Just like Rinka predicted.

Wearing a mask, sunglasses, and a baseball cap while walking through the bustling crowds of Tianping Commercial District, I drew plenty of attention.

But no paparazzi showed up. Instead, I got stopped by the police—but thankfully, I had the foresight to bring the ID Haitang made for me. Crisis averted.

Overall, Tianping skews toward the higher end when it comes to spending, but there’s one exception: the underground shopping street. The independent vendors down there keep prices low to stay competitive.

Still, Rinka stopped me just as I was about to hop on the escalator heading down.

“Don’t go down there. We’re going to the brand-name shops upstairs.”

Seeing the hesitation on my face, Rinka slid one arm around my waist, lifted my chin with the other, and said in a deep, androgynous voice:
“Money’s no object, darling.”

I was stunned—was she… flirting with me? And then she gave me a gentle push onto the up escalator.

“At least let me try to pick cheaper stuff,” I mumbled. “I’d feel bad spending all your money.”

I mean, it’s true—I love a good bargain. But Rinka’s generosity? That doesn’t come cheap. As the saying goes, the hardest debts to repay are those of kindness.

“Sis Fei, is there anything you want to buy?” Rinka asked as we reached the second floor. “Aunt Huaying and little cousin Jing are coming tomorrow, right? Want to pick up a gift for them?”

Fei shook her head calmly. “All my money comes from Huaying now. Buying her a gift with her own money feels meaningless.”

“Sis Fei! You’re the least romantic person alive,” Rinka groaned, frustrated. “It’s about the thought!”

Honestly, how did someone this wooden ever manage to win over a rich girl from the Huangfu family back when he was just a chef?

I chimed in to help: “Even something simple like a nice dress or a pretty necklace—doesn’t have to be expensive. A thoughtful gift still makes people happy. And maybe some toys for your daughter… Barbie dolls, a magical girl costume set…”

“She’s twelve, you know?” Rinka cut in. “She’s not really into toys like that anymore.”

Wait, really? Girls grow out of those that fast?

I mean, even now I still love Gunpla and Kamen Rider belts!

“She’s thirteen this year,” Fei corrected. “Little Jing likes plushies. She used to beg me for a life-sized teddy bear. I never got around to buying her one.”

A teddy bear, huh? I glanced around but didn’t see any stores selling those. Though somewhere in this massive shopping maze, I’m sure we could find one.

Tianping is tailor-made for window-shopping. Its spiderweb-like skywalks connect multiple malls together, intertwining indoor and outdoor spaces. You can wander endlessly and still discover new paths.

Of course, that also makes finding a specific store nearly impossible. It’s basically a giant labyrinth.

And so, the shopping spree began.

I don’t know if it’s brand-name inflation or just that girls’ clothes are ridiculously expensive, but just looking at the price tags was enough to make me want to cry. Rinka, on the other hand, didn’t seem to care at all—she just kept buying and treating me like her personal dress-up doll. Every store we passed, she’d shove me into a fitting room to try stuff on for her. At one point, she even grabbed a bikini.

Luckily, that one wasn’t allowed to be tried on, or else she’d have succeeded.

Fei mostly stayed quiet, trailing behind us with a quiet but unmistakable presence. Occasionally, she’d try on something herself—probably hunting for a gift for her ex-wife.

She’s got her own sense of style, one that I think looks way better than Rinka’s cutesy taste. Probably thanks to her ex’s influence.

Then, while passing a boutique, we got approached by a guy who looked straight out of a host club.

He was dressed in a flashy tailcoat, with long black hair neatly behind him, save for a single lock artfully draped across his face. He was handsome, I’ll give him that—just… not my type. Wait, what am I even thinking?

“Excuse me, beautiful ladies,” he said, bowing with one arm across his chest. “Would you two be interested in doing a quick photoshoot for a fashion ad?”

So he wasn’t a host—he was scouting for models?

Oddly enough, he completely ignored Rinka, which made her puff her cheeks in annoyance.

“Hey! Aren’t there three of us here?”

Wait a sec—how did he even know I was a girl under these sunglasses and mask?

“Ah, terribly sorry, miss,” he said. “Our brand specializes in women’s fashion, and, uh… there’s a minimum standard for body shape…”

Oof. Rinka didn’t even meet the bare minimum. I quickly held her back before she could throw hands.

“Is this the store?” Fei asked.

I looked behind him. The sign said “Tony · Yang.” Honestly, I thought it was a hair salon.

“Yes! Tony · Yang is a world-renowned fashion designer,” he explained proudly. “His designs strike the perfect balance between style and practicality—great for everything from a date to a formal banquet.”

A brand named after a person feels a little… tacky.

“And your name is…?” Rinka cut in, eyes flashing with mischief.

“Uh… Yang.”

So you are Tony Yang!

His face turned bright red. So the guy had been shamelessly pitching his own brand in third person?

“Ahem… alright, you got me. I’m Tony Yang.”

He paused awkwardly, maybe waiting for the tension to pass.

“But the modeling offer is real,” he said. “The photos will go into our in-store catalog and on the storefront billboard. Of course, we’ll pay you—or if you prefer, you can pick any item in the store as compensation.”

Well he surely admitted he was the brand owner fast after it got busted.

So he’s not a total scam. And even I, a fashion noob, could tell the clothes here looked good. Either way, cash or free clothes sounds like a decent side hustle.

I glanced at Fei, unsure.

“I don’t mind. You decide,” she said simply.

So she’s not interested in the money, but willing to stick with me if I’m into it?

I turned to Rinka next.

“Why’re you looking at me? I can’t even be a model,” she huffed.

Right, she didn’t make the cut.

“We’re still high schoolers,” I said to Tony. “No skimpy outfits, okay?”

“No worries,” he said confidently. “I am more into designing concepts that emphasize the beauty of the clothes themselves.”

He led us inside and pulled a white dress with a shawl off the rack. “How about this?”

I don’t know much about women’s fashion, but it looked nice… I guess?

“Could the hem be shortened a little?” I asked, just on instinct.

“This dress is made to flow from top to bottom,” he explained. “There’s no defined waist, so if you shorten it, it loses its floaty feeling.”

So it’s meant to be… ghost-like?

He shook it a couple times and the memory-fabric skirt rippled eerily. Yep, definitely ghost dress vibes.

Honestly, this one’s perfect for Fei. With her long hair, she’d look scarier than Sadako.

“The actual outfit for the shoot isn’t here yet,” he said, “but it’ll be something along these lines.”

“Not here yet?” Rinka raised an eyebrow.

“It’s the new collection—only the sample exists, and it’s on the way as we speak. Should be here any minute.”

“So it’s for a new release?” she asked.

“Exactly. After the shoot, the sample goes to the factory to be replicated. Timing’s tight, so we couldn’t get professional models… but the pay will reflect that. You two absolutely fit the bill.”

“Oh? How much are we talking?”

He held up one finger. “A thousand.”

A thousand for a few photos?! Modeling gigs pay that well?

“Each,” he added.

“Wait, seriously? How much are your clothes, anyway?”

He flipped the price tag on the ghost dress. 1,999.

I stumbled backward in shock and bumped into Fei.

Tony Yang added, “We usually don’t sell at the tag price. Pricing depends on the customer, but a thousand for a dress is definitely sellable.”

Even a thousand is crazy!

“Are you really that surprised?” Rinka scoffed. “That’s not even luxury-tier. I’ve already spent over three grand on you today, Kai-chan.”

Even though she whispered it, I could feel every word slapping me with a stack of hundred-yuan bills. I’m just a broke high schooler! Damn these rich people!

“This humble girl can only repay such generosity… in the next life!”

“Idiot,” Rinka chuckled. “I was joking~ In terms of repaying gratitude, I owe you much more than money could ever repay.”

Thinking we were still discussing, Tony Yang stayed silent nearby—but the way he rubbed his hands gave away his nervous anticipation.

Rinka leaned in again. “You really wanna do this? Those photos will be on the store wall and in the catalog. Aren’t you scared of someone you know might see?”

That was a problem.

“Do I have to show my face?” I asked.

“Yes, you do,” Tony admitted. “But sunglasses are fine too. It might clash with the outfit though.”

“Do you have makeup?” Rinka asked.

“Of course.”

She confidently thumped her flat chest. “Then leave it to me. I guarantee no one will recognize you!”

Rinka’s makeup skills have long since transcended cosmetics—they’re in disguise territory now. I could trust her with this.

“Alright then. When do we start?”

Tony looked visibly relieved. He pulled out three lollipops like they were cigars and handed them out.

“You’re lifesavers. Feel free to relax in the store while we wait—the outfits will arrive before four, guaranteed.”

Four, huh?

I glanced at my phone. It was already 3:30.