Jiang Cheng didn't take the two of them to Hang Lung Plaza or IFC.
It was New Year's Day; whether you arrived in a super-car or a luxury sedan, you'd only end up crawling in traffic, and the malls would be packed shoulder-to-shoulder—why bother?
After careful discussion, the trio unanimously chose the relatively less crowded K11 Art Mall.
Compared with the Bund area, Huaihai Road was less congested, yet because of the holiday it was already nightfall when they finally reached K11's trendy art district.
The upper half of the building housed offices, the lower half retail.
When the lift doors opened on the first floor, all three looked around in surprise.
They'd braced themselves for long queues to shop or eat, but the foot-traffic was unexpectedly light.
And this was New Year's Day—by rights a centrally located K11 should be swarming with people.
There were shoppers, certainly, yet compared with the Hang Lung and IFC they'd visited before, K11 felt emptier than those malls on an ordinary workday.
Surprised or not, they started to browse.
Perhaps because K11 styles itself an art mall, every corner was filled with paintings and sculptural displays, but the layout was so convoluted it felt uncomfortable.
After one circuit they had spotted plenty of high-end brands, yet the zig-zagging paths almost left them lost.
Anyone short-tempered would probably have stalked out halfway.
To Jiang Cheng, this alone made K11 inferior to Hang Lung.
There, a single glance from the ground floor revealed every boutique's position—clean, clear, intuitive; you could head straight to whatever shop you wanted.
The circulation route was smooth and logical, unlike here, where shopping meant constant way-finding, the excess passages flashy but pointless.
Some corridors even ended in dead ends; you had to double back, a real foot-sore waste.
Add the riot of clashing colours, chaotic displays, and less-than-premium storefront designs…
Jiang Cheng and Si Qing had once run into Zheng Zhigang while he was inspecting IFC.
They'd talked then about K11's design flaws.
A few days earlier, on New Year's Eve, Zheng Zhigang had mentioned K11 had just re-themed itself and invited Jiang Cheng to take a look when he was free.
Before they'd finished the ground floor, Jiang Cheng was already disappointed.
Because of the shopfront styling, the mall felt almost mid-market—yet the moment you stepped inside, a simple inner layer started at five figures.
A quick phone search showed they were all niche designer labels.
That's hostile to ordinary salary-earners, yet the positioning still fails to hook the truly wealthy.
Relying on the upper-middle class alone, these brands simply aren't attractive enough.
After all, once you're spending five digits, why not buy an internationally recognised name?
Why choose some obscure designer piece?
Mid-high spenders want top-tier service and atmosphere for their money.
These indie labels may be unique, but for the average upper-middle consumer the pull is weak.
After completing the loop none of them felt the slightest urge to purchase.
In the end they gravitated back to a familiar flagship—LV.
Compared with those unfamiliar fashion-forward creations, classic luxury suited Zhou Ying and Fang Yuan far better.
Both women had striking poise, perfect figures and flawless faces.
They could carry off any outfit effortlessly.
Even Jiang Cheng's least favourite all-over logo print looked stunning on Zhou Ying.
Far from tacky, it lent the garments an extra air of opulence.
As the saying goes, 'Clothes make the man, just as the saddle makes the horse.'
Sometimes the adage simply doesn't hold—especially with big-name pieces.
Take LV apparel: bags or garments alike, most are emblazoned with the brand's unmistakable monogram, announcing their identity at a glance.
The fabrics may be mediocre, but they certainly aren't sold for loose change.
Anyone can see the piece costs thousands at minimum.
Yet do you really believe wearing such items automatically signals wealth?
Look at Wang Zheng.
The first time Jiang Cheng saw him he wore a vivid green jade necklace—fine quality—but his LV T-shirt was rumpled and shapeless.
Most importantly, he was short, chubby, and his hair was a mess.
If it weren't for the supercar he usually paired with this vibe,
who in a crowd would guess he was loaded??
People might even assume his outfit was a knock-off he'd snagged off Taobao.
Yet for the truly rich, flashy accessories are no longer needed to flaunt status.
On the contrary, it's their ownership that gives those items their luster.
Wang Congcong was the same—without that national husband face,
who would see wealth in his trademark bird's-nest hair and designer labels?
Not to mention the Richard Mille he always wore.
Anyone out of the loop could easily mistake it for a plastic digital watch.
But because he was Wang Congcong, everyone instinctively knew it couldn't be.
This was the peak era of his life.
Thanks to him, that model became famous among the nation's Second-generation rich.
At that moment, the LV Female Sales Associate saw Jiang Cheng walk in with two nearly identical women.
She greeted them at once, poised and deferential.
Working in luxury retail, she'd seen this scenario countless times.
Still, she couldn't help silently grumbling: they look so alike—twins? Rich men sure know how to enjoy themselves, always finding rare beauties—and two at once.
Yet she found herself stealing extra glances at Jiang Cheng.
After countless encounters with heirs like Wang Congcong, a sudden appearance of such a handsome man made her pulse quicken.
Compared with her initial reluctance to enter the boutique with Jiang Cheng, Zhou Ying was now slowly accepting his generosity.
After all, he'd bought her a car and a house; fussing over clothes would just look fake.
Zhou Ying strolled languidly through the racks, Fang Yuan in tow.
Watching Zhou Ying's back, Fang Yuan felt a ripple inside.
She remembered the days of debt, how once-naïve Zhou Ying had turned realistic for money and material things, and sighed.
Now, leaning on Jiang Cheng, Zhou Ying once again lived a life of luxury, just like in childhood.
Fang Yuan's resentment toward Jiang Cheng ebbed a little.
Though he had deceived Zhou Ying, his care and concern were real.
Compared with her own fate, hers looked even bleaker.
At least Jiang Cheng was willing to lie to her and treated her feelings with consideration,
instead of slapping cash across her face and demanding obedience like some tycoon.
Thinking this, Fang Yuan voluntarily made an excuse for him.
Maybe at noon he really hadn't meant it.
After all, young and full of energy, it was understandable if he momentarily mistook her for Zhou Ying.
Though his actions had gone too far, in the end nothing had actually happened, right?
As long as it stayed outside the body, it didn't count, did it??
Fang Yuan sighed and repeated the thought, trying to persuade herself.
As she drifted into rumination, the Female Sales Associate cheerfully pointed to a brand-new winter denim set displayed before them and said to Fang Yuan and Zhou Ying, "This winter denim suit is perfect for both of you!"
Fang Yuan studied it, then turned to Zhou Ying with a smile. "It's a bit Little Girl for me, but it would suit you perfectly."
The associate beamed. "Not at all! You're about the same age and look so alike—this would make a gorgeous sister outfit."
Hearing that, Zhou Ying covered her mouth and giggled.
She cooed at Fang Yuan, "Right, Mom? Let's try it together—it's really cute."
When Zhou Ying called Fang Yuan "Mom," the stunned Female Sales Associate clapped a hand over her mouth,
her eyes wide with disbelief.
"You're her mother? I thought you two were sisters!"
Zhou Ying's face lit up with pride as she chatted with the associate.
"Exactly! Yesterday when Mom visited my school, my classmates thought she was my older sister."
The associate quickly agreed, glancing toward Fang Yuan.
"We serve celebrities all the time, but compared with them, your mom's skin is even better—there's no sign of age at all."
Her admiration looked utterly sincere, not the least bit forced.