Mingya struggled to suppress the anger in her chest and tugged at the corner of her mouth. She was overwhelmed with work and had no time for jokes.
“I hope you think before you speak,” she said, fixing Monk with a blazing stare, as if she could burn a hole through his face.
“That model has a fuller figure. The waistline of the dress is too tight—above the navel it only makes her look heavier.” Cang’er directly ignored Mingya’s anger and walked toward the model who had been working on the outfit earlier.
“This white lace-up dress is more suitable for this model than the previous one. For slightly fullerfigured women, increasing the amount of exposed skin appropriately makes them look lighter and more graceful, rather than hiding them under excessive fabric.” As she spoke, she pulled a white spaghetti-strap dress out of the hands of a young man with a yellow buzz cut.
Mingya watched her silently and did not stop her. Clearly, this series of remarks had caught her interest.
Cang’er glanced around. The errand boys and girls stood frozen, eyes wide and mouths slightly open. She needed to add a bit more fuel to the fire if she wanted any hope of getting this job.
“Your new product line is positioned for women aged twenty to fifty. The style is clean and professional, with cooler color tones. However, your colleagues here seem more adept at sweet, girlish styling and are not quite adapted to the sudden shift toward simplification.”
A frail little girl with sallow skin and a faded brown dress—yet none of that could hide the confident gleam in her sharply defined black-and-white eyes.
Cang’er looked steadily at the silent Mingya. Second by second, the surroundings grew quiet.
Then Mingya’s cheerful laughter rang out. “Hahaha, interesting. What are your terms?”
Clearly, she had agreed to give her the job.
“Sort all the garments by color and hang them on the racks. Give me a catalog of your new products. I only need three days to complete all the styling and pattern work.” Cang’er raised three withered fingers.
“Three days. One gold coin.”
“Oh, and one more thing—room and board included, please.” Cang’er’s face remained expressionless as she brazenly emphasized it. She was simply too poor; it had to include food and lodging.
“Fine.” Mingya nodded noncommittally.
“Turn on your light-brain’s signal reception. I’ll send you the product catalog.” As she spoke, she naturally stepped closer to Cang’er and waved open the electronic screen of her own light-brain.
Cang’er, still expressionless, extended her hand, revealing two slender wrists—empty.
Mingya stared at her in shock, as if she were looking at a monkey that had just come out of the deep mountains. After a long moment, she said, “Come with me to my office. Everyone else, follow her instructions—sort the clothes by color and hang them on the racks. That’s all for today. Wrap it up.”
Mingya’s thoughts churned. Where had this wild child come from? In this day and age, how could anyone not have a light-brain? Yet Cang’er spoke clearly and acted with restraint, not at all like someone who had long been cut off from society…
She brought her to the lounge, pointed at the bed, and said, “You’ll sleep here tonight. Someone will bring you dinner later.” With a wave of her hand, she opened an electronic light screen on the white wall at the foot of the bed.
“All the product catalogs are here. I hope you don’t disappoint me tomorrow.” Then she rummaged around in the cabinet and finally pulled out a remote control from some obscure corner. With an indescribable look, she handed it to Cang’er, who was sitting steadily on the sofa.
Nowadays, few electronic displays still came with remote controls. Almost all electronic devices could be operated via a light-brain. She could only be grateful that this display was an old model from who knew how many years ago—since she rarely used it, she had never replaced it. The fact that it still had a remote was, unexpectedly, very considerate.
Mingya did not stay long. Seeing that Cang’er had already begun flipping through the product catalog, she quietly left the lounge.
Twenty minutes later, Cang’er finished scanning the entire catalog at astonishing speed and shut off the screen.
She closed her eyes. For the first time since arriving in this world, she finally slept on a bed.
She was just about to carefully recall several dresses that had left a deep impression on her as potential key pieces. The product catalog replayed in her mind like a movie, flashing past rapidly— every page intact, unforgettable at a single glance.
She opened her eyes in shock, as if she had caught a glimpse of a latent innate ability. Casually picking up a book from the bedside table, she flipped through a few pages, then closed her eyes. Instantly, everything she had just read was perfectly reproduced in her mind, word for word.
She surveyed her surroundings once more, then closed her eyes again. Everything around her became vividly clear. She could even make out the gentle curve of the smile on the girl in the painting hanging on the wall.
Did that mean she could also see everything outside that she had just passed by?
She concentrated hard and finally sensed a faint, pale mist rising in her mind.
Guiding the light-blue mist toward the door of the lounge, her consciousness gradually passed through the wooden door. She saw a girl in a white short-sleeved shirt walking toward her room, carrying a yellow package.
Soon after, she heard a knock on the door.
Cang’er mechanically opened her eyes, her head feeling slightly dizzy. She opened the door and, as expected, saw the same girl from before.
“Ms. Mingya asked me to bring you your dinner. Enjoy your meal,” the girl said with a smile, lifting the yellow package in her hand.
“Thank you,” Cang’er replied, closing the door. She rubbed her throbbing temples—she seemed to have overused her brain.