But she didn't expose Jiang Cheng.
As before, Jiang Cheng wasn't flaunting money in Zhou Ying's face.
On the contrary, he was very mindful of her feelings.
Fang Yuan even felt a twinge of envy—she had never met a man like this.
A boy from such a privileged background, generous with money and yet so considerate; it was truly rare.
She had nothing to criticize there.
Fang Yuan watched helplessly as Zhou Ying and Jiang Cheng picked out handbags that cost tens of thousands each.
She hadn't bought a luxury item in years; she'd almost forgotten the thrill of such extravagance.
She knew Jiang Cheng's family was well-off, but seeing him shop without the slightest hesitation, she felt she'd once again underestimated just how well-off.
At Jiang Cheng's insistence they ended up with four handbags, four women's garments, and four men's pieces.
The bill came to a mere ¥180,000; Jiang Cheng didn't even bother using his basic Consumption Cashback Card.
After all, that card's maximum rebate applied only to purchases up to ¥500,000.
Using it here would have been a waste.
Next, at Christian Dior, Jiang Cheng repeated the same routine.
"Ying'er, which style do you like? See if there's one that matches mine—we can go for couple outfits."
Zhou Ying, already lost in the glow of new love, happily began picking again.
"How about this one? Do I look better in the long dress or the short?" She held up two identical designs of different lengths for Jiang Cheng's opinion.
At five-foot-eight, Zhou Ying could carry a long dress effortlessly even without heels.
The length didn't overwhelm her; instead it gave her an ethereal grace.
Swap flats for stilettos and she'd be pure society-page elegance.
Trade the long dress for a short one and those mile-long legs would slay anyone.
"Such a tough call—let's take both. Everything looks beautiful on you," Jiang Cheng said, meaning every word.
Hearing that, the veteran Sales Associate swooped in, showering Zhou Ying with attention.
Seasoned luxury staff can spot potential buyers at a glance.
The Patek Philippe on Jiang Cheng's wrist alone marked them as prime prospects.
Today's piece wasn't a Minute Repeater, but anyone who owns a million-yuan watch is a valued client.
Some may ask: must a luxury salesgirl recognize a Patek Philippe?
Flip the question: if she can't, does she even deserve to serve a top-tier brand?
Hiring standards for high-luxury boutiques are famously strict.
People mention that many Sales Associates never finished college, but note: I'm talking about premier houses—Chanel, LV, Hermès, Gucci.
They're worlds apart from the average counter staff.
Flagship recruiters usually favor overseas graduates, who bring language skills and brand literacy.
Alternatively, they poach associates with two-plus years at rival maisons.
An ordinary new grad who walks in cold is usually rejected outright.
Unless you have inside connections, the door stays shut.
Some insist that in the 21st century no one judges clientele by outfits.
True, today's associates are better trained.
Often their own education and family background already outshine most shoppers'.
Walk in dressed plainly and they won't sneer—but they'll follow with a polite smile and nothing more.
Their enthusiasm won't match what Jiang Cheng receives.
To earn five-figure monthly salaries they must hit daily targets, so they triage customers ruthlessly.
The associate gave the trio a quick once-over.
Zhou Ying carried the latest-season Chanel on her shoulder, and both women clutched LV shopping bags—clearly on a spree.
She launched into an eager spiel about the dress's design ethos and fabric.
"This long dress is pure mulberry silk—feather-light, breathable, wrinkle-resistant. The halter neckline accentuates your collarbones..."
Zhou Ying fingered the fabric, nodded approval, and asked, "Shall I try it?"
Seeing her choose only two pieces, Jiang Cheng shook his head. "Wait—these accessories look nice too. That belt would pair perfectly."
At his words Zhou Ying obediently stepped over.
The two bent their heads together, debating choices.
Their intimacy and carefree browsing only deepened Fang Yuan's inner turmoil.
While Dior and Chanel are better known, Christian Dior's ready-to-wear often costs even more.
LV tops had run ¥5-6,000, long skirts about ¥20-30,000, but here a single dress easily topped ¥50,000.
The quality, of course, is unsurpassed—soft, eco-friendly fabrics that feel sublime.
Fang Yuan trusted Zhou Ying, yet she couldn't stop the questions racing through her mind.
Why lavish so much on Zhou Ying when they hadn't even slept together?
She'd been Zhou Ying's age once; she knew men.
Would a tycoon really throw this much money down before getting what he wants?
By now Jiang Cheng had picked six dresses, plus accessories—easily several hundred thousand.
Each time Zhou Ying stepped out of the fitting room he nodded approvingly.
They added three of the season's hit canvas totes.
Though Fang Yuan hadn't joined the selection, Jiang Cheng thoughtfully chose a bag suited to her age and two long skirts.
Anyone could see which gifts were for Zhou Ying and which were for Fang Yuan.