"I told you, I don't want it," Mo Fei wailed, wiping away fake invisible tears. "Why must you bully a young, dashing, supreme beauty like me?"
Jian stared at him.
What kind of bullshit was this? Who would even believe such shameless nonsense?
He quickly removed his hand from Mo Fei's grip. "What do you think you're doing?"
But Mo Fei was faster. He grabbed Jian's hand again and placed it back over his wrist.
"Wahhh! Uncle old man, have mercy!"
Jian's face twitched.
Uncle old man? What level of nonsense was this brat spewing?
Jian looked around in horror. People were already looking at them.
Mo Fei wailed even louder, completely shameless.
Just you wait, old man. I'll feed you this drama until you can't swallow anymore.
"Let go!" Jian snapped.
"You're the one holding me," Mo Fei said pitifully.
Jian looked down. "Nonsense! It's clearly you!"
"I don't even know you, Uncle Old Man," Mo Fei said, and then he lowered his voice just enough for Jian to hear the threat beneath the tears. "Struggle more and I'll cry even harder."
Jian, "..."
Wasn't Mo Fei scared of ruining his reputation?
Why would he choose to be this shameless?
Since when was he like this?
Jian had expected Mo Fei to fight back. Or lower his head. Or leave, as he always used to do. Mo Fei had never been one to make trouble in public.
So why was he acting this way now?
For a brief second, the elegant gala hall fell into a strange pocket of silence.
Mo Fei sniffled again, his eyes moist, his expression fragile enough to make anyone watching feel as though they had just witnessed a grown man bullying a beautiful porcelain doll.
"Uncle old man," Mo Fei whimpered, his voice trembling, "why are you holding me so tightly? I only asked if I could help you."
Jian's face went pale, Who was this brat calling uncle? "I... "
"You even called me trash," Mo Fei continued, lowering his gaze pitifully. "I know I still have a lot to prove, but I didn't think someone of your status would humiliate me in public like this."
The surrounding guests began whispering.
"Did he really call him trash?"
"That's Editor Jian, isn't it?"
"Why is he grabbing Mo Fei like that?"
"This is Vogue China. How embarrassing."
"Mo Fei looks like he's about to cry."
Jian finally seemed to realise that several eyes had turned toward them.
He immediately released Mo Fei's wrist.
But it was too late.
Mo Fei slowly lifted his hand and rubbed the spot Jian had touched, his expression still wounded. The skin there was slightly red.
Not dramatic enough to ruin someone's life. But visible enough to make people believe he had been wronged.
Perfect.
Jian's face darkened. "You... don't act pitiful in front of me!"
Mo Fei blinked at him, eyes wide and innocent.
"Act?" he repeated softly. "Mr. Jian, you were the one who stopped me, insulted and grabbed my hand."
He paused, then added in a smaller voice, "I didn't even know who you were."
Several people nearby inhaled sharply. That one was a knife.
A small, polished, socially acceptable knife.
Jian's face turned red.
The woman beside him quickly tried to laugh it off. "Mr. Mo Fei, I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding. Mr. Jian is only very direct when he speaks."
Mo Fei turned his gentle gaze toward her. "Aunty, are you saying it's normal for him to grab people when he's being direct?"
The woman's smile stiffened.
Aunty?
Her fingers tightened around Jian's arm.
Mo Fei lowered his gaze again, looking even more harmless. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you too."
Damn feifei, maybe I should drop modelling, acting seems like a talent
The woman's face nearly cracked.
The guests watching exchanged looks. Someone coughed to hide a laugh.
Jian pointed at Mo Fei, his hand shaking slightly. "You little... "
"Mo Fei?"
A voice cut through the air.
Mo Fei looked up.
A man dressed in a grey suit walked toward them, a glass of champagne in one hand.
"What's going on?"
The moment he appeared, the whispers grew louder. Jian's expression changed instantly.
Tang Wei.
One of Vogue China's biggest sponsors. He was not just another star.
He was one of the biggest names in the industry. A national-level celebrity with powerful backing, an untouchable fanbase, and enough influence to turn one careless comment into an online funeral.
He stood at the level where he could make or break a star. No one wanted to cross him.
Tang Wei's gaze moved from Mo Fei's reddened wrist to Jian's furious face.
His smile faded. "What is this?"
Mo Fei immediately looked away, as if trying to be strong. "It's nothing."
Tang Wei stared at him.
Then he looked at Jian. The temperature around them seemed to drop.
Jian forced a smile. "Mr. Wei, this is only a small misunderstanding. I was merely speaking with Mo Fei."
"Speaking?" Tang Wei asked.
His tone was light, but his eyes were not smiling. "Do you usually speak with your hands?"
Jian's mouth opened, then closed.
Mo Fei stood quietly beside Tang Wei, his head slightly lowered. From the outside, he looked like someone trying very hard not to make things worse.
Inside, he was clapping.
Whoever this tall mister was, he clearly had enough power to make Jian terrified.
The woman beside Jian quickly stepped in.
"Mr. Wei, please don't misunderstand. Mr. Jian only wanted to remind Mo Fei that this kind of event requires proper manners."
Tang Wei slowly turned to her. "And you are?" he asked. "I don't remember asking you to speak."
The woman fell silent immediately.
Colour drained from her face.She had crossed a line out of fear. Quickly, she bowed her head and said nothing more.
The guests nearby were no longer pretending not to listen. Several had fully turned toward the scene, glasses in hand, expressions polite but eyes bright with gossip. This was no longer a quiet incident. This was entertainment.
At the centre of the room, Jian was sweating now. He had expected Mo Fei to either get angry or shrink back. He had not expected the brat to cry loudly in the middle of the gala and turn himself into a victim before anyone could blink.
Even worse, Tang Wei had appeared.
Jian forced another trembling smile. "Mr. Wei, you're taking this too seriously. I only said a few words. Young people these days are too sensitive."
Mo Fei raised his head slightly. His voice was soft. "Mr. Jian, don't sugarcoat your words now. Be an adult and step up."
Tang Wei's eyes narrowed.
Jian's face stiffened.
"You!" He clenched his fist.
Mo Fei saw it and he quickly hid behind Tang Wei and poked his head out from the side.
"Violence at such a prestigious event?" Mo Fei said, looking horrified. "Mr. Jian, have some shame. An old man like you shouldn't stoop so low."
Tang Wei glanced at Mo Fei. Then, despite himself, he chuckled.
He turned back to Jian, who looked as if he was ready to give up the ghost.
Mo Fei almost laughed at Jian's face.
No.
Hold it in. He was a fragile victim right now.
Jian's face had turned an impressive shade of red.
"I am a respected editor!" he snapped, finally losing his patience. "I have every right to question why someone with Mo Fei's reputation was invited here!"
That sentence did it.
The whispers grew sharper. Even some of the guests who had remained neutral frowned slightly.
Questioning Mo Fei was one thing.
Questioning Vogue China's invitation choice inside the gala itself was another.
That was no longer just insulting Mo Fei.
That was insulting the host.
Tang Wei smiled. And in that moment, Jian knew he had truly messed up.
"So you're saying Vogue China made a mistake?"
Jian's expression froze. "I didn't say that."
"But you questioned why he was invited."
"I meant... "
"You meant someone like him doesn't belong here," Tang Wei said, taking one slow step forward. "Right?"
Jian pressed his lips together. Mo Fei watched quietly.
"Looking at it," Tang Wei said calmly, "the only one unfit to be here is you."
Then he snapped his fingers.
Two guards stepped forward immediately, each grabbing one of Jian's arms.
Tang Wei waved a hand. "Throw this fool out."
"What? No!" Jian struggled at once. "Get your hands off me! What are you doing? I haven't done anything! Mr. Wei! Mr. Wei, please! I beg you!"
His pleading and shouting fell on deaf ears.
The nearby guests merely shook their heads and returned to what they had been doing, as if what happened was just another ordinary issue on a Tuesday evening.
Mo Fei stepped out from behind Tang Wei.
Tang Wei placed an arm around his shoulder and led him away.
Behind them, Jian's voice faded into the distance.
Mo Fei lowered his head slightly following Tang Wei, still looking wronged.
Tonight had been going well.
"You're the most talked-about man on the internet," Tang Wei said with a smile. He stopped near the balcony, far enough from the crowd to give them a little privacy, but still close enough not to look suspicious.
Mo Fei laughed nervously.
"Hehe…"
He was not entirely sure whether to take that as a compliment or a warning.
"I apologize for Jian's behaviour," Tang Wei said, looking at him. "I hope you're all right?"
"Oh, it's fine. I'm all right." Mo Fei bowed politely. "Thank you for stepping in."
Tang Wei only grinned. "Though I was sure you could have handled it yourself."
Mo Fei looked at him, confused.
Tang Wei's smile deepened.
"I saw you on the news after you were discharged from the hospital. You left quite an impression on the industry with that video."
Mo Fei tried to remember what he meant.
Then it clicked.
After he had been discharged from the hospital, he had been surrounded by reporters and onlookers. Someone had grabbed him, and he had no choice but to lash out.
Mo Fei blinked innocently. "I have no idea what you mean."
That only made Tang Wei smile even more.
"It's impressive how quickly the industry forgives these days," Tang Wei added.
Mo Fei's expression remained calm. "I wouldn't know," he said. "I'm still waiting for it to start."
Tang Wei looked at him. Mo Fei was becoming more interesting to him by the second.
He stretched out a hand.
"I'm Tang Wei. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
Mo Fei took his hand.
"Mo Fei. Thank you again for helping me back there."
"It's nothing," Tang Wei said smoothly. "We at Vogue always look out for one of us."
One of us?
That sounded strange to Mo Fei.
Still, he paid it no mind and turned his gaze toward the view beyond the balcony. The city below was alive, lights stretching endlessly across the night like glittering veins.
"I heard you rejected Celeste," Tang Wei said.
Mo Fei's eyes narrowed slightly.
Was he spying on him?
It had not even been that long since he told Louis to reject Celeste's offer. The matter should have been confidential.
Looking at Tang Wei, he did not immediately strike Mo Fei as a stalker.
Then again, who knew?
"Seems everyone knows more about me than I know about myself," Mo Fei said.
"You're a very interesting man, Mo Fei."
"Interesting enough to gain Vogue's attention?" Mo Fei asked with a small smirk.
Tang Wei paused with his wine glass already lifted toward his lips. Slowly, he lowered it.
"I wasn't too surprised to see you on the guest list."
"Most people were," Mo Fei said, looking across the room.
As much as he hated to admit it, being here made him feel small.
Tang Wei followed his gaze. "Then they are fools," he said calmly.
Mo Fei looked at him.
This man had walked into the room and made heads turn. Even Jian, who had been bold enough to insult Mo Fei in public, had been terrified of him.
Who exactly was Tang Wei?
And to insult others so calmly? He had to be someone important.
"You're not as helpless as you pretend to be," Tang Wei said, glancing at him.
The words stabbed at Mo Fei's chest.
Recently, everyone kept saying something like that.
He was doing his best, okay?
"That's what you think," Mo Fei said with a chuckle.
"Would you rather I think otherwise?" Tang Wei raised a brow.
"No." Mo Fei lifted his chin slightly. "Don't underestimate me."
"If I did, I wouldn't be here."
Mo Fei fell silent for a moment.
Tang Wei took a slow sip of his wine, then asked, "Tell me something, Mo Fei. I'm curious. Why did you drop Celeste?"
Mo Fei looked down at the wine glass in his hand.
"A brand chooses its ambassador twice," he said, swirling the wine gently.
Tang Wei raised a brow.
Mo Fei continued, "The first time, when everything is easy…" His lips curved slightly.
"And the second time, when everything is difficult." He looked at Tang Wei. "Isn't that so, Mr. Wei?"
Tang Wei stared at him for a second. Then he laughed. "You're right." He laughed again, this time with real amusement. "You really are something, Mo Fei."
Tang Wei slipped a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a black card. He handed it to Mo Fei.
"Most people almost never rise through a scandal," he said. "But you seem to be doing well."
Mo Fei looked down at the card.
"Give me a call sometime," Tang Wei added. "I'd like to talk again." he straightened his jacket. "Now, you must excuse me. I have matters to attend to."
With that, Tang Wei walked away, leaving Mo Fei standing near the balcony, staring at the black card in his hand.
For a moment, Mo Fei said nothing.
Then his fingers tightened around the card.
Tonight, it seemed, had given him more than one door.