Limited-Time Attachment - Chapter 1

Two o’clock in the afternoon. The brilliant midsummer sunlight filtered through the glass of the conservatory, where roses bloomed in a riot of intense colors, their fragrance saturating the air.

An embroidered pillow with golden tassels had fallen onto the Persian rug. The creamy-white classical European sofa sat askew, as if its owner had risen in such a hurry that they accidentally kicked it out of place.

The space exuded a warm, honeyed laziness, all it lacked was a little princess to lean in and sniff the blooming petals.

The “princess” in question was currently occupied, touching up her makeup.

The dreamy pink princess dress overflowed, spilling across the floor. Sweet features were currently distorted by a furrowed brow, betraying a hint of arrogant cruelty. The makeup artist tasked with the “princess’s” face could only proceed with extreme caution, silently cursing their own bad luck.

A floor manager standing far outside the shooting area took one look, shook their head, and walked away.

That one is truly difficult to serve.

The semi-open pantry offered a pleasant environment. An assistant floor manager brewed a cup of tea and finally breathed a sigh of relief. Working for “Yuexi” Studio certainly paid well, but the jobs were exceptionally grueling.

Take this session, for example, the hired model was a rising star who had recently taken the domestic modeling world by storm.

Big fame, bigger temper, it was enough to wear anyone down.

Before the tea was half-finished, a makeup assistant walked in, looking thoroughly disgruntled.

“You finished?”

“Hardly,” the makeup assistant replied, pouring a glass of water with an irritated huff. “It’s all up to Her Ladyship. Whether we’re busy or not depends entirely on her whim.”

The floor manager gave a bitter smile. “Business hasn’t been great these past two years, everything is in a slump. It’s not easy to land a major contract like this.”

The makeup assistant frowned, stating indignantly, “If it weren’t for that… but she is just too much to handle!”

“Shh,” the floor manager cautioned, cutting the assistant off before pivoting the conversation. “How are the performance numbers on your end this quarter?”

“Dropped quite a bit,” the assistant admitted helplessly. “This series for Yuexi is already the biggest gig we’ve landed this season.”

The floor manager seemed at a loss for words, offering only a pale comfort: “Look on the bright side, at least you got to see Song Ming this time. I didn’t expect they’d be able to get her for this series. It’s my first time seeing her in person up close.”

The makeup assistant’s eyes lit up instantly. “I didn’t expect it either. She’s honestly so beautiful, thin waist, long legs like she stepped right out of a painting. I wouldn’t even dare Photoshop someone to look that good. Everyone calls her ‘Teacher Song.’ I don’t know much about photography, but there probably aren’t many photographers in the country who can compete with her. It doesn’t even look like she’s doing anything special, but the shots she takes are just… different. She really is the ‘hidden treasure’ photographer the boss of Yuexi keeps tucked away.”

The floor manager’s interest piqued. “You’ve had more contact with her, what’s she like?”

The assistant’s previous resentment vanished, replaced by excitement. “She has a great temperament. She doesn’t talk much, but she’s very easy to get along with. Even if she disagrees with something, she doesn’t lose her temper. How do I put it…”

The assistant blushed slightly. “She just feels… very ‘pampering’…”

The floor manager’s eyes widened. “Do tell.”

“Oh, it was because of that ‘princess’ again,” the assistant said, her annoyance returning as she thought of today’s model. “This morning, while I was doing the base makeup, she was dissatisfied with everything. She insisted my technique was wrong and that the foundation wasn’t sitting right, which led to my mentor scolding me in front of everyone. There were so many people there, but only Teacher Song noticed I was upset. She pulled me aside later to comfort me and even bought me a coffee.”

As the assistant blushed again, the floor manager instantly empathized, cupping their face and murmuring, “That really is very ‘pampering’.”

The “pampering” treasure photographer, Song Ming, was currently dozing in a woven bamboo armchair. A black bucket hat was pulled down over her face, concealing a visage that could take one’s breath away. Her long, slender legs, clad in cargo pants, were casually half-curled.

For some reason, the set suddenly became noisy.

As the commotion reached Song Ming’s corner, the wide brim of her hat shifted slightly.

Hidden beneath the hat, Song Ming let out a soft sigh. A slender, well-defined hand lazily gripped the hat and tossed it aside. Her eyes opened half a beat late, the light refracting off her irises to reveal grey-green eyes that flickered toward the source of the noise.

She was of Southern European descent, with hair as black as ebony that shimmered in the sunlight. As she turned her head, her thick, long lashes cast a shadow across the bridge of her nose.

Her gaze swept over to find Ruan Jinjin, the rising model who looked as fragile as a crystal doll under the lens, standing before a group of staff with her arms crossed. Her sharp chin was tilted arrogantly, her expression overbearing.

“I never take sugar in my afternoon tea! What is wrong with your staff? Don’t they know my habits? My sugar intake for today has seriously exceeded the limit because of them!”

The venue manager apologized profusely. “I’m so sorry, Miss Ruan. We really didn’t expect this to happen. It was indeed a lapse on our part.”

“I don’t want to hear ‘sorry’! I want a solution!”

Seeing that Ruan Jinjin wasn’t going to let it go anytime soon, Song Ming gave up on sleeping. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed her hat to the side and leaned her head back, watching Ruan Jinjin’s relentless display with a touch of amusement.

“This was indeed a mistake by the staff,” the venue manager continued. “However… every teacher has different dietary habits, and the workload is quite heavy. Miss Ruan, you could have checked before deciding to eat it, our staff can make adjustments at any time.”

“What is that supposed to mean? Am I expected to distract myself with such trivialities after a full day of work?” Ruan Jinjin’s voice turned shrill. “Afternoon tea is one of my few rest periods, and now it’s become a burden!”

The noise drew the attention of the client’s representative.

The campaign only featured five models in total, and Ruan Jinjin was the only one whose aura perfectly matched the product. The designer had specifically chosen her to interpret the flagship piece of the collection.

If Ruan Jinjin wasn’t handled properly and her temper affected the final result, the representative would have a hard time answering to both ends.

It was just a meal, to the representative, it wasn’t a problem as long as Ruan Jinjin was appeased. They didn’t care how the matter was settled.

The young girl who had ordered the tea realized she was about to be fired over this one small mistake. She stood there, trembling on the verge of tears.

Song Ming’s indifferent gaze traveled between the people at the center of the dispute. She stared at the girl’s reddened eyes for a few seconds and thought to herself: This is so tedious.

“Aren’t we starting yet?” Song Ming stood up, interrupting the conversation.

Ruan Jinjin, the venue manager, and the representative all paused and looked toward her.

“The equipment, the venue,” Song Ming asked absentmindedly, hands in her pockets. “Are these not ready yet?”

“Ready right away, right away,” the representative stammered, realizing who they had been neglecting. They immediately tried to make amends. “Sorry, Teacher Song, we’ll be in position immediately.”

The representative turned to usher the others, urging the staff to finish prepping the set as quickly as possible.

“Don’t miss the light I want,” Song Ming added nonchalantly.

“Understood, don’t you worry,” the representative called back while scurrying away, offering an apologetic smile.

Song Ming gave a noncommittal nod, leaned against the side, and lit a long, thin cigarette. The mist of smoke curled around her grey-green eyes, drifting softly past her lashes before vanishing into silence.

The chaos of the set didn’t seem to touch her; she possessed a natural stillness that set her apart from the crowd.

Song Ming was tall, with a bone structure broader and more elegant than the average girl. A heavy-looking biker jacket pressed against her grey crew-neck top, revealing a long, pale neck and the sharp curve of her collarbone. The supple skin stretched over the bone, creating a hollow that hinted at a hidden, warm sensuality beneath the fabric.

The young girl who had escaped the ordeal approached timidly to thank her. She glanced up, and her face instantly flushed red.

Song Ming looked down slightly, noting the girl’s soft, rounded facial features.

“It’s nothing,” Song Ming said, resting her hand briefly on the girl’s head in a casual gesture. “Go play outside for a bit.”