Chapter 13: A Pot of Stew

After the pole was dismantled, it still wouldn't budge. In the end, Ni Feihong was out of options; she stopped, pondered, and said, "The heart of a strong one, is it?"

"Of course. I'm not afraid of any challenge," Xiao Ma reiterated.

"Let me ask you, are you willing to promise me one thing?" Ni Feihong's expression was inscrutable.

"Little KS, there's nothing I'm afraid to do," Xiao Ma replied, tapping his head again.

"Then obediently come with me." Ni Feihong stopped dragging him and turned, swaying her elegant steps toward the office.

"Alright." This time, Xiao Ma followed quietly.

Seeing that the eccentric man actually came along, Feihong's lips curled into a crooked smile. She had a vague sense that he was, in fact, quite a cheerful person—no wonder he was so unique.

As the two peculiar figures entered the office together, everyone in the venue was still standing with mouths half agape, utterly confused by the spectacle.

Chen Xiao and Tao Zi exchanged glances, still unable to comprehend, and said in unison, "What on earth is going on? What is the connection between this loser and the devil queen?"

...

Inside the spacious, brightly lit office, Ni Feihong stood with her back to Xiao Ma, gazing out at the busy traffic through the glass wall, lost in thought.

Since he was already here, Xiao Ma settled himself, not knowing what she intended. But he saw no need to ask. The strong never feared being alone with a woman in a closed space, even if her intentions were unknown.

From time to time, Xiao Ma couldn't resist glancing at her shapely behind. Unbeknownst to him, the cunning Ni Feihong, though appearing to stare out the window in a daze, had found an angle to exploit the dusk's reflection on the glass, secretly observing Xiao Ma's demeanor.

Now, Ni Feihong was troubled, suspecting she'd miscalculated. Even if the outfit fit him perfectly, this neurotic man's split personality was nothing like the vibe she wanted—impossible to capture in a photograph.

Especially the way he scanned her backside—not quite lewd, but even less suitable for shooting. It simply wasn't the feeling she was after.

"Do you want to appear on the most dazzling cover?" Ni Feihong suddenly turned to face him.

Had it been yesterday, Xiao Ma would have agreed, but today his "illness" was worse. He shook his head and said, "Why should I appear on your cover?"

Ni Feihong felt a surge of irritation, but she forced herself to be patient. "Don't you realize this is a shortcut to the top? Anyone I promote has never failed to make it big."

"The problem is, I'm already at the top. You're just a struggling pauper—why should I trust you?" Xiao Ma replied, his tone eccentric.

A faint shadow appeared on Ni Feihong's fair face.

Efficiency was her priority, so she didn't care much for the loser’s defiance. She still wanted to trick him onto the cover—everything else could be dealt with later. After all, skyscrapers are built one floor at a time.

"It's good to be steady, good to be bold. If you don't even dare to be on the cover, what else do you dare to do?" Ni Feihong said with a smile.

Xiao Ma tapped his skull again, smiling. "Alright."

Ni Feihong found it amusing and nodded seriously. "Now listen carefully so I can help you adjust your state to match the mood I envision."

Xiao Ma said, "Just so we're clear, once I've met your requirements, you have to give me your WeChat."

"Stop nagging. I'll give you my WeChat, QQ, phone, and email right now, whether or not you succeed. I'm not worried about you being a creep—I've had plenty of people send me harassing messages."

With that, she began to explain things in detail. She didn’t expect to turn him into a genius in one go; she didn’t even mention basic model skills, just focused on a certain feeling. In fact, explaining too much would only overwhelm him. Right now, she wanted him to produce a distinct vibe, different from the industry’s usual standards.

Strangely enough, this eccentric rookie’s comprehension was far greater than Ni Feihong had anticipated.

But his main problem was his lack of focus, even bordering on split personality—like a madman.

"Alright, that's enough. Saying more is pointless; everything is achieved through action. Get on stage and let the lights guide your mood." Ni Feihong coaxed him.

"Okay," Xiao Ma replied, eager to try.

"Excellent, at least you're not stage-shy." Ni Feihong led him out, adding, "You call yourself a strong one—try not to get KO'd in your first round."

"I hate losing," Xiao Ma said, looking every bit the naive rookie.

"I'm rooting for you—go for it." Ni Feihong casually fussed with his hair, then nudged him onto the stage.

Whether he would make it or not, who could say? If he failed, even without a contract, Ni Feihong would publicly declare him "banned," sweep him out the door, and bring in someone else to try, repeating the process until she got what she wanted.

But regardless, the place was in an uproar again.

Nearly everyone in the venue, hundreds of eyes, were drawn to this spot.

The devil queen in Prada was determined to put someone not even in the industry on the cover—a man with no basic skills. It was a phenomenon.

And the other top male models? Left standing idly by.

If Ni Feihong weren’t always like this, and didn’t have a loving boyfriend, many would suspect something was going on between her and Xiao Ma.

But there was more. Ni Feihong beckoned, "A Liang, come here. This kid's vibe is elusive, hard to capture. I need you to personally shoot that fleeting moment."

Another commotion!

It was even more outrageous. A Liang was the most trusted "resident sniper" among the top photographers, renowned for capturing dynamic moments. He was moved from another important session.

When A Liang arrived, he switched lenses to suit the event and subject, raised his camera, Xiao Ma tried to find a vibe, then A Liang lowered the camera, embarrassed. "It's difficult. He doesn't even have the basic audition moves or posture. I don't know where to start. I estimate dynamic shots won't work; we'll need static poses, repeated adjustments—the chances of success are higher this way."

Many secretly found it amusing. The photographer Ni Feihong trusted most, whose approval rates dominated the charts, saying this—surely things would calm down now.

But Ni Feihong said, "The difficulty is exactly why I called you. Static poses can be shaped, and what can be shaped can approach essence, but it's not essence. You can fudge content in post-production, but not the cover. I'm certain this rookie has some magical moments—they're rare, but real. I'll instruct, you capture. Understood?"

"Understood, understood, understood."

A Liang, resigned, conferred with his team. From different angles, four photographers began shooting with different lenses and settings.

Chen Xiao and Tao Zi watched with envy, jealousy, and resentment. This world is surreal—a rookie living with us, not even part of the industry, yet wearing an utterly ordinary outfit and enjoying this treatment?

Better than top-tier models. Feihong personally supervising and appointing photographers was exceedingly rare.

Even Yang Ling, whom they'd seen earlier, watched with silent resentment. In theory, she had no grudge against Xiao Ma, but the higher Feihong raised him, the more it proved her own judgment was wildly off, right?

How embarrassing. If she'd discovered this dark horse sooner and recommended him to Ni Feihong, wouldn't that be legendary?

"Watch him squander this opportunity with his terrible skills, and embarrass the devil queen."

Many in the audience were hoping for just that.

The lights were bright, the attention intense, but Xiao Ma showed no sign of stage fright.

Ni Feihong’s face grew darker; as Xiao Ma got more pleased with himself, what he displayed was nothing like what she wanted.

Laughter in the venue grew, signaling Ni Feihong’s patience was wearing thin—the more people laughed, the more her reputation suffered.

Xiao Ma, on the other hand, couldn’t care less. The more they laughed, the more smug he became, his smile ever brighter.

Ni Feihong's face grew even darker.

"Idiot, you’re making me lose face," she said irritably.

For some reason, Xiao Ma ignored the jeers of the other NPCs, but hearing this from Ni Feihong made a faint shadow flicker across his forehead, a hint of resentment.

"Hmm?"

This time, Ni Feihong paused, surprised: "Very good, that's the state—try going deeper."

But as soon as she praised him, Xiao Ma grew proud again, his smile radiant as sunshine.

Damn...

When Xiao Ma smiled, the devil queen’s resentment deepened. She thought, This isn't the sunny boy vibe I want—there are plenty of effeminate pretty boys like this, none fit to grace my cover.

Afterward, no matter how Ni Feihong threatened or tempted him, she couldn't get back that state.

She was nearly driven to collapse. Every time she tempted him, he grew smug; every time she threatened, he became dismissive. He even called her a pauper!

"Enough. Go home and be a loser—find your own way to the elevator," Ni Feihong finally lost patience and turned to leave.

This loser... How dare he...

This time, seven or eight dark lines appeared on Xiao Ma’s face all at once.