Chapter 14

Meanwhile, on the other side, Chi Xun was also taking a gamble. She wagered that Ze Fei, as an adult man, wouldn’t have the habit of watching his teammates strip off all their clothes, so he changed his shirt first, while calmly beginning to undo his belt.

At last, just as she pulled off his belt, he announced that he had to leave first.

Once he had walked away, Chi Xun immediately locked the door and leaned against the mirror, her arm still weak and trembling.

She had underestimated how close those six were. If eating and sleeping together was so routine for them, then sitting close or even hugging must be normal social behavior.

No wonder Song Yao’an had naturally leaned against her this morning; these men truly had no sense of boundaries among themselves.

To avoid encountering them half-dressed on her way out, Chi Xun leisurely put on her pants and only pushed the door open after hearing no sounds outside.

She packed away the old outfit into the storage locker and returned to the dressing room.

“Finished changing?” The stylist, who seemed to have been waiting for some time, immediately sprang up from the stool upon seeing her and circled her thoughtfully, stroking his chin. “Not bad, not bad, this looks like a set tailor-made for you.”

“Xiao Yue, come over and apply a base layer, make it light. A soft makeup will be enough,” he said, turning his head.

“Okay, Teacher Zhu,” replied a young girl addressed as Xiao Yue.

Her touch was gentle; even with her eyes closed, Chi Xun felt the powder puff lightly and swiftly patting her face, as soothing as a massage.

When the stylist took over, the process accelerated.

Eyebrows, eyeshadow, and lashes were barely touched upon before he started working on her hairstyle.

“Your skin is really good,” whispered the girl beside her. “I didn’t expect the posts online to be fake—it doesn’t look like you at all in those pictures.”

Chi Xun thought for a moment and replied seriously, “Actually, the scavenger style clothes are quite authentic.”

Xiao Yue giggled softly, smoothing out stray hairs at the back of her head with hairspray.

“If your face looks like this, it wouldn’t matter even if you wore a sack.”

“If you want freedom to dress as you please, you can’t rely on this star identity,” a stern voice interrupted.

Chi Xun saw Xiao Yue’s smile vanish; she shrank her head like a quail, clearly respectful toward Zhuang Qu.

The stylist took the lip gloss from Xiao Yue’s hand and whispered, “Go handle something else.”

Xiao Yue hurriedly left.

“You shouldn’t always wear that serious face, unpredictable moods—I really don’t know what your girlfriend sees in you,” the stylist joked, waving casually.

“Come sit, take a look at my favorite outfit today.”

Chi Xun had been eavesdropping quietly.

Suddenly, the rotating chair beneath her was gently turned, and she found herself facing Zhuang Qu standing at the door.

He wore a half-unbuttoned blue shirt, sleeves rolled up in a wrinkled fashion, his work ID clipped diagonally to his chest pocket, and a pair of rimless glasses perched on his nose—a typical corporate drone look, with faint weariness and impatience at the corners of his eyes.

But he was tall, with narrow eyes that always seemed to look down and scrutinize others, making him appear unapproachable.

Chi Xun shared the stylist’s unspoken question—

What exactly did his girlfriend see in him?

“Only the lip gloss left to apply. Once done, you’re ready for the shoot.”

The stylist bent over to spread the blush—a nude pink layered with a glossy lip balm.

Zhuang Qu’s gaze fell upon it, noting the boy’s naturally rosy lips gleamed with moist shine, cheeks dusted with matching blush, hair styled deliberately wet.

He looked as if he had just showered, or rather…

Just finished a breathless, passionate kiss that left his eyes reddened at the corners.

Paired with those pure, innocent eyes.

The contrast was extreme, and utterly captivating.

“How is it?” the stylist asked, raising an eyebrow with pride.

“No complaints this time, right? Remember to help me apply for a new makeup room.”

Zhuang Qu met Chi Xun’s confused gaze and said after a pause, “After today’s shoot, come visit my office, Area A, Room 1103.”

Chi Xun nodded.

Once he walked away, she whispered to the stylist, “He doesn’t look very satisfied.”

“You don’t understand him.”

The stylist smiled and began tidying the cluttered makeup table. “If he wasn’t satisfied, he would have complained already. The fewer words he says, the more pleased he is. Alright, thanks for waiting so long today. Change your shoes and let’s go shoot. Next time, you’ll be the first I style.”

Chi Xun rubbed her stiff neck and stood up.

Stylist Zhu Yang glanced at her casually and, surprised, remarked, “Let me see—your Adam’s apple, there’s none at all.”

“Maybe…”

Chi Xun racked her brain for an explanation.

But Zhu Yang interrupted, placing something into her hand. “I was just wondering what to add as a finishing touch—wear this, and the look will be flawless.”

When Chi Xun emerged from the dressing room, it was close to noon.

The office was quiet with few people coming and going. As Xiao Yue led her toward the studio, Chi Xun fiddled with the object on her neck.

Turning left and right it rubbed against her skin, so she gave up adjusting it further.

Near the studio entrance, someone stood sideways by the railing, drinking water.

With fresh tea-colored short hair, gentle features, and lips that seemed to smile even when expressionless, Chi Xun quickly recognized him.

“Song Yao’an?”

He turned at the call.

“I’ll head back first then.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Chi Xun waved goodbye to Xiao Yue and walked over to the man.

“Why are you out here? Are the others still shooting?”

Song Yichu sized up the small figure before him.

So this was Chi Xun; judging by the tone, he and Song Yao’an had gotten along well these days.

He was used to this younger brother pretending to be cheerful and making lots of friends outside, only to come clean up the mess afterward.

He finished his last sip of water, crushed the paper cup, and tossed it into the trash bin.

“Just needed some fresh air, and it was about time for a break.”

Looking down, he said, “Come on, it’s a bit complicated inside, I’ll take you in.”

Chi Xun followed without hesitation.

Perhaps because of the black turtleneck she wore, Song Yao’an suddenly carried a deeper, previously unseen calmness, deliberately slowing his pace to walk alongside her.

For a moment, the gray corridor echoed only with their footsteps.

The studio, constructed of steel and concrete, was divided into numerous sections, some uncovered, each with a distinct setting—a classroom, a chapel, a small stage, and even one with just a huge mattress.

At the corridor’s end, Song Yichu pulled aside a black blackout curtain, letting her enter first before slipping inside himself.

Inside, under the pure white backdrop, a group was shooting.

Having just finished a solo shot of Si Heng, the other boys stepped aside, and a swarm of makeup artists buzzed in to touch up and adjust their outfits.

Hearing approaching footsteps, Xie Shisheng was the first to look up.

The others also turned, and upon seeing Chi Xun’s appearance, they all froze.

The black fishnet top paired with a matching tight tank top—it wasn’t unheard of, but usually worn tight to reveal muscular lines.

Rarely did anyone wear it loosely as he did, the slender waist faintly visible beneath the black mesh.

“Is that Chi Xun?!”

“Oh my god, she’s too beautiful in person.”

“Like a doll, I thought a neighboring girl group had wandered in by mistake.”

Hearing the low murmur around her, Song Yao’an’s heart stirred oddly, as if a treasure he had discovered himself had suddenly become a coveted gem.

He wanted Chi Xun to come to his side quickly, smiling and waving to her.

“Here!”

But in the next moment, the man who had been blocking behind Chi Xun stepped forward to stand beside the boy—and he saw a face exactly identical to his own.

It was his older brother, Song Yichu.

Chi Xun glanced from Song Yao’an in the distance back to the “Song Yao’an” beside her, feeling trapped in a bizarre loop.

“Which one of you is…”

“I’m Song Yao’an’s twin older brother,” the one beside her spoke first. “My name is Song Yichu.”

“Then why didn’t you deny it when I called Song Yao’an earlier?”

The man sighed helplessly.

“I didn’t confirm it either.”

Chi Xun: “...”

Alright then.

He hadn’t responded earlier, but it was out of goodwill to bring her inside.

Chi Xun rubbed her temple and looked at the perfectly replicated face of Song Yao’an in front of her, feeling perplexed.

“But truly, there is no difference in your appearances.”

“There are subtle differences.”

“On the face?”

“No.”

“Body shape?”

“No either. Our pheromones differ; so do some glands and similar gland-like parts,” Song Yichu explained patiently, like a kindergarten teacher answering questions. “But after spending enough time, maybe you can tell us apart by personality and voice, like Xie Shisheng and the others do.”

Similar gland-like… parts.

Parts?

Only then did Chi Xun realize she had broached a rather private topic between boys. Continuing would be impolite.

“Ha, I see.” She scratched her head and tried to dispel the flush on her face. “Guess I’ll have to rely on time, then.”

“What are you two talking about? Already so happy just after meeting?”

Song Yao’an, having appeared silently, now smiled as his eyes flicked between them.

“Nothing,” they both replied in unison.

Song Yichu immediately saw through his little brother’s innocent act and declined firmly.

Chi Xun was too embarrassed to repeat herself.

Seeing the panic and lingering redness on the boy’s earlobes, Song Yao’an’s gaze deepened, but his tone was teasing.

“You two are pretty in sync, huh.”

...

Chi Xun had been a bit nervous at first.

She had never done a formal portrait shoot before, only knowing it was similar to promotional ID photos idols take before debut, but slightly more casual.

She worried about posing awkwardly and stiff expressions.

But after watching Si Heng’s shoot, she quickly relaxed.

He maintained a cold expression throughout, barely parting his lips, with almost no other expressions or gestures.

Standing, sitting, or half-squatting, he finished swiftly.

Seeing his shoot, Chi Xun’s confidence soared, and she straightened her back as she stepped forward.

She stood.

“Come on, let’s do the double-finger poke-the-cheek pose, okay?”

“How about tugging the collar?”

“Very good, now do a one-sided heart symbol!”

Later she sat down.

The photographer had her rest her chin on her hand, then hug her knees, then act cool...

Watching the shoot intently, Xu You gradually noticed something strange: Chi Xun’s solo shots were taking unusually long—almost a hundred clicks of the shutter.

When he glanced back, the other six boys stood quietly by, observing without any objections.