PNB Chapter 1719 Ghost
Chapter 1719 Ghost
Nan Weiwei has already made progress, but Xiao Mei is not. She is a newcomer with little experience and is under too much pressure.
The pen tip pressed too hard, leaving a harsh cracking sound on the sketch paper.
The lead core broke, and black powder splattered onto the newly drawn lines, like an unsightly scar.
Xiao Mei stared at the ruined drawing, feeling a tightness in her chest. She ripped the paper off, crumpled it into a ball, and slammed it hard into the trash can at her feet.
The trash can was already full. The crumpled paper rolled out, bounced twice on the ground, and then stopped moving.
This is the thirtieth one.
Still not right.
It completely lacked the charm that Xu Xiaoxiao described.
The harsh white lighting in the design department was so bright it made my eyes sting.
It was already 2 a.m., and the entire floor was empty except for the low hum of the central air conditioning.
Outside the glass door, a cleaning lady pushed her cart past, glanced inside, shook her head, and walked away.
That single glance contained so much.
Sympathy? Mockery? Or just watching the spectacle unfold?
Xiao Mei grabbed the cold coffee on the table and took a sip; the bitter taste burned down her throat and into her stomach.
Lu Feng forced her into the design department, and the atmosphere in the entire department became frighteningly tense.
Those senior designers were polite on the surface, but their gossip behind the scenes was as insidious as needles.
"Has Mr. Lu lost his mind this time, bringing in a vase to worship?"
"Shh, they're skilled; we can't compare."
"Just wait and see. This competition will be a true test, and it will be President Lu who loses face."
She heard those words.
It is precisely because we heard it that we cannot afford to lose.
Participation is the most important thing?
Rankings don't matter?
That's an excuse for losers.
Despite the pressure from Dong, Lu Feng went to great lengths to pave the way for her, even using his personal power to place her in this position.
If she can't even get a nomination, all of Lu Feng's previous efforts will become ammunition for others to attack him.
She couldn't let Lu Feng become a laughing stock.
She must win this competition.
Not for the prize money, but simply to slap that ticket in the face of those skeptics and tell them:
Xiao Mei stands here because of her abilities, not because she's Lu Feng's bed partner.
but……
Reality is as cold and hard as a stone.
No matter how I revised the design drafts, they all felt stiff and unrefined, lacking the effortless dynamism of Xu Xiaoxiao's work.
Xu Xiaoxiao is a naturally gifted artist; she can create stunning works with just a few strokes.
And she could only manage to make it "neat" no matter how hard she tried.
Is this the difference?
Xiao Mei's fingernails dug into her palm, and the pain brought her back to her senses.
No.
Fighting it out on our own won't work; we need to find outside help.
Who should I contact?
Xu Xiaoxiao has already helped her revise two versions; continuing to look for more would only make her seem incompetent.
Landwind?
No, Lu Feng doesn't understand design, and he's been incredibly busy lately with the company's IPO. We can't bother him with this kind of thing.
A name suddenly popped into my mind.
Ye Junhao.
That man who supposedly wields immense power in Haicheng and reportedly owns numerous luxury brand agency rights,
If it were him, he would definitely have access to top-tier design resources, or... even just a few pointers?
Ye Junhao once said that they were also friends.
Xiao Mei grabbed the phone; the bright light from the screen stung her retina, which was adapted to darkness.
She clicked on the black profile picture, her finger hovering above the input box, hesitant to drop it.
When asking someone for a favor, you must have the right attitude.
After much editing and deletion, only one line of text was sent in the end:
[Mr. Ye, I apologize for bothering you. I'm preparing for this emerging design competition and have encountered some difficulties. I've heard you're very familiar with the fashion industry, could you... offer some guidance? Or do you have any relevant materials I could refer to?]
Sent successfully.
Time passed second by second.
The phone was as silent as a brick.
Xiao Mei stared at the screen, her heart beating a little fast.
Will Ye Junhao reply?
Someone like him should either still be socializing or already resting at this time.
Wouldn't you think she's arrogant and ignorant?
five minutes.
ten minutes.
My phone suddenly vibrated.
Xiao Mei practically lunged forward and grabbed the phone.
Four simple words appeared on the screen, without even punctuation.
[I'm powerless to do anything about it. As one of the shareholders of the organizer, it's not convenient for me to say anything.]
Cold and aloof, with an air of indifference that keeps people at arm's length.
They couldn't even be bothered to come up with an excuse.
Xiao Mei's knuckles turned white as she gripped her phone.
Powerless?
How could the president of the prestigious Ye Group, who holds resources in half of the fashion industry, say "I am powerless" to help a newcomer?
Oh.
They probably don't want to help.
Or perhaps he felt that Lin Xiaomei had no investment value whatsoever and wasn't worth wasting even a second of his time on.
Also.
In the eyes of capitalists like Ye Junhao, there is no difference between people and commodities.
Only Lu Feng would be willing to spend resources on someone as worthless as her, regardless of the cost.
Xiaomei threw her phone back onto the table with a dull thud.
A deep sense of powerlessness welled up, instantly overwhelming the fighting spirit I had just had.
Ye Junhao didn't think highly of her.
Is she really not good enough?
Is she really only fit to be a canary hiding under Lu Feng's wings?
My gaze fell on the crumpled pieces of paper scattered on the ground.
Those distorted lines seemed to be mocking her overestimation of her abilities.
Give up?
Quit now, just make up some excuse, say you're not feeling well, or you're experiencing a creative block?
Will Lu Feng be disappointed then, and then what?
Continue to be a nobody in the design department, enduring those subtle, yet unspoken, disdainful glances every day?
No.
no way.
Xiao Mei suddenly stood up, the chair scraping against the floor with a screeching sound.
There must be another way.
There must still be a road ahead.
Since the right path is blocked, let's take the unorthodox path.
Since we can't even bow down to someone as powerful as Ye Junhao, let's find a true god.
She could only contact a ghost, an online friend she had never met.
After Xiaomei refused his invitation to meet up last time, he never contacted her again, and Xiaomei almost forgot about him.
She remembered this person; he was always incisive, criticizing new designers mercilessly, yet always able to come up with brilliant revisions.
When Xiaomei first met him, she posted a naive sketch, prepared to be criticized.
The only reply was one sentence:
The structure is terrible, but the colors are interesting.
A revised line drawing was then attached.
That line drawing is still stored in Xiaomei's cloud drive.
With just a few strokes, she transformed her originally mediocre design into something incredibly dynamic; the sense of space and the fluidity of the lines were simply masterful.
She wanted to become his apprentice, but he ignored her.
They kept in touch frequently after that, all because of what happened last time...
in case……
If we can find him, we'll definitely be able to see where the dead end lies in her design.
A master like this doesn't need any resources at all; he is the resource himself!
If he's willing to help modify just one image, the gold medal in this competition is practically his for the taking.
Xiao Mei logged into their forum and found that it had been shut down.
Xiaomei remembered another way to contact her: her email address.
Xiaomei sat back down at the computer, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she retrieved the email address.
The heart was pounding violently inside the chest cavity.
It's a big gamble.
I bet that email address is still in use.
I bet that arrogant "ghost" still remembers her.
I'm betting he'd be willing to waste a little time on a stranger.
If you don't reply...
Then it's really over.
Xiao Mei took a deep breath, her lungs expanded, and she forced herself to calm down.
She opened the email editor and skipped the usual empty pleasantries.
For a tech fanatic like him, nonsense will only annoy him.
She uploaded the entire competition theme, along with her draft that she had revised thirty times.
The main text contains only one sentence:
I want to win. Save me this once, and name your price.
Click send.
The screen displays "Email delivered".
Next, it's up to fate.
Xiao Mei slumped in her chair, staring at the time in the lower right corner of her computer screen.
3:15 a.m.
Waiting is a form of torture.
Every second felt infinitely long.
She even started to hallucinate, thinking that the computer was making notification sounds, but when she looked, there was nothing there.
What if he also replies with "I can't do anything about it"?
Or perhaps it simply disappeared without a trace?
The fear of someone about to drown, grasping at a last straw, gripped her throat.
"Ding."
A crisp notification sound rang out in the quiet office.
Xiao Mei shuddered and sat up abruptly.
A black envelope icon pops up in the bottom right corner of the screen.
From: "Ghost"
So fast?!
Is it an automatic reply?
Xiao Mei's hands trembled as she opened the email.
There are no words.
There is only one attachment.
The file name is: [Garbage Recycling.jpg]
Xiao Mei's heart was in her throat.
Waste recycling?
Is this a sarcastic jab at her design as garbage?
She gritted her teeth and double-clicked to open the attachment.
The moment the image loaded, Xiao Mei's pupils suddenly contracted.
That was a picture.
It was a revision based on her original manuscript.
No, it can't be called modification.
It is a reshaping.
All the original complex and cumbersome lines were removed, leaving only the core skeleton. Then, with an extremely bold and wild brushstroke, a crack was added to the side.
That crack instantly brought the entire design to life.
The once lifeless jewelry has been transformed into a heart that is breaking, yet is being reborn from the ashes.
The overwhelming impact was so powerful that it sent shivers down your spine even through the screen.
That's what a master is.
This is the realm she has been searching for but has never been able to reach!
At the bottom of the email, there is a line of small print, so small that it is easy to miss if you don't look closely:
See you tomorrow night at 8 PM. Bring your brain.
The tone was arrogant and condescending, yet impossible to refute.
Why does this feel so familiar?
Xiao Mei stared at the line of text, countless thoughts flashing through her mind.
Before she could figure it out, the office door was suddenly pushed open.
Who's there?
The security guard's flashlight shone brightly, blinding Xiaomei, who instinctively raised her hand to shield her eyes.
"It's me, working overtime." Xiaomei adjusted her eyes to the light and lowered her hand.
The security guard recognized her, lowered his flashlight, and said in a less than friendly tone, "What's going on with the lights off in the middle of the night? You scared me to death."
After saying that, the security guard muttered something and turned to leave, but suddenly stopped, looked back at her, and gave her a strange look.
"Oh, right, someone downstairs just asked me to give this to you."
The security guard took an envelope out of his pocket and casually tossed it on the table.
"That guy was dressed like a secret agent, wearing sunglasses. Wasn't he afraid of falling to his death in the middle of the night?"
Xiao Mei was stunned.
downstairs?
It's 3:30 a.m.
Who would deliver a letter to her at this time?
She picked up the envelope.
The envelope was plain black, without a postmark or signature.
The envelope was sealed with red sealing wax, on which was printed a strange pattern.
A burning... scorpion?
Xiao Mei's fingertips touched the sealing wax; it was icy cold.
She glanced at the computer screen instinctively.
On the screen, in the bottom right corner of the design drawing sent by the ghost, in that inconspicuous corner.
It was clearly printed with an identical red scorpion.
In an instant, a chill ran up my spine and straight to the top of my head.
Is the ghost downstairs?
Or rather...
He's been watching her the whole time?