Chapter Twenty-Six: Cinderella and Her Glass Slipper

Su Yuxi tugged Xu Qinning by the arm, leading her downstairs. “You’d better hurry to Fudan and get ready. Don’t stay here and make things more chaotic.”

Xu Qinning was a little stunned. “Is it really such a coincidence? Yuxi, you have to stand up for me—you saw how outrageous your brother was yesterday.” As she spoke, she clung to Su Yuxi’s arm, putting on a coquettish act.

Su Yuxi pushed Xu Qinning out of the corridor. “I’ll come over after class. But when you get there, don’t say you know me. Deal with him however you want, just don’t drag me into it.”

“But he’s your brother! How can you be so heartless?” Xu Qinning’s expression changed as quickly as a June sky. Still laughing, she teased, “Gosh, Su Yuxi, who knew you’d look so sweet but be so ruthless! What, don’t like your brother? Afraid he’ll split the inheritance with you?”

Su Yuxi retorted impatiently, “You think everyone’s family is like yours? Go on, I have class.”

Xu Qinning stuck out her tongue and waved. “See you later then.” With that, she headed toward Fudan University.

Su Yuxi watched Xu Qinning’s graceful figure disappear down the road and smiled before returning to class. Though Xu Qinning was a little taller and seemed a bit more mature than her, it had always been Su Yuxi taking care of Xu Qinning since they were young. Though they were best friends, they were more like sisters. No one understood better than Su Yuxi that beneath that tough, cold, fiery temper was a heart so tender and cautious.

In his previous life, Cheng Xiaoyu had his own sense of fashion, his taste so refined it even stunned other girls. Whenever they went out, his friends would introduce him as a “senior stylist.” As a result, girls liked to have him accompany them shopping. Of course, he wasn’t the type to go along with everyone—he was quite picky himself.

Cheng Xiaoyu first found an optical shop. He needed to get contact lenses for Xia Shamo. He texted her to ask for her prescription, then picked out a pair of dark brown half-year contacts, bought two bottles of solution, and continued shopping with the bag in hand.

Most of the Western designer brands from his previous life existed here as well, but this world also had many more well-established Chinese luxury brands. Cheng Xiaoyu hadn’t yet formed a complete image for Xia Shamo. It wasn’t just about wearing beautiful clothes—what mattered was whether it suited the person. Some people were born to wear clothes; even cheap outfits looked like high fashion on them. Others were the opposite—even the finest brands looked like flea-market finds. That’s not to say that quality and design didn’t matter. On the contrary, when the right luxury piece is worn well, it can elevate an entire aura by several degrees. That’s why people say looks are only a third, while style is the other seven-tenths. Of course, you can’t compare with those rare, naturally stunning beauties who transcend all standards.

Cheng Xiaoyu wandered aimlessly through the mall until he spotted a pair of pointed crystal heels in an OO store window, sparkling like a constellation. The shoes and heels were encrusted with tiny crystals, a delicate crystal bow at the toe radiating dazzling light from the display.

Cheng Xiaoyu was the type who, once he liked something, didn’t hesitate. He strode straight into the OO store. Because he was a boy in a school uniform, none of the staff paid him any attention. Unbothered, Cheng Xiaoyu grabbed four or five pairs, plopped them on the counter, and declared, “Wrap them all up for me.”

A young woman behind the counter, busy on her phone, looked up at the sound. Seeing a teenager in a school uniform, her expression soured. “These are women’s high heels, and they’re very expensive. Did you check the price?”

She clearly assumed he was here to fool around.

Cheng Xiaoyu couldn’t be bothered to argue. “I’m really buying shoes. No one would help me.”

The saleswoman, both amused and annoyed, said, “We only sell women’s heels here. If you want shoes, go to the fifth floor—there are sneakers from N and N there. Don’t mess around here.”

“I’m here for the heels. Didn’t you hear me? I said wrap them all.” Cheng Xiaoyu looked at her, bewildered.

The saleswoman was stunned. It was the first time she’d seen a high school boy come to OO for high heels—and buying four or five pairs at that. She wondered if she should call security.

The commotion caught the attention of the store manager, who strode over in a tailored black suit. “What’s going on, Xiao Fang?”

The saleswoman replied awkwardly, “Just a kid playing around.”

Cheng Xiaoyu smiled at the manager. “I want to buy shoes, but she doesn’t believe me.”

The manager immediately bowed. “My apologies, sir. We failed to provide proper service.” She walked to the counter. “So, you want all of these?”

Cheng Xiaoyu shook his head. “No.”

The saleswoman immediately said, “See, manager? I told you he was just messing around.”

The manager quickly turned to her. “Leave this customer to me. Go check over there.” The saleswoman grumbled but obeyed. The manager then said to Cheng Xiaoyu, “I’m very sorry, sir. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Cheng Xiaoyu pointed to the crystal shoes in the window. “I want those in size 38.”

The manager smiled. “Excellent taste, sir. This model is called nrasppr, made in Italy, with genuine leather uppers, soles, and insoles, adorned with 7,000 crystals and 46 diamonds. The heel is 4.3 inches high and it’s a global limited edition—only five pairs in all of China, one in each size. I’m not sure if we still have a 38. Please wait a moment while I check.”

Cheng Xiaoyu nodded. “Thank you, please check.”

The manager checked the inventory on the computer and returned. “We do have a 38, but it’s currently on display at our Henglong Plaza store. If you need it, I’ll call to have it transferred, but it may take a while.”

Cheng Xiaoyu said, “That’s fine. Please have it sent over, I’ll take it.”

The manager instructed Xiao Fang to call for the transfer, then returned to Cheng Xiaoyu. “Is there anything else you need?”

Cheng Xiaoyu glanced around. “No, I’ll browse elsewhere. Let’s settle the bill for the shoes first.”

The manager smiled. “No rush. Just leave your number. I’ll call as soon as the shoes arrive.”

Cheng Xiaoyu replied, “Thank you.” He left his number and walked out to continue shopping.

After he left, Xiao Fang hurried over. “Manager, why didn’t you make him pay before he left? The shoes cost over fifty thousand. If we can’t sell them after transferring, we’ll get in trouble!”

The manager shook her head with a smile. “You still have a lot to learn about reading people.” She didn’t mention that she’d seen the Chopin appaons209200-1001 watch on the boy’s wrist. Though Chopin watches aren’t widely known and aren’t particularly expensive, this particular model costs over a million. Nouveau riche don’t buy watches like that—they lack the taste. Only true old families buy them as accessories, not for showing off.

Cheng Xiaoyu didn’t realize the manager had noticed the keepsake his mother left him. She had told him, as she put it on his wrist, that one day he should give it to the girl he wanted to marry, because he’d be giving her all the time in his life—and nothing in the world is more precious than time. Cheng Xiaoyu never minded that it was a women’s watch, or cared about its price. To him it was a memory, a piece of the past.

He wandered the mall a while longer, buying some high-end foundations, powders, eyeliners, false eyelashes, and other cosmetics he’d found useful in his previous life, as well as a few outfits he thought suitable. When the OO manager called, he went to pay for the shoes, then left under the astonished gaze of the shop assistants, heading back to the Japanese salon where Xia Shamo was getting her hair done.

He approached Xia Shamo as her hair was being blow-dried. From behind, her dark hair now cascaded like a waterfall. He set the bag with the contact lenses in front of her. “Contacts. Put them on after your hair is dry.” As he turned to leave, he asked, “Do you know how to put them in?” Xia Shamo answered, “Yes.” Cheng Xiaoyu went out to wait on the sofa.

Xia Shamo had worn contacts before, but found them too expensive to replace regularly.

When she came out with dry hair and contacts in, Cheng Xiaoyu found himself stunned. Gone were the unreadable bangs, messy curls, and ugly glasses—Xia Shamo was completely transformed. Even the Japanese stylist was amazed, regretting not snapping a “before” photo for promotion. Xia Shamo was still a little shy, clearly unused to being so beautiful; the admiring looks made her uncomfortable.

Cheng Xiaoyu signed the bill and left. The staff lined up to bow them out—the money from this one session would cover the salon’s expenses for a month.

He checked his phone—it was already five o’clock. The gala started at seven; they were short on time.

In a rush, Cheng Xiaoyu took Xia Shamo to try on the outfits he’d picked. She edged closer to him, letting his broad frame shield her from the stares. “I’m a little scared,” she whispered. “So many people are looking at me. Their stares are too intense.” Cheng Xiaoyu smiled with satisfaction; now, Xia Shamo was like a polished diamond, her beauty radiant.

He couldn’t help but chuckle. Xia Shamo blushed and asked, “Why are you laughing at me?”

“Nothing. I’m just happy—I’m lucky enough to find a treasure just like that.”

“What treasure?” Xia Shamo asked curiously, having no idea what he meant.

“Go look in the mirror yourself!” Cheng Xiaoyu nudged her playfully.

“Hey, Cheng Xiaoyu! You’re making fun of me!” Xia Shamo protested.

It was the first time he’d seen her angry, and he smiled. “Thank you, SR. Without you, I’d never be able to complete this music.”

Xia Shamo shook her head, blushing. “It’s me who should thank you, for giving me the chance to sing such a song.”

At that moment, the phone rang. Teacher Ji Xin called, anxious that her two precious performers still hadn’t arrived at the Fudan auditorium. Cheng Xiaoyu answered, “We’re on our way,” and hurried Xia Shamo into the fitting room.

They tried several outfits—not that any weren’t beautiful, but it was hard to find one that suited both songs’ contrasting styles. Formal gowns seemed too grand, cocktail dresses not dazzling enough, and casual wear was too plain—none matched the image Cheng Xiaoyu wanted, even though Xia Shamo’s beauty now outshone all others. He wanted everything about her entrance to be flawless and breathtaking.

Then, as they passed a boutique selling handmade qipaos, Cheng Xiaoyu called Xia Shamo in. His eyes immediately landed on a pearl-white qipao with red-and-black dragon embroidery, a long hem, and a high slit adorned with lace, sequins, and pearls.

He asked a shop assistant, “Can we try this one?”

The assistant, dressed in a blue-and-white porcelain-print qipao, smiled apologetically. “Sorry, that one’s not for sale.”

“Everything has a price,” Cheng Xiaoyu replied. “You wouldn’t display it if you weren’t willing to sell, right?”

The assistant hesitated. “That’s a masterwork by Huang Xiuhua. It’s extremely expensive.”

Cheng Xiaoyu smiled, setting down the OO bag. “OO’s crystal shoes—only five pairs in the country. Don’t talk to me about expensive. If it isn’t, I wouldn’t even want it.”

The assistant said, “Please wait.”

Xia Shamo fidgeted nervously. “How much do you think it’ll cost?”

Cheng Xiaoyu grinned. “Doesn’t matter. You can give it back after, just think of it as borrowed.” Xia Shamo was left speechless.

As the assistant went to make a call, Cheng Xiaoyu simply took the qipao off the mannequin and handed it to Xia Shamo to try.

She didn’t hesitate, took the dress, and went inside. When she emerged, both the assistant and Cheng Xiaoyu were stunned—the qipao fit as if it were made for her, every curve perfect, the cut-out at the chest revealing just enough fair skin to dazzle the eyes. Even a group of foreign shoppers nearby were so amazed they asked to take photos with her.

Cheng Xiaoyu told the assistant, “She’s already tried it—you have to sell it now.”

The assistant grew flustered. “Sir, it’s not up to me. Our boss is on her way. Please speak with her.”

Cheng Xiaoyu pleaded, “Miss, I’m really in a hurry. The show starts soon. Name your price, I’ll pay right now.”

Helpless, the assistant called her boss again.

Cheng Xiaoyu couldn’t just take the dress and run, so while waiting, he picked out a fox-fur stole, a pair of violet mesh gloves, and a pair of white thigh-high stockings for Xia Shamo. Just then, the owner arrived.

She was a graceful woman of nearly fifty, dressed in a black qipao with a wool coat over it, her hair pinned up with a jade hairpin.

Cheng Xiaoyu rushed over, flashing his most charming smile. “Auntie, please sell me this qipao. Name your price—I’ll pay whatever you ask.”

She glanced at him, unimpressed by his nouveau riche attitude, and answered, “Not for sale. No matter the price. Please leave.”

Cheng Xiaoyu smiled bitterly, following her. “Auntie, help me out. This is the only dress in the whole city that suits my girl. You won’t find a more beautiful qipao or a girl who wears it better.”

She went behind the counter. “You’re just a student—what do you know about beauty? Selling this to you would be a waste. Don’t waste my time, go.”

Cheng Xiaoyu was at a loss. The performance was about to start; if they didn’t leave soon, they’d be late. At that moment, Xia Shamo stepped out, a vision in white stockings, gloves, and the stole.

The woman adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses and examined Xia Shamo from head to toe, circling her. “Such a beautiful girl. How old are you?”

“Seventeen,” Xia Shamo replied, blushing.

Cheng Xiaoyu stepped over with a fawning smile. “Auntie, what do you think? Can I pay now?”

She ignored him but smiled at Xia Shamo. “A lovely girl like you shouldn’t be with this chubby guy.”

Xia Shamo blushed. “Auntie, we’re classmates, you misunderstood. He’s actually a good person.”

Cheng Xiaoyu added, “Auntie, really, you’re overthinking. We’re performing at the school gala tonight. If we don’t leave now, I’ll have to steal it.”

The woman turned to him and smiled. “Not for sale.”

Cheng Xiaoyu pulled a long face and told Xia Shamo to change.

But the woman stopped her. “Not selling to him, but I’ll give it to you. Leave your number for me—you can come by and model for some photos when you have time.”

Xia Shamo glanced at Cheng Xiaoyu, who urged her to agree, so she nodded.

After leaving her number, Cheng Xiaoyu paid for the stockings, gloves, and stole, gathered up all their purchases, and hurried out with Xia Shamo. The performance would start in just over ten minutes.

Thankfully, their act was scheduled later in the program.