, acting spoiled, clung to Zhang Xi’s hand, pressing herself against her mother’s back, looking just like a child being carried.

Zhang Xi could only show helplessness—she truly had no way to handle her. If she had even a sliver of control, things wouldn’t have come to this.

“I knew you wouldn’t let me down. When that incident happened, I secretly tried to find out more, but your sketches had all disappeared—only to turn up later as someone else’s brand.”

Han Xiao had finally revealed the truth—some of the documents still existed on her phone.

She didn’t fully understand the files, but she did know this: They held evidence of how the mother-daughter pair had seized the company, driven her out, stolen her sketches, and then registered and sold them as their own.

She sent the entire file package face-to-face. Yuan Xiangdie, from the very beginning, had never wanted to get involved in these intrigues. “These documents are in your favor. If you ever get the chance to set things right, keep them—they’ll be of great help.”

The two of them discussed the finer points of the “Rebirth” collection under the old locust tree for a long time.

Before leaving, Ms. Han took out her favorite bracelet and insisted on putting it on Yuan Xiangdie’s wrist. Despite repeated refusals, she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Child, take it. I deeply sympathize with what you’ve been through and regret that I couldn’t help you sooner. You must grow up well—grow strong enough to protect yourself. Never rely on others for your protection again.”

She looked particularly lonely now. Yuan Xiangdie didn’t know how to comfort her—her words clumsy, her mind suddenly blank.

“Teacher, I will.”

Only after Han Xiao disappeared into the corridor did Yuan Xiangdie remember to call after her. It was then that she noticed the large characters written on the wall opposite, and, recalling her memories, realized this was actually a nursing home.

“Teacher…”

Julie was truly anxious now. After burning the midnight oil to finish her designs, she rushed to find the handicraft workshop she’d worked with before.

“Oh my god, Miss Li, come and help!”