As Mo Fei walked off the red carpet, another figure stepped onto it.
For a brief second, the reporters and photographers were still busy throwing glances in Mo Fei's direction, unwilling to miss even one final angle of him.
Then a fan's scream tore through the air.
"Ahhhh! It's Sima Li!"
The entire red carpet shifted.
Reporters turned.
Photographers snapped toward the new arrival.
Fans surged against the barriers, their screams rising into a wave of pure chaos.
Sima Li stood beneath the lights, dressed in dark trousers and a white shirt tucked in neatly at his waist. A large black coat hung from his shoulders, giving him an effortlessly dramatic silhouette.
Dark shades covered his eyes, and his hair, tinted green, caught the light in a way that made him look reckless, expensive, and completely aware of his own effect.
The crowd lost its mind.
"Oh my God, gege!"
"Sima Li is here!"
"I thought he wasn't coming when I didn't see him with Yichen!"
"Sima Li, here! Turn here!"
"More poses, Sima Li!"
"Look over here!"
"Gege, we love you!"
"Sima Li, your hair!"
"Ahhh, he looks so good!"
Sima Li slowly took off his glasses a shameless grin spread across his face.
Then, with absolutely no sense of restraint, he blew kisses toward the fans and cameras.
The fans screamed louder.
He waved, laughing, and then, instead of staying in place for the photographers, crossed the red carpet toward the barrier.
A fan standing near the front was already close to tears. Sima Li approached her, gently took the paper board she was holding, and pulled a pen from his pocket.
The girl froze.
Then he signed it.
The moment he handed it back to her, she burst into tears.
Sima Li, clearly pleased with himself, kissed the paper board and left a smug lipstick mark on it.
The reaction was immediate. The fans exploded.
"We love you, gege!"
"Gege, sign here too!"
"Sima Li is the best!"
"Ahhh, I'm going to faint!"
"He kissed it! He kissed it!"
"Security, I need emotional support!"
"Gege, marry the stage!"
"Sima Li, look at me once and I'll pass away happily!"
"His fan service is illegal!"
"This man knows exactly what he's doing!"
Sima Li laughed and walked back to the red carpet. He still had not taken enough dazzling photos yet. This new look could not go unnoticed.
Absolutely not.
"Sima Li, yes, that's it!"
"A little more!"
"More razzle!"
"Turn this way!"
"Perfect!"
"Give us one more smile!"
Sima Li posed with professional ease, giving the cameras every good angle as if he had personally trained under vanity itself. Then he looked over and saw Mo Fei.
His eyes lit up at once. "Feifei!" Sima Li waved, then abandoning every thought of the red carpet, he ran off.
The reporters froze, photographers paused.
The fans stared. Even the editors watching from the side blinked in confusion.
What was he doing now?
Who walked away from a red carpet in the middle of posing?
Then again, this was Sima Li.
Of course he was up to something. No one was truly surprised. They simply waited.
Mo Fei heard his name and turned.
"Oh, Sima Li."
He had not seen Sima Li in a while. Truthfully, he had thought of him once or twice, wondering what the superstar singer had been busy with.
Sima Li reached him and grabbed him by the shoulders.
"It's been a while," he said brightly. "You're here too!"
Mo Fei smiled and nodded.
"Come, come."
Before Mo Fei could ask anything, Sima Li dragged him along.
Eh?
Where were they going?
Mo Fei barely had time to think before Sima Li pulled him back onto the red carpet.
When they stopped beneath the lights, Mo Fei stood beside him and turned to stare at him in shock.
Sima Li only smiled wider. "Big smiles now, Feifei," he said cheerfully. "The fans need to love this."
Mo Fei stared at him.
Was Sima Li seriously taking pictures with him on the red carpet? What was this man thinking?
Slowly, Mo Fei looked toward the crowd.
Everyone. "…"
Mo Fei. "…"
Sima Li waved happily and pulled him a little closer. Mo Fei shook his head, but a smile broke across his face anyway.
Fine, then.
This was not so bad.
He relaxed beside Sima Li and posed with him.
A second later, both of them burst into laughter on the red carpet.
The crowd, confused and shocked at their closeness at first, quickly abandoned all hesitation.
Superstar Sima Li beside the once-again-rising model Mo Fei?
No one wanted to miss this.
The cameras began clicking faster with fans screamed louder.
"Mo Fei! Sima Li! A bit closer!"
"Gege and Mo Fei? Damn it all, I love them both!"
"Look how happy Sima Li is beside him!"
"Goodness, they're both laughing. Who knew they were this close?"
"Mo Fei looks so relaxed!"
"Sima Li really dragged him back like"
"This friendship? I support it!"
"Mo Fei and gege are so cute!"
"I'm posting this right now. This is going to trend."
"Wait, why do they actually look good together on camera?"
"No awkwardness at all. They're clearly close!"
The industry watched, stunned.
For once, no one seemed to be judging. They were only watching and admiring.
Sima Li laughed brightly beside Mo Fei, while Mo Fei smiled with a kind of ease the public had not seen from him in a long time.
The cameras flashed without mercy.
And just like that, Sima Li turned Mo Fei's already shocking appearance at the gala into another headline waiting to happen.
Inside the gala hall, the atmosphere was already buzzing.
Actors, models, idols, influencers, editors, directors, everyone who was anyone seemed to be present. Laughter, music, clinking glasses, and polite conversations filled the grand space, blending into the kind of elegant noise only high society could produce.
Sima Li practically hugged Mo Fei to himself as he dragged him across the hall, introducing him to one person after another.
"Mo Fei, this is Director Han."
"Actor Xing, have you met Mo Fei?"
"What? No way, I saw you at the beach last week!"
Mo Fei had lost count of how many times he had bowed and smiled tonight. He had hoped for a quiet evening.
Unfortunately, the universe had once again laughed in his face and presented Sima Li to him.
Being surrounded by a room full of stars should have been overwhelming, but for Mo Fei, it had the opposite effect.
They are stars. So what?
It's not like I'm lesser than them.
I'm going to grab this opportunity and make a name for myself.
So he smiled politely, exchanged greetings, accepted introductions, and toasted with a few people. Surprisingly, no one said anything out of place. No one mentioned his scandal. No one even looked at him as if he did not belong.
Everyone was polite. Jovial, even.
After a while, Mo Fei excused himself from Sima Li's circle of friends. He needed another glass of wine and, more importantly, a few seconds to breathe.
He walked toward the large wine tower in the middle of the room and picked up a glass.
Taking a sip, he let the flavour settle on his tongue.
Not bad.
Everything was going well. He had made a few connections, the people here were pleasant enough, and no disaster had happened so far.
Nothing could go wrong tonight.
"Ahh, it really is you, Mo Fei!"
The smile on Mo Fei's face immediately turned sour.
Ah.
Of course. He should have known.
Ever since he stepped into the hall, he had felt it. That faint, ugly feeling at the back of his neck. He had tried to push it away, pretending tonight would remain peaceful.
But no.
Here it was.
The fuckening.
That precise moment when things are going too well and you didn't trust it, knowing something terrible might happen, and then it did. Ah, that was it, the fuckening.
Mo Fei turned toward the person who had called him.
It was a man he did not know.
The man stood a short distance away with a woman clinging to his arm. She wore a sultry smile as they approached him together.
Mo Fei smiled politely. "Do I know you?"
The man laughed.
It was loud enough to draw the attention of several nearby guests. Then, just as suddenly, his expression turned serious.
"No," he said with a frown. "You don't."
Mo Fei blinked.
Mm?
What was happening? Whatever. He should just leave. "A pleasure to meet you. Please excus... "
"What?" the man cut him off. "You're just going to leave? Where are your manners? Tch, young people these days."
Mo Fei looked him over.
He did not seem drunk. So was he simply a troublemaker? Mo Fei sighed inwardly. Tonight was supposed to be quiet.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
"Help?" The man smiled coldly. "No, no. I'm merely here to confirm it for myself."
"Confirm what?" Mo Fei's gaze narrowed slightly.
The man walked closer.
He was shorter than Mo Fei, but he tried very hard to make himself look tall and imposing. Mo Fei found this funny and had to resist the urge to laugh.
"When I saw that you got invited to the Vogue gala, I was surprised," the man said. "After all, it's not every day Vogue decides to pick trash off the street."
Mo Fei's expression cooled.
He stared down at him.
If anything was going through his mind, he did not show it. He only tightened his grip slightly around the wine glass in his hand.
"Hahaha… Mr. Jian, don't be cruel," the woman beside him laughed softly.
Jian pulled her closer with a smile, then looked at Mo Fei with a cold grin.
"People like you aren't welcome here, Mo Fei. I've been watching you move around the room with Sima Li like you actually belong. Disgraceful."
"Mr. Jian," Mo Fei said calmly, "I don't even know you. Do you have a problem with me?"
Don't lash out. Hold it in, Feifei.
Jian examined him from head to toe, then waved a hand dismissively.
This bastard. Who did Mo Fei think he was, coming here?
Jian was one of the most respected editors in the industry, and he had always despised Mo Fei. Tonight, he would put this little brat in his place.
"Hmph. It's bad enough that you don't even know who I am," Jian said. "Shouldn't you be bowing and greeting me first?"
Mo Fei stared at him.
His gaze moved from Jian's pot belly, which looked as if it was fighting for its life against the buttons of his shirt, to the bald patch on his head. Then his eyes drifted toward the woman clinging to him.
Aunty? Pfft. No.
More like a wretched pick-me aunty.
Seriously, aunty, do better.
Jian noticed that Mo Fei was no longer looking at him. His face darkened.
Was this little brat ignoring him?
How dare he?
"Hey!" Jian raised his voice. "Are you even listening to me?"
Nope.
Not even a little bit.
Mo Fei smiled and took another sip of wine.
Everything about Jian's appearance was making him want to laugh. The way he spoke, the way his stomach bounced with every word, the way he tried to act powerful while looking like a steamed bun in a tight suit.
If this continued, Mo Fei was afraid he would lose it.
Seeing his reaction, Jian became even more furious. He reached out and grabbed Mo Fei's wrist.
"Are you ignoring me?" Jian snapped. "Let me tell you, I am Editor Jian. Renowned and well respected. How dare you be disrespectful?"
Mo Fei looked down at the hand gripping him. Irritation crossed his face.
He would have let things go and walked away. But now, Jian had gone and done it.
He had pissed him off.
Mo Fei raised his head and stared at him.
"Let go," he said.
Jian smirked. "What if I don't?"
Mo Fei turned his gaze briefly toward the balcony.
It was rather high. If he threw Jian off it, would the man fly?
No. Fuck that. Maybe just a little beating.
Yes.
He would pull his ultimate card. Mo Fei looked back at Jian. Then, in the next second, his eyes filled with tears.
"Wahhhh!" he cried loudly. "Uncle, you're hurting my hand! It hurts!"
Jian froze. "…"
The woman. "…"
Several nearby guests turned to look.
Mo Fei sniffled pitifully, his voice trembling just enough to sound wounded.
"I was only trying to drink wine quietly. Why are you bullying me?"
Jian's face twitched.
What?
Mo Fei lowered his head slightly, looking like a fragile, wronged beauty who had been cruelly attacked by an unreasonable elder.
Inside, however, he smiled.
Since this man wanted a scene... Fine, Mo Fei would give him theatre.