Chapter 14: Ni Feihong’s Flights of Fancy

This time, Xiao Ma was especially resentful, provoked by Ni Feihong.

“Huh?”

A-Liang, who was preparing to pack up, paused. As a top dynamic photographer, A-Liang had the instinct to try and capture anything unexpected or rare on camera.

So, at the very moment when Xiao Ma, angry, turned to leave the stage, just as his profile came into view, there was a flurry of flashes—click, click, click, click—as A-Liang chased after Xiao Ma, snapping away, until the elevator doors closed behind him.

“Useless mud can't stick to a wall. Does he really think a handsome face can feed him?” After Xiao Ma left, Sister Yang Ling, with an expression of contempt, turned to her tasks.

It seemed Ni Feihong had made a mistake this time, but she immediately switched faces, mercilessly stopping herself at the cliff’s edge.

After Ni Feihong’s change of heart, there were quite a few big names and industry leaders she had blacklisted, sometimes with indiscriminate attacks—even nobodies sometimes caught her personal ban. Just now, for example, she had told Xiao Ma directly, “Go home and be a loser.”

Now, Chen Xiao had mixed feelings. Xiao Ma had risen so high in half an hour only to fall in a flash—it was such a pity.

Tao Zi found it quietly funny—this was how things should be; anything else would be most unfair to those with real ability.

Tao Zi was also somewhat disgruntled; she was supposed to follow Feng Chenchen into the Victoria category, and Chief Editor Wan had agreed. But because of that crazy guy making a scene, now both Chief Editor Wan and top model Feng Chenchen were suddenly out of the running?

What would happen next was unknown. Even if a new first-tier or a new category editor came in, everything would have to start over. Would Tao Zi be chosen? Who knew—everyone had a few “warriors” waiting in the wings, hoping for a chance; this was the way of a new regime bringing its own people.

On the evening roads, a low-key Lexus flickered between lanes.

Inside, a chubby man in his early thirties was having sex with supermodel Feng Chenchen on the back seat.

Afterwards, he lit a thick cigar and took a few puffs.

“Chenchen, what’s wrong? When you came to see me today, you were full of resentment, grinding your teeth—something’s off. Did Ye Gongmin upset you?” He put the cigar between his lips and pinched Feng Chenchen’s face.

Feng Chenchen was adept at reading men’s minds and keeping them wanting more. She replied lightly, “It’s nothing.”

As expected, this only piqued his curiosity. “I can read people—you’ve definitely had a rough time. And it’s not Ye Gongmin who made you angry. Why not talk to me? If Ye Gongmin can’t fix it, you still have me.”

Feng Chenchen feigned indifference. “It’s really nothing major, just a bit unlucky. Today at ‘Most Glamorous’ I ran into some trouble. No wonder—the fortune teller said I’d be plagued by petty people lately. Ended up arguing with a few rookies.”

The man said, “That can’t be. Ye Gongmin has such a temper—if a few nobodies annoyed you, why didn’t he deal with it?”

Feng Chenchen replied, “They’re just rookies. I don’t need anyone’s help—I can handle it myself. What’s infuriating is that Ni Feihong, I don’t know if she took the wrong medication or is just jealous of how popular and beautiful I am, maybe afraid she can’t control me. I didn’t do anything wrong, but she targeted me, threatened to blacklist me. I won’t starve without her, but I just can’t swallow this insult. And Ye Gongmin was even worse—afterwards I asked him to give Ni Feihong some trouble, and he said I was being unreasonable. Whose side is he on?”

At this, the man frowned, not responding immediately, narrowing his eyes as he smoked.

Feng Chenchen said, “Your father is the mayor of Haizhou, Young Master Jiang—surely you’re not afraid of Ni Feihong?”

Young Master Jiang frowned. “Afraid isn’t the word. It’s just, out in the world, it’s best not to clash head-on unless necessary. Harmony brings wealth.”

Feng Chenchen was in no hurry. After dressing, she elegantly crossed her legs and continued, “You’re right. I didn’t think it was a big deal either, just a bit of bad luck.”

“Alright then.” Jiang placed his hand on her knee and smiled. “I’m not one for drama; I can’t promise anything, but I’ll make a few calls, let some people know not to get too arrogant. Harmony is key.”

“You’re so gracious, Young Master Jiang,” Feng Chenchen said with a slight smile…

Meanwhile, Miki Ryuuzawa had finished work but didn’t dare leave. She sat timidly in the office, watching the Prada-wearing devil in heels.

Miki didn’t know exactly what had happened, but she’d heard that the efficiency-loving Ni Feihong had had her day ruined by someone, wasting an entire day’s work at this crucial time. Two big names were already out; she had to tread carefully.

Still, Miki admired the crazy guy—even he could rile up the devil in heels, not just bully her. That was something.

With that in mind, Miki quietly placed today’s magazine on Feihong’s desk.

After staring at the city’s nighttime traffic for a while, Ni Feihong, simmering with anger, suddenly turned and, spotting Miki, was about to pick a fight.

But then she noticed two magazines on her desk. On the whole, she wasn’t crazy—if she wanted to take it out on someone, she had to find an actual mistake. So she decided not to scold Miki.

She lifted her elegant hand to check her watch, then said, “You’re off. On your way out, have A-Liang come in—I want to talk about ‘static composition’.”

“Sure.” Miki slipped out without delay.

When A-Liang came in, he put down his camera and began animatedly discussing art with Ni Feihong.

Most of these theories were things she herself had taught him. In fact, she’d invited him in because she wanted another opinion.

So, as A-Liang talked, Ni Feihong listened absentmindedly, picking up his camera and scrolling through the photos.

When she was stuck for ideas, Ni Feihong liked to do this—by looking at more images, she’d gain more of a sense for visual beauty, and sometimes inspiration would strike.

“Hmm…”

At a certain moment, Ni Feihong stopped. Her gaze fixed on the shot of Xiao Ma’s profile as he turned away. It was obvious the man was seething with resentment, but it was just the right amount—not too much, not too little—the very dynamic effect Ni Feihong wanted.

“A bit of a pity, not quite perfect; this one’s a profile,” she remarked, hesitating, “But actually, being a profile gives it room for imagination—which is also good. I’ve always said I don’t make mistakes. That guy really does have his moments, though they’re hard to catch.”

She continued scrolling. The following shots were of Xiao Ma’s back as he left—also impressive, with a certain mood, though the background didn’t suit it, and there was no face. Not everyone would appreciate that kind of beauty.

So, Ni Feihong finally settled on the earlier profile shot. This was the most dynamic, set against the ideal background, captured naturally as he stepped down from the stage.

“This is the one. A-Liang, you didn’t let me down. No retouching; put it on the cover as is.” Ni Feihong made her decision.

A-Liang said, “It’s good, but the angle was unexpected, so the aperture and shutter speed are a bit off—it’s a little dark. I recommend tweaking the color in post.”

Ni Feihong shook her head. “No need. Just like this. I’m not going for a sunny look—his style has a touch of darkness, matched with the clothing, and since there’s no full face, it needs that underexposed feel. You stumbled into just the right effect.”

“Alright, if you’ve settled it, I’ll hand it off for production.” As A-Liang walked out, he suddenly stopped. “Um… Director Feihong, didn’t you just throw him out? This is his likeness—don’t we need his permission?”

Ni Feihong bit her finger uncertainly. “Do we?”

Several layout assistants in the office, as well as A-Liang, all felt like collapsing—this powerful woman could be so adorably clueless at times.

They all nodded awkwardly. “Technically, yes. If it’s not for profit, it’s fine; if it’s just an artist’s sketch and he’s in a public place, it’s okay. Our cover is a dream for many, but with his eccentric personality, there could be trouble.”

Ni Feihong hesitated. “I’m not afraid of trouble—I can handle it in minutes. I’m not trying to infringe on his rights, but time is tight. Everyone knows he’s a bit nuts—who knows how much nonsense we’d have to wade through to get his authorization?”

“So what do we do?” everyone asked.

Ni Feihong thought for a moment. “Anyway, I’m not stopping. We’ll put it on the cover first and sort out the paperwork later. I’ll work on him afterwards—he can’t escape my grasp; we live in the same building.”

Seeing everyone’s odd expressions, she hastily added, “Don’t get the wrong idea—we just live in the same community. I can convince him, and we’ll settle the contract and payment afterward.”

A legal staffer said, “I’m still worried there’ll be trouble.”

“It’s never as bad as you think,” Ni Feihong retorted. “We’re doing it my way. Even if there is trouble, it’s just controversy. First, I won’t admit we invited him—this is our ‘Most Glamorous’ studio, and this is what we do. If he was ‘wandering around’ and got photographed, it’s debatable. Second, it’s just a profile; ‘proving it’s him’ would take time—at the very least, A-Liang here can’t say for sure if it’s our model. Based on our studio policy, it shouldn’t be a big deal. Even if there’s a lawsuit, it’ll drag on for a year. By then, if we lose, we apologize, pull the cover, pay compensation—I’ll accept that.”

She paused. “Of course, that’s the worst-case scenario. I’m not refusing to pay him; I’ll handle it privately, get him to agree. I’m making this happen.”

That was her final word. With nothing more to say, the team handed the cover over to editorial for production…