The collar of the dark red shirt stood crisply at the side of the neck, and the black vest cinched along the waistline, outlining the curve from the shoulders and back to the waist and abdomen.
The suit jacket was draped over his shoulders, unbuttoned, with a section of his wrist and a watch peeking out from the cuffs.
Her hair was pulled back, with only a few stray strands hanging down unruly above her brow bone.
He straightened his cufflinks one last time in front of the mirror, then pushed open the bathroom door and walked out.
Jiang Ye clicked his tongue twice, circled around Song Shi'an, and said, "Just put on some glasses and you can go straight to playing a CEO."
Song Shi'an slipped on the red-soled leather shoes, stomped his heels a couple of times, and casually remarked, "You know what, I've never played a domineering CEO, but I did play a twisted psychopath, and he dressed like this."
Chi Xun away his phone, which was taking pictures, and retorted righteously, "That's different. I've seen that leaked photo; the two are worlds apart. Old Pei has excellent taste; he gave that red shirt to a top-tier model."
"Stop talking nonsense and let's go." Jiang Ye glanced at the time, grabbed his coat from the back of the chair, and draped it over his shoulders. "It's already past four o'clock. The birthday banquet starts at six. Old Pei has sent someone to pick us up."
The three of them came out of the dormitory building, walked through the corridor towards the school gate, with Song Shi'an walking at the very back, fiddling with his phone as he walked.
The pockets of his suit trousers were a bit shallow; it was uncomfortable to put his phone in, and it wasn't convenient to take it out. He fiddled with it in the pocket for a while, then finally just shoved the phone into his trouser pocket, put one hand at his side, and started walking to catch up with the two people in front of him.
The red-soled leather shoes clicked crisply on the corridor floor tiles.
The collar of his dark red shirt peeked out from between the collars of his black suit jacket. As he walked from the end of the corridor, the evening sunlight streamed in through the side window, casting a thin layer of gold on his shoulder line.
Several students passing by instinctively moved aside to the wall, then turned around in unison, only managing to raise their phones to snap a blurry profile picture.
A new post quickly appeared on D Station, accompanied by a blurry photo.
In the picture, a figure in a black suit is striding down the corridor, one hand in his pocket, his red-soled leather shoes just lifted as he takes a step. The sunlight outlines his clean and sharp features, but because he is walking too fast, his face is blurred in the photo.
The comment section exploded instantly.
"Could you please practice your lightning-fast photography skills?"
"Is this what they call 'atmosphere'? I can't even see his face clearly, but I still think he's so handsome."
"Great, I have material for the novel. Let's get started."
"I've said it a million times, don't send me any more notifications unless my score drops!"
"Do all students at Jingchen University dress like this? I don't believe it unless I see it for myself."
"You guys are exaggerating a bit... to get this worked up over just a profile shot..."
"Artists are in luck! This proportion is perfect, nine heads tall! Can I use it as a reference for my drawing?"
After driving for quite some time, from the city center to the suburbs, the scenery outside the window changed to endless lawns and forests.
Song Shi'an leaned against the car window, looking at the increasingly sparse buildings along the roadside, and thought to himself that no matter how rich Pei Zhiyan's family was, they only owned a villa, at most a size larger than his own.
Then the car turned a corner and he saw the gate of the manor.
Two ornate iron gates slowly opened to the sides, appearing to be at least six meters high.
Song Shi'an remained silent for a long while. What happened to the promise that even domineering CEOs now live in large apartments? What happened to the villas?
What's with this estate priced by the acre? Only he believed it. No wonder the female protagonists in those old-fashioned domineering CEO novels could never escape...
Jiang Ye, sitting beside Song Shi'an, calmly said, "Don't be shocked, this is nothing."
Actually, when he first came here, he was even more exaggerated than Song Shi'an, like Grandma Liu visiting the Grand View Garden.
The manor gates were wide open, and luxury cars drove in one after another, each with an unfamiliar logo; some he had never even seen before.
Looking out the window at the sports cars with chassis so low they almost touched the ground and the sedans with bodies that looked like yachts, Song Shi'an could only think that he had mistakenly wandered into the Heavenly Palace.
After parking the car, the three of them got out. The entrance to the manor was paved with dark gray stone slabs, and the air was filled with a faint scent of champagne and cedar mixed together.
Waiters in formal attire moved among the crowd carrying trays laden with slender champagne glasses and a variety of desserts.
Many guests walked past them arm in arm with their female or male companions. The men were all dressed in dark formal attire, while the women's gowns brushed against the cobblestone pavement, and their jewelry sparkled under the lights.
Jiang Ye nudged Song Shi'an with his elbow and winked at him. "How about I be your date?"
"Go to hell..." Song Shi'an withdrew his arm expressionlessly and strode straight towards the banquet hall.
As he walked, he looked up at the high dome and the three-tiered crystal chandelier hanging down. The light refracted through the cut crystal, creating countless tiny spots of light. The walls on both sides of the corridor were covered with oil paintings he couldn't understand, and a half-person-high blue and white porcelain vase stood at the corner.
He glanced at the vase; although he knew nothing about antiques, his intuition told him that it was probably worth more than he could sell the pieces separately...
Several sparkling things were inlaid on the decorative moldings on the wall next to him. He stared at them for a while. Were they real or fake? He figured if he took one, no one would know...
Many people immediately noticed Song Shi'an, who stood out wherever he went.
His dark red shirt stood out against the sea of black, white, and gray tuxedos. His black suit jacket was open, one hand was in his pocket, and he walked with his shoulders and back ramrod straight. Someone recognized him immediately and whispered a few words to the person next to him while holding a wine glass.
Isn't Song Shi'an supposed to be backed by the Stars Entertainment? What brings him to the Pei family's banquet this time? Was he brought by Eldest Miss Shen?
Ignoring the probing gazes, Song Shi'an immediately spotted Pei Zhiyan chatting animatedly with those around him in the center of the hall.
Today he was wearing a dark gray suit, holding a champagne glass, standing among a group of middle-aged entrepreneurs, his expression a perfect balance of politeness and aloofness.
Their eyes met across the crowd. Song Shi'an nodded to him, and Pei Zhiyan nodded slightly in response before turning back to continue talking to the person in front of him.
To put it bluntly, this birthday party is, to put it nicely, a birthday celebration; to put it bluntly, it's a large-scale business social gathering.
Pei Zhiyan will probably have to deal with everything from beginning to end tonight, and won't even get a hot meal.
Song Shi'an walked to the corner where the gifts were piled up and handed the gift box in his hand to the staff member in charge of registration.
The staff asked for his name, wrote it down in the register, and placed the gift box on the cart next to him.
The cart was piled high with gift boxes, each one more exquisitely packaged than the last.
As soon as he finished registering, Song Shi'an started looking for food. He had slept until the afternoon specifically for this dinner, skipping breakfast and lunch, and was now starving.