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墨書 Inktalez
"What he means by 'there's a way' completely exceeded my expectations."
He made a call back to Milan directly.
Half an hour later, his Italian agent team contacted the top fabric restoration workshop in the area. A series of materials, including photos, stain composition analysis, and material descriptions, were sent over via encrypted email.
The proposal from their side was to immediately airlift a piece of velvet in the same material and color to Paris. At the same time, they would send two of the most experienced restorers to fly over overnight for on-site treatment.
Listening to him communicate fluently in Italian, with clear reasoning and an undeniable tone, I stood by like an outsider, unable to interject a single word.
After hanging up, he looked at me, his gaze still devoid of any emotion.
"It should arrive by tomorrow afternoon at the earliest."
"The restoration will take about five hours."
"We’ll make it."
He said it so casually, as if he had merely ordered takeout.
I opened my mouth to say something but found my throat felt blocked. This was no longer just a simple "favor."
Calling upon Milan's top resources, arranging overnight international air transport, and enlisting national treasure-level restorers... The connections and financial power behind this far exceeded my understanding.
Had he truly reached such heights now? The boy who once needed to work odd jobs for living expenses was really gone.
"Why are you helping me?" I finally regained my voice, though it came out dry.
He glanced at me for a moment, his expression complex before returning to indifference.
"If this outfit is ruined, it affects the entire show."
"I’m both the opening and closing model; I have a responsibility to ensure everything goes smoothly."
There it was again—this official line. He always managed to explain everything in a way that made perfect sense, leaving no room for doubt. It felt as if what remained between us was merely a pure professional relationship.
Liliane probably hadn’t expected him to go to such lengths; her face turned pale as she slipped away long ago. The looks from others backstage shifted too—from anticipation of drama to awe and curiosity. They were likely speculating about what our relationship with each other truly was.
I couldn’t be bothered to explain. There was nothing worth explaining anyway.
For the next while, I stayed almost glued to the suit, keeping a close watch over it. Ran didn’t leave either; he found a quiet corner, put on his headphones, and handled some work, occasionally coming over to ask about the progress of the repairs.
There was still little communication between us, but the invisible barrier seemed to be slowly melting away. While waiting for the Restorer to arrive, Ran's agent, a sharp and capable-looking woman named Linda, came over to chat with me for a moment.
She was polite, first apologizing for the unexpected situation, then subtly probing into my past with Ran.
“I heard from Lance that you two are old classmates?” Linda asked with a smile, her gaze sharp.
I nodded. “University classmates.”
“Just classmates?” she pressed further.
I hesitated, avoiding her eyes. “Yeah.”
Linda smiled again but didn’t pursue the topic any longer; instead, she shifted to discussing Ran’s development over the past few years. She recounted how difficult it was for him when he first arrived in Milan—language barriers, being ostracized, running from interview to interview day and night, going hungry, sleeping in basements…
She talked about how hard he was on himself, sticking to a diet of boiled chicken breast and vegetables year-round, working out for four hours every day without fail. She emphasized that his rise to stardom in just three short years wasn’t solely due to talent or luck; it was also about relentless effort and discipline.
I listened silently, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within me. I had never known these things about him. I only saw his glamorous present and never considered what he had sacrificed behind the scenes.
Linda seemed to notice the change in my expression and shifted her tone. “Actually, during that time when Lance first arrived in Milan, he wasn’t in a good state.”
“He often sat alone in silence and was distracted during training.”
“We all thought he was just struggling to adapt, but later we realized…” She paused and glanced at me meaningfully. “He had something on his mind.”
“It seemed… to be because of someone very important.”
My heart skipped a beat. Someone very important? Was it me? No way… He had left so decisively back then; how could he still…
Linda skillfully changed the subject, leaving me with endless space for contemplation.
"Alright, I won't disturb you any longer, Miss Xia. I'm going to check on Lance," she said gracefully as she stood up and left.
I watched her retreating figure, my mind a chaotic mess. What did Linda mean by that? Was she hinting at something? Could it be that Ran's sudden departure years ago had deeper implications? The knot that had been lodged in my heart seemed to loosen just a little.
But new questions began to surface. If it wasn't due to indifference, then what was the reason? I was desperate to know the answer, yet I hesitated to ask. I feared that the answer might completely overturn my understanding of the past three years. It could even make me look like a fool.
As I was lost in thought, Ran approached, holding two cups of coffee. He handed one to me.
"The Restorer has arrived," he said.
I took the cup, feeling the warmth radiate from my fingertips. Looking up at him, I noticed his eyes remained calm, but I thought I detected a subtle hint of... fatigue? Perhaps it was due to staying up late.
I lowered my head and took a sip of the coffee. It was bitter, but somehow it brought me an unexpected sense of calm.
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