Lin Xiao seemed to still be taking her time with her fruit; the clink of her fork against the glass bowl was soft.
Zhou Suisui quickly grabbed her phone from the nightstand, unlocked it, and opened the camera. she didn't turn on the flash or the sound. Then she walked to the door and peered out through the crack.
Lin Xiao had her back turned to her, placing the empty fruit container into the sink. Morning light streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a soft glow over her cream-colored knit set.
Now was the time.
Zhou Suisui held her breath and raised her phone, aiming the lens at Lin Xiao’s back. She carefully adjusted the angle, making sure to capture the silhouette and details of the entire outfit.
She pressed the shutter three or four times in quick succession, her fingertips trembling slightly from nerves.
Lin Xiao seemed completely oblivious. She washed her hands, grabbed a paper towel to dry them, and then picked up a beige cashmere cardigan draped over the back of a chair and threw it over her shoulders. Her movements were fluid and natural, without a single pause.
Zhou Suisui retreated into her room and gently pulled the door shut. Leaning her back against the door panel, she looked down at her phone screen.
The photos were clear. Even though it was just a back view, the texture of the fabric, the cut, and even that "expensive" aura were perfectly captured.
She zoomed in on the photo, carefully inspecting the inside of the collar. There was no obvious logo. She checked the cuffs and the hem—nothing.
It must be one of those brands that hid their labels in extremely discreet places; the more understated they were, the more expensive they tended to be.
Zhou Suisui stared at the photo, her mind racing through a mental search. Because of her looks in college, she had been taken out shopping by plenty of guys and had run with a circle of "plastic sisters" for a while. She was fairly familiar with common light-luxury brands and even the diffusion lines of some top-tier labels.
But she had no memory of this outfit.
It wasn't a brand within her realm of knowledge.
This meant it likely belonged to another class entirely—a world she had only heard of but never truly touched.
That sour, burning sensation welled up in her chest again.
It wasn't exactly jealousy; it was more like... the anxiety of being shut behind a glass wall.
She could see the prosperity inside the wall, but she couldn't touch it, and she couldn't get in. Meanwhile, Lin Xiao stood inside that wall, wearing clothes whose names she didn't even know and using face creams whose prices she didn't dare think about.
She needed an answer.
Zhou Suisui opened WeChat, her thumb sliding quickly through her contact list. Finally, she stopped on a name: Liu Weiwei.
A college roommate and the quintessential "plastic sister." Her family had a bit of money, and she was obsessed with shopping and showing off. she knew luxury brands like the back of her hand, and her greatest pleasure was crushing other people's taste.
Zhou Suisui’s relationship with her had always been subtle—they looked down on each other but maintained a surface-level warmth because they occasionally found each other useful.
The last time they had spoken was two months ago, when Liu Weiwei posted a photo of a new bag on her Moments and Zhou Suisui gave it a casual "like."
Now, she needed a favor.
Zhou Suisui opened the chat box and hesitated for a second. She couldn't ask directly; that would be too revealing and give Liu Weiwei ammunition to mock her.
She had to frame it differently.
She selected the clearest photo of the back view and sent it over. Then she typed:
[Weiwei, you there? Help me take a look at this outfit. A distant cousin of mine is wearing it and insists it’s some niche designer brand. I feel like I’ve seen it somewhere but I can’t place it. You have a sharp eye, can you identify it for me?]
Sent.
Every second waiting for a reply felt agonizingly long. Zhou Suisui stared at the screen, her finger unconsciously picking at the edge of her phone case.
About five minutes later, the screen lit up.
Liu Weiwei: [This is your cousin?]
Zhou Suisui: [Yeah, why?]
Liu Weiwei: [Your cousin is doing pretty well for herself.]
Zhou Suisui’s heart skipped a beat. She typed: [What do you mean?]
This time, Liu Weiwei sent a voice note. Zhou Suisui tapped it and held the phone to her ear.
Liu Weiwei’s voice carried that habitual, condescending surprise: "Zhou Suisui, is your cousin actually low-key or just a huge poser? This outfit is... well, just this set alone, not counting accessories, is a conservative estimate of sixty thousand yuan to start. And there’s a high probability it wasn't bought at a domestic counter; you’d have to be a VIP to get it early."
Sixty thousand.
To start.
Zhou Suisui’s breath hitched.
She lowered her phone mechanically, her gaze falling back onto the photo. The cream-colored knit set looked so soft, so harmless—like a warm cup of milk in the morning.
Sixty thousand.
That was the total of her four years of college tuition.
It was more than half a year’s salary if she didn't eat or drink.
It was nearly twenty times the price of the three-thousand-two-hundred-yuan velvet dress she had gritted her teeth to buy yesterday.
No, that wasn't right. Liu Weiwei said "sixty thousand to start." If you factored in accessories, or if it was sourced through overseas boutiques or VIP channels, the price could be even higher.
A cold, sharp chill rose from the soles of her feet, instantly sweeping through her entire body.
She had originally thought that the price Chen Boxu paid for Lin Xiao consisted of bags, face creams, and paid-off rent. That had been enough to shock her and ignite her ambition.
But now she realized that those were likely just the tip of the iceberg.
The real price was this kind of everyday clothing that she didn't even recognize but cost over half a year of her salary. It was the luxury of having a personal driver take you for a hair appointment just because someone casually mentioned "your hair needs a trim."
It was the power of a single phone call to have the latest season's styles delivered in colors that "suit you."
And here she was, Zhou Suisui, still aching over a thirty-two-hundred-yuan dress yesterday, still calculating how to make an appearance at a business banquet, still secretly comparing herself to Lin Xiao to see who was prettier or more worthy.
How ridiculous.
It was like someone holding toy poker chips wandering into a real casino, still feeling smug about the plastic pieces in their hand.
A slight movement came from the living room. Zhou Suisui snapped out of her trance and heard the sound of Lin Xiao walking, followed by the sound of the door opening and then softly clicking shut.
Lin Xiao had gone out.
The apartment fell into complete silence.
Zhou Suisui slowly walked back to the bed and sat down. Her phone screen was still on, and Liu Weiwei had sent two more messages:
[Your cousin’s figure is great though; she really has the class to pull that look off.]
[What, are you thinking of buying it? I’d advise you to forget it. This brand isn't for our level of spending. Just stick to looking.]
Zhou Suisui stared at those two lines, her fingers slowly tightening until her knuckles turned white.
Just stick to looking.
Liu Weiwei was right. At her current spending level, she didn't even have the right to look. She could only find out what things were by sneaking photos and asking others.
She needed money.
No, she didn't need money; she needed the kind of person who could easily provide that kind of price.
Someone like Chen Boxu.
That man’s cold, scrutinizing gaze from last night surfaced vividly in her mind.
Those pale amber eyes were like precision instruments, capable of calculating the value of an object in an instant.
And in his eyes, she—last night’s version of her—probably had a clear price tag on her, just like that sixty-thousand-yuan knit set.
The only problem was that her price tag was too low—so low that he didn't even have the interest to spare her a second glance.
Zhou Suisui stood up and walked to the wardrobe, pulling the door open. The burgundy velvet dress hadn't been delivered yet, but her gaze had already pierced through its absence, looking toward a place much further away.
A three-thousand-two-hundred-yuan dress was merely a stepping stone.
The door she intended to enter wasn't that of a common business cocktail party.
She wanted to enter the world behind that glass wall. The world that could make someone like Liu Weiwei gasp in awe. The world where Lin Xiao could nonchalantly step out to get a haircut wearing a sixty-thousand-yuan outfit.
Her phone vibrated again.
It was a message from Senior Wang: [Suisui, I’ve sent you the address for the party. Friday night at seven, don't be late. Remember to dress up; there will be some important figures there tonight.]
Zhou Suisui tapped on the message, looking at the name and address of the five-star hotel.
Then, she exited the chat and opened her conversation with Liu Weiwei, typing:
[Thanks, Weiwei. By the way, could you send me the WeChat contact for that boutique you mentioned you visit often? I want to see if they have any small accessories that might suit me.]
Sent.
She needed information, she needed channels, and she needed anything that could make her look more expensive.
Even if it was just an illusion.
A knock sounded at the door; it was a delivery.
Zhou Suisui took a deep breath and went to open it. Outside, the courier handed over an exquisitely packaged cardboard box.
She took it, closed the door, and tore it open.
The burgundy velvet fabric spilled out of the box, soft and heavy to the touch, casting a subtle luster under the indoor lights. She pulled it out, shook it open, and held it against herself in front of the full-length mirror.
The girl in the mirror had a lovely face and a graceful figure. The red dress made her skin look as white as snow, and the ambition in her eyes, framed by the velvet, actually took on a hint of ill-timed charm.
It was beautiful.
But it wasn't enough.
Zhou Suisui looked at her reflection, slowly raising her hand to let her fingertips glide across the delicate surface of the velvet.
What she needed wasn't a dress.
It was an opportunity—a chance to stand before Chen Boxu, or a man of his level, and force them to re-evaluate her worth.
Friday's party would be her first trial.
She was going to wear this three-thousand-two-hundred-yuan dress with the presence of a sixty-thousand-yuan gown.
And then, she would make the people of that world notice her.
