The last thing Gan Dae remembered was the Italian handmade crystal lamp backstage at the Balenciaga show. The light spots reflected by the cut surface flowed on the custom-made dress she had just photographed. When the chiffon skirt swept the ground, the champagne stains it brought up were like fleeting clouds. Assistant Amy was chasing after her with a tablet: "Sister Goose, the tailor on Savile Row said that the riding outfit you want has been altered. Do you want a video inspection..."
The words were broken in the harsh sound of electricity. The crystal lamp suddenly burst out with dazzling white light. Gan Dago subconsciously raised his hand to block it, but what his fingertips touched was not the cold glass as expected, but a piece of hot, rough cloth with a smell.
