novellhall Chapter 34: Politely Declining the Female Demon's Invitation
Chapter 34: Politely Declining the Female Demon's Invitation
Fan Binbin was left speechless, both amused and exasperated by his mother's reaction.
But she also knew that her mother was showing concern for her daughter.
The reason is that I saw a photo of myself that showed a sense of brokenness.
This also made Fan Binbin realize.
This young Master Wei is truly something.
Almost subconsciously, Fan Binbin had the idea of befriending him.
So she tried to compose herself as quickly as possible, and then took her mother to visit Mu Deyuan's office.
She's a guest from afar, and besides, she's a second-tier actress.
Mu Deyuan then opened the door to welcome them.
The tea had just been poured.
There were three knocks on the door of Mu Deyuan's lounge.
Mu Deyuan had just refilled Wei Yi's teacup for the third time, and without even looking up, said, "Come in."
The door was pushed open a crack.
The person peeking in was a female teacher from the Beijing Film Academy's International Affairs Office.
She glanced around at everyone in the room, her gaze finally settling on Wei Yi, her expression clearly showing a mix of nervousness and excitement.
"Director Mu. Someone is looking for Wei Yi; they're guests from outside."
"Who is it?" Mu Deyuan asked curiously.
Wei Yi looked up, but the people outside the door seemed to be getting impatient.
A middle-aged man in a suit strode in.
A young assistant carrying a briefcase followed behind him.
There was also a foreign woman wearing black-rimmed glasses.
The foreign woman, dressed in a sharp black suit, was expressionless and clutched a brown paper envelope in her hand.
As soon as the middle-aged man entered the room, he glanced around at the surroundings.
An old sofa, a plastic coffee table, and a few reflectors and folding lamp holders piled in the corner.
A flicker of disbelief, "That's all?" flashed in his eyes, but he quickly suppressed it.
He first nodded politely to Mu Deyuan: "Director Mu, I apologize for bothering you. I am Chen Chen from LV China. I spoke to you on the phone before."
Mu Deyuan then stood up and shook hands with him: "Director Chen, a rare guest. Please have a seat."
Chen Chen didn't sit down. His gaze was already fixed on Wei Yi on the sofa.
"This must be Professor Wei Yi, right?"
His voice had a slight southern accent, and his tone was extremely formal: "I've finally found you."
He took a business card out of his suit pocket and handed it to him with both hands.
The business card reads: Louis Vuitton China, Brand Director, Chen Chen, China Region.
Fan Binbin, who was leaning against the sofa armrest, sat up straight when he heard the word "LV".
Zhang Chuanmei stood behind her and looked over as well.
Chen Chen's next words froze the air in the entire lounge.
"Ms. Wei, Ms. Anna Wintour asked me to give you something."
The foreign woman wearing black-rimmed glasses stepped forward, bowed slightly, and introduced herself in fluent but slightly accented Chinese.
She is Anna Wintour's personal assistant in the Asia region, who flew in specifically from Hong Kong Island.
She pulled a piece of paper from the brown paper envelope and handed it to Wei Yi with both hands.
The letter paper was thin, and the VOGUE logo was printed at the top.
The main text is in English, handwritten by Anna Wintour herself.
The ink was deep blue, and the strokes were clean and crisp, without a single unnecessary curve.
The assistant translated sentence by sentence from the side, not loudly, but every word was clear.
Mr. Wei Yi:
I saw your photograph of Ms. Gong Li. The last time I stopped to look at a photograph repeatedly was many years ago.
There's something in your lens that no one else has. I can't quite put my finger on what it is, but I want to see it for myself.
If you'd like, I'd like to invite you to New York to be a guest photographer for Vogue International. Specific arrangements can be finalized with the LV team; you'll also be photographing their Cruise collection next year.
I'm waiting for you.
—Anna Wintour
The assistant put the letter back into the envelope and gently placed it on the coffee table.
The lounge was quiet.
The radiator hissed, and the sound of wind blowing through the treetops could be heard outside the window.
Mu Deyuan's hand, holding the cigarette, hung in mid-air, forgetting to bring it to his mouth.
Chen Chen rubbed his hands together, took half a step forward, and a hint of urgency masked the formality in his tone:
"Mr. Wei, it's like this. The creative direction for our early spring show is 'Oriental Fantasy.' Our creative director at the New York headquarters saw the set of queen-themed photos you took of Ms. Gong Li and said that it was the feeling he had been searching for for a long time. Later, he saw the emperor photos you took of Mr. Chow Yun-fat and then directly asked me to come to you."
He paused, then added:
"We hope to entrust this filming project directly to you. After hearing about it, Ms. Wintour offered to co-sign the invitation, which is why we have this letter."
The assistant pulled a document from the briefcase; it was a draft of the shooting contract for LV's early spring fashion show.
The book is quite long, with the corners neatly clipped together with coated paper. The cover features the LV logo and the word "Confidential".
Fan Binbin sat on the sofa and didn't say a word from beginning to end.
She didn't dare.
She still held the teacup in her hand, but her lips never touched the rim of the cup again.
She looked at the director named Chen Chen, who stood politely in front of Wei Yi.
Looking at the foreign woman who had flown in from Hong Kong, he said "She's waiting for you," then took a step back and respectfully placed his hands at his sides.
Any one of these people, if placed in any fashion event, would be surrounded by a large entourage.
Chen Chen is usually accompanied by at least four people when attending events.
That foreign woman seemed quiet and unassuming, but the name she represented was one that could make all the world's top stars line up for her approval.
They were all standing in an old lounge at Beijing Film Academy, filled with equipment, waiting for a reply from an 18-year-old freshman.
Fan Binbin's gaze slowly moved from Chen Chen's forehead to Wei Yi's face.
The person was sitting on the sofa, holding a teacup in their hand.
He listened to everyone's words, read the first two pages of the draft contract, and then casually stuffed the letter into his coat pocket.
The gesture was as casual as if he had received an ordinary postcard.
She recalled how much effort she had put in to compete for a cover for Marie Claire.
She recalled that afternoon when Guo Sansheng was hospitalized, and she and her mother sat in silence in the car.
I remembered that Li Binbin had already sent the sample copies to the editor-in-chief's desk through Deng Wendi's connections.
Then she heard Wei Yi speak.
"Next February." He flipped to the third page of the draft contract, glanced at the filming schedule, and said, "That's a bit of a hassle."
Chen Chen's smile froze for a moment.
"I was filming my first movie at the time, and my schedule was basically full. Plus, it coincided with the Chinese New Year, so I really couldn't find the time. Most likely—" He closed the draft contract and handed it back to Chen Chen, "I wouldn't be available. Unless we postponed it for a few more months."
Mu Deyuan almost dropped the cigarette in his hand.
The female teacher from the Foreign Affairs Office opened her mouth into a perfect "O" shape.
Zhang Chuanmei stood behind the sofa, unaware that the strap of her bag had slipped off her shoulder.
Fan Binbin looked at Wei Yi's profile.
His expression was exactly the same as when he had made her "remove all her makeup".
Calm, casual, without the slightest hesitation.
She suddenly realized that the questions she couldn't bring herself to ask in the studio were actually unnecessary to ask.
This person isn't ignorant of the rules of the fashion industry; he just doesn't care at all.
Chen Chen took back the draft contract, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, clearly not expecting this answer.
He adjusted his expression and forced a smile again:
"Mr. Wei, the time can be rescheduled. We can adjust the shooting schedule according to your availability. Ms. Wintour said that as long as you are willing to take the job, everything is negotiable."
Wei Yi picked up his teacup, took a sip, and nodded: "Then I'll check my schedule and give you an answer later?"
He spoke politely, but anyone could tell he didn't intend to agree on the spot.
Chen Chen opened his mouth, but ultimately said nothing more.
He exchanged a few more pleasantries with Mu Deyuan, then took his leave with his assistant and the foreign woman.
The door to the lounge closed again, and the radiators were still hissing.
Mu Deyuan stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, turned to look at Wei Yi, and after a long pause, finally managed to utter, "You little rascal, you're really something."