Limited-Time Attachment - Chapter 13

Ji Shan sat cautiously to one side, observing Song Ming lead the work.

Jiaxin was a major company under the Zhongshi International Group, their collaboration with Yuexi was essentially a downward extension for them.

Ji Shan had originally insisted on coming along, thinking that while Song Ming appeared easygoing, she actually possessed a volatile temper, and he would need to mediate. To his surprise, he didn’t get the chance.

Everyone there treated Song Ming with immense courtesy, even a hint of dread, as if everyone knew exactly who she was. Ji Shan could tell they were still accustomed to calling her “President Song.”

A sense of unease began to creep over Ji Shan. Perhaps he hadn’t realized how staggering Song Ming’s background was simply because he hadn’t climbed high enough yet. Even though he knew she came from a prominent family and was exceptionally capable, he hadn’t imagined her status was this illustrious.

Over half a year ago, he had seen Song Ming’s work in a mediocre magazine. He immediately realized she was the real deal, her photos among the sea of filler and amateur work were like gold dropped in sand.

Knowing the editor in chief, Ji Shan immediately secured her contact information. When the call connected, a clear female voice answered with total indifference: “Hello?”

Ji Shan hadn’t taken it personally, artists were entitled to their temperaments. Without a bit of edge, it wouldn’t feel right, it would be too pedestrian.

When Ji Shan explained his intent, the woman on the other end seemed surprised, repeating with a light laugh: “Looking for me? To be a photographer?”

“Yes,” Ji Shan remembered how his ignorant bravery had made him answer so decisively.

Song Ming hadn’t said much. She asked where his studio was and its current stage of development, finally adding nonchalantly, “I guess that’s fine.”

She had agreed so casually that Ji Shan thought he was being stood up. To his surprise, she showed up the next day with her credentials and a business proposal, telling him: “I don’t stay at mediocre companies.”

Thinking back, Ji Shan sat by the set and covered his eyes helplessly.

How had he not noticed something was off back then? What normal person starts a photographer job interview with a corporate strategic proposal?

The clock on the wall struck twelve, it was time for a break.

Song Ming stayed alone in the quiet, secluded pantry, unhurriedly operating the coffee machine. Too many people here recognized her, and their probing gazes followed her constantly, which she found irritating.

Maybe this wasn’t worth the effort, Song Ming thought, frowning as she waited for her coffee. Why am I wasting my energy on these fools?

Aside from Zhou Jibai, the only ones who would oppose her were the two sons of the Song family or the Zhongs. The Zhong family seemed to be undergoing internal shifts recently, they were too busy to bother with her.

That left the two Song brothers.

Song Ming asked herself and felt she had been quite generous. She could have easily run the Song Group into the ground and left the country to continue being “President Song” elsewhere. But she hadn’t. She had only given the Song family a slight lesson.

She had yielded to this extent, yet the Songs still didn’t know how to be grateful?

Truly ungrateful.

Outside the pantry, the distant noise of the crowd felt indistinct. The morning staff went to grab lunch while the stagehands cleared the equipment. As a stagehand passed the monitor, something caught the light and flashed in his eye.

The stagehand shielded his eyes and looked down to see a stainless steel watch, a classic Chanel.

“I think this belongs to President Song…” The stagehand picked up the watch and looked around, but Song Ming was nowhere to be found.

He grabbed a passing assistant photographer: “Have you seen Ms. Song Ming? I think she left her watch here.”

The assistant blinked, scanned the area, and scratched his head. “Weird, she was just here a second ago.”

The stagehand frowned, looking at the watch in his hand. “What should we do? Can the assistant director find her?”

“Give it to me,” a clear voice interrupted. A fair, slender hand reached out toward the stagehand.

Song Ming walked out of the pantry with her coffee, planning to find a quiet restaurant to hide away. Just as she crossed the threshold, a woman in an elegant long coat caught her eye.

The beauty had dark brown hair cascading in curls over her shoulders, her coat partially veiling the graceful curves of her dress. Her eyes were exceptionally bright, shimmering like sunlight on water.

Yu Zhaowan. The female lead for this commercial shoot.

The expression on Song Ming’s face tightened slightly. She avoided those beautiful eyes and focused instead on Yu Zhaowan’s small, delicate nose.

“I guessed you’d be here.” The beautiful woman shook her wrist, making something in her hand glint.

Song Ming didn’t look at the object. She lowered her gaze and asked, “How did you find me?”

“I guessed,” Yu Zhaowan said playfully, her expression full of natural charm. “I noticed you like quiet places, and this is the time when there are fewest people here.”

Song Ming didn’t move. Her brow furrowed slightly as she looked at Yu Zhaowan with a gaze that bordered on scrutiny.

Yu Zhaowan seemed a bit thick-skinned, unbothered by Song Ming’s cold stare. She walked briskly toward Song Ming and opened her palm to reveal the watch. “Here.”

The sunlight was intense. As Yu Zhaowan approached, her skirt seemed to dance in the light, and the shadows in the room shattered and reformed.

Song Ming withdrew her gaze from the shadows on the floor and slowly took the watch from Yu Zhaowan’s palm. Her grey-green eyes met Yu Zhaowan’s. “Thank you. Where did you find it?”

Yu Zhaowan felt as if she were looking into a deep emerald lake. Suddenly flustered, she looked away first. “Uh, you… you left it by the monitor.”

“I see,” Song Ming replied noncommittally. Then she added a compliment: “The bridge of your nose is very beautiful.”

Yu Zhaowan was stunned, then laughed. “You’re so strange. Everyone else compliments my eyes.”

The eyes were indeed beautiful, but they were too different. Song Ming gave a light smile. “I’m more credible. I’m a professional photographer.”