When she was thirty years old, Ruan Mengyi did two stupid things: first, she refused to design a "hot-selling item" and was kicked out of the company; second, she spilled coffee on her first love boyfriend's haute couture suit in the fashion week showroom.
Eight years ago, she left Gu Yunshen to go abroad to avoid dragging her down. Eight years later, she met him again as the vice president of an investment bank, and she was an independent designer on the verge of bankruptcy. He said, "You can come to me if you have any difficulties." She crumpled the business card into a ball and threw it into the trash can.
The studio is on the first floor of my husband's house, and the sound of the sewing machine echoes in the air. Being plagiarized by a major manufacturer and having no way to defend my rights, being deceived by suppliers and losing all my money, being ridiculed by live broadcast barrages that "the skirt is too plain and no one wants it" - the collapse of adults is when they sit in the pile of sample clothes at three o'clock in the morning and find out that they will continue tomorrow.
But Gu Yunshen wanted to barge in at this moment. With capital contracts, late-night snacks, and old scarves that have been framed in the cabinet for eight years.
He said that he was not investing in her, but waiting for the girl who could stay up three all-nighters for a two centimeter error to come back.
Later, Ruan Mengyi went to Milan with the "Cuckoo Crying Blood" series. Later, she stood in the empty husband's room wearing a wedding dress sewn by herself, and said to herself: No matter he comes or not, I have redeemed myself.
The door was pushed open. Gu Yunshen stood at the door, dusty and with red eyes.
"The payment for that order," he asked in a hoarse voice, "is it enough to buy my food and accommodation for the rest of my life?"
