At the charity gala at Xinghai City's Jingyue Hotel, the evening lights had just come on. Dazzling crystal chandeliers cast a gentle glow over the entire ballroom, lending it a dreamlike air, while lilting music filled the hall.
Quite a few prominent figures in the entertainment industry mingled in the ballroom, all dressed in lavish formalwear.
Wen Yanyu sat quietly in a corner with a glass of juice, his warm white sweater completely out of place.
People around him occasionally cast odd looks his way.
Unperturbed, Wen Yanyu loaded his plate with a slice of peach cake, a slice of chocolate cake, and a small dish of cloyingly salty, foul-tasting caviar to cut through the richness.
Yes.
He had been played.
A director he had worked with before had invited him to the gala, saying he did not need to prepare an outfit and that someone would have one ready when he arrived. They had worked together several times and trusted each other quite a bit.
Oh, no, that was wrong. He should have said the people on his side trusted the other party quite a bit. Only after arriving did he discover that no outfit had been prepared for him at all.
Wen Yanyu sighed. He usually slacked off so much that even his agency could not be bothered with him.
His staff were mostly inexperienced newcomers, and every one of them was panicking. There was no time to prepare anything, and he was already on the guest list. He could hardly leave right after arriving.
Wen Yanyu pondered what tomorrow's trending headlines would be if someone photographed him. "Shocking! Minor celebrity attends charity gala in casual clothes just to attract attention!" "Shocking! Minor celebrity's laid-back persona backfires spectacularly!"
But it looks like no one can take pictures here...