021 Guests are coming

If you are a woman, and you do not know Wen Maixue, you can randomly open a fashion magazine in Mo Country, and within the first ten pages, you will definitely see a style recommended by socialite Wen Maixue.

If you are a man, and you do not know Wen Maixue, you can check out the annual Feng Busi rankings at the end of the year, titled "Top Ten Socialites Who Can Save Men Twenty Years of Hard Work". Note that marrying Su Ziceng can also save twenty years of struggle (only those noted as socialites, like Su Ziceng who have the financial background of a socialite, but not the inner qualities of one, are not selected), Wen Maixue has been ranked in the top five since she was fourteen.

In summary, after Su Ziceng's 18th birthday ceremony, she had encountered Wen Maixue numerous times, either coincidentally or not, their conversations were none, but they made eye contact once.

They made eye contact once because, at a fashion show, they inadvertently fancied the same set of clothes. After seeing Su Ziceng's admiring gaze, Wen Maixue, with a sub-luminal speed, immediately turned her gaze into a look of disdain.

Thus, in Su Ziceng's memory, her impression of Wen Maixue has always lingered on Wen Maixue's high nose bridge and the nostrils beneath it, and also on the elegantly written elegiac couplet at Su Qingzhang's funeral.

"I know," Su Ziceng replied reluctantly, Wen Maixue, true to her name, was perpetually pristine snow that never touched the ground, while she, Su Ziceng, was like vulgar mucus spat upon, despised in the snow's eyes.

"She's also a freshman at Kelly Women's College," added Mr. Pello, seemingly undermining Su Ziceng's confidence nonchalantly.

"I'm going there to study, not to socialize," Su Ziceng replied with a tone filled with disgust, when the glass door of "Admiration" was pushed open, and as clients stepped in, her unfriendliness melted away like snow in sunshine, and she cheerfully went to greet them.

"How much salary did you give her," Mr. Pello watched as Su Ziceng had turned into a grinning fool, the word generous seemed to be absent from Sister Mu's dictionary.

"I don't know why she was so happy, she just received her first month's salary yesterday," Sister Mu thought, as she handed that moderately thick purse to Su Ziceng last night, who was excited and continuously expressing her gratitude, repeatedly asking if it was really for her. Both Sister Mu and Mr. Pello found it hard to understand the emotions Su Ziceng felt when she received her first paycheck.

"I used that 'vase' for the flowers, and it just so happened that an important guest from the Wen family took a liking to it," Mr. Pello left this remark and added: "A very important guest."

Sister Mu knew that a very important guest was expected these days, but whether the guest was male or female, Mr. Pello did not say, anyway, it was Su Ziceng's own business.

In the following days, Mr. Pello did not visit again, and Su Ziceng also asked Sister Mu several times about it, getting rebuked in the process.

As the day for the beginning of the school year at Kelly Women's College in September drew closer, there was still no news about Su Ziceng's recommendation, and as the start of school approached, "Admiration's" business was booming more than ever, often keeping Su Ziceng so busy that she hardly had time to eat.

That day, after attending to three consecutive waves of customers, she finally found a moment to take a sip of water, when an elderly woman pushed the door and entered.

The clients in "Admiration" varied greatly, and Su Ziceng had seen some with peculiar tastes, but when this elderly woman entered, even Sister Mu was a bit slow to react.

In the scorching heat of August, those who entered the street had lost all decorum, and by the time they stepped through the door, they were only a tick away from panting like dogs. However, the old lady felt no trace of heat, even wearing a pair of gloves, velvety and trimmed with lace—a layer of silk flowers connected tightly to the high-waisted black silk skirt she wore, as if the entire person was sewn into a large tablecloth.

Oddly, the old woman did not sweat, and her hair was neatly styled into a bun as if she were a 16th or 17th-century court lady transported into Zone 5's "Admiration" in modern attire.

Faced with such an old woman, both Sister Mu and Su Ziceng were at a loss for how to greet her.

"Is this your way of hospitality?" the old lady found a low rack used for assorted items and sat down, looking as if she were sitting on the softest cushion from the expression on her face.

"Red... red tea," Sister Mu foreboded, realizing that the person mentioned by Mr. Perro, the one Su Ziceng was waiting for, was indeed this old lady.

Su Ziceng was startled again because Sister Mu actually instructed her to serve red tea, not wine. At that moment, Su Ziceng had no awareness of the opportunity slipping right before her eyes; what she did was merely craft a cheap instant tea bag into something resembling fine Sri Lankan red tea.

"Thank you," the old lady, after receiving the tea, though not satisfied with it, did not immediately set it aside. Instead, she scanned around "Admiration" with a critical eye and quickly noticed that the delicate vase she had seen at Kelly Women's College a few days ago was now housing... bottles of alcohol.

"I find what I see now differs from what I heard. Mr. Perro's 'vase' turns out to be purchased from here," the old lady raised an eyebrow, realizing the truth about the "vase," and she put down her tea cup and stood up, "I thought that your actions desecrated the flowers placed in that 'vase.'"

Her tone carried a hint of contempt, also reflecting dissatisfaction for misjudging the situation earlier. The old lady was an authentic European socialite, who found women who indulged in excessive drinking vulgar and tasteless.

Upon hearing this, Sister Mu's expression grew uncomfortable; had it not been for Su Ziceng's benefit, she wouldn't allow this peculiar and outlandish old woman to spout nonsense and dare call her vulgar on her own turf.

"This old lady," Su Ziceng sniffed the scent of gunpowder, but she was also irritated by the old woman's offensive tone.

"Miss! Please address me as 'Miss,'" the old woman's light grey eyes grew more disgruntled, such rude children, indeed only Mai Xueur from the Wen family in Mo City possessed a semblance of a socialite's demeanor; her lady's taste was always impeccable, only she wondered why this time's ball was proposing new ideas.

"Personally, I think that such a manner of address, like you yourself, is very ill-mannered," the old lady emphasized again.

"I won't deny, I lack manners because the one who was supposed to teach me died when I was born. Also, please watch your language. Because, the owner of the shop you are standing in, Ms. Zimu, constantly teaches me to respect others' 'appropriate personal style' under any circumstances," Su Ziceng finished in one breath, only to discover with surprise that the old woman and Sister Mu both had a change in their expressions.

Of course, these words weren't taught by Zimu; rather, Su Ziceng had realized them herself over the past month and a half.

But it was indeed the phrase "appropriate personal style" that surprised these two ladies of different ages and from different countries, both rich in social experience. Such words coming from the mouth of an eighteen-year-old girl undoubtedly had a shocking effect.