Chapter 88 I Haven’t Posed Yet!

Chapter 88: I Wasn't Even Ready for My Close-up!

"I heard Jiang Ruotang is great at painting, but I didn’t expect her French to be so good too. People say Mr. Jiang let you grow up freely, but in reality, he raised you with meticulous care."

Jiang Ruotang turned around and saw Qin Zhanchao looking at her with a meaningful gaze.

"Haha, those few sentences just now exhausted all my French vocabulary," Jiang Ruotang said while picking up some salmon and shellfish onto her plate. "I once fantasized about studying at the *École Nationale Supérieure des Beaux-Arts* in Paris, so I learned some French for a while. But later, I realized..."

"What did you realize?" Qin Zhanchao took two steps closer, a smile in his eyes but scrutinizing Jiang Ruotang all the same.

At first glance, the young man before her appeared clean-cut and fresh-faced, but upon closer inspection, his eyes were compelling—bright with a hint of clever mischief. There was no trace left of the spoiled young master from his childhood.

Jiang Ruotang shrugged. "Realized that just because I applied didn’t mean I’d get accepted. Now, it seems my chances of getting into the Central Academy of Fine Arts might actually be higher."

"Oh." Qin Zhanchao nodded with a smile and asked, "I heard you even have a painting exhibited in the city? Which gallery?"

"The Deep Blue Gallery, tucked away in a small corner. Honestly, nothing particularly noteworthy."

Jiang Ruotang didn’t believe Qin Zhanchao had any real interest in art. He was just probing whether Jiang Ruotang was truly pursuing an artistic path.

Every word from him carried an air of judgment, which Jiang Ruotang found rather dull.

"Really? But I think it’s quite atmospheric. Life at different moments gives that painting different meanings."

A somewhat familiar voice rang out. Jiang Ruotang turned and was startled to find Bai Yingchuan standing right behind her!

Why was he here? Shouldn’t he be avoiding public appearances right now?

Not just Jiang Ruotang, but all the other guests’ eyes were drawn to him, everyone searching for that flaw on his face—though from a distance, it wasn’t clearly visible.

But deliberately moving closer to look would be terribly impolite.

From a polite social distance, Jiang Ruotang could see it clearly—the faint scar running from below Bai Yingchuan’s cheekbone down to his jawline.

He wasn’t wearing makeup, only shaping his brows and styling his hair. He remained strikingly handsome, perhaps even more so now that he wore his scar openly, exuding an open, genuine presence. If before he had been like a living statue of perfection—gorgeous but lifeless—now, the scar added a touch of poignant vulnerability.

Zhao Zhangfeng frowned and muttered under his breath, "What’s this guy doing here?"

Bai Yingchuan extended his hand to Qin Zhanchao with a smile. His elegant wrist bore a classic mechanical timepiece, which didn’t make him seem old-fashioned but rather added a noble air.

"I should thank President Qin for inviting me to Old Master Qin’s birthday banquet."

Jiang Ruotang understood immediately—this was Qin Zhanchao extending an olive branch to Bai Yingchuan.

When Bai Yue exposed herself, hordes of netizens attacked Bai Yingchuan, costing him several scripts and endorsements. But when news broke that he had been scarred while saving a child, influential official media praised him. Combined with Sister Yu’s PR efforts, public sentiment shifted to sympathy, understanding, and support.

Even the brands that had canceled contracts faced backlash from fans, accused of abandoning him in difficult times and lacking integrity.

As a result, other brands that had been hesitant abandoned thoughts of dropping him and instead issued statements supporting him.

Though Bai Yingchuan himself remained out of sight, any topic related to him generated massive traffic.

Qin Zhanchao wanted to produce a reality show to cultivate rising stars. If he could get Bai Yingchuan as a guest, leveraging his current publicity, ratings would skyrocket.

Qin Zhanchao discreetly assessed Bai Yingchuan’s scar. At present, a makeup artist could probably conceal eighty percent of it. Variety shows weren’t like films—they didn’t need to zoom in on his injured face. Before the public forgot about him, Qin Zhanchao was determined to fully capitalize on Bai Yingchuan’s popularity.

Qin Zhanchao shook Bai Yingchuan’s hand. "Your performance in Mr. Jiang’s film was outstanding—you’re a promising newcomer. You and Ruotang seem quite close?"

"We’re classmates." Bai Yingchuan nodded but didn’t move closer to Jiang Ruotang, maintaining just the right distance.

"Is that so?" Qin Zhanchao smiled.

Qi Yanfeng had been observing the atmosphere around Jiang Ruotang. Sensing Qin Zhanchao’s scrutiny, he wasn’t worried Jiang Ruotang couldn’t handle it, but there was no need to spend the whole night playing a game of cat-and-mouse with Qin Zhanchao—this wasn’t some romantic entanglement.

So Qi Yanfeng deliberately walked over and engaged Qin Zhanchao in a conversation about idol drama production, leading him away.

Jiang Ruotang smiled and nodded at Qi Yanfeng. This business partner was reliable.

Only after they had walked away did Bai Yingchuan meet Jiang Ruotang’s eyes and say calmly, "It’s true—if I attended events like this without repairing my scar, it would create PR challenges for Sister Yu. But I remember what you said to me in the hospital that day."

"Oh. Say what you want to say." Jiang Ruotang replied indifferently.

"This scar won’t disappear completely, but it’s not beyond saving either. I won’t hide in the shadows like a coward or retreat behind the scenes. If anyone wants to see this scar, let them come closer and look. I’ve spoken with Teacher Feng Moshan—during university, I can perform in theater with him. It’s hard to appear on screen during recovery, but theater can hone my acting, especially my delivery and emotional resonance. Even if one day this mark remains visible on screen, I’ll make sure my acting makes the audience forget it."

Having said his piece, Bai Yingchuan waited for Jiang Ruotang’s response.

"Oh." Jiang Ruotang nodded to show she understood.

This would be a challenging journey—not only requiring exceptional acting skills but also exceptionally charismatic roles to make audiences and investors overlook his scar, perhaps even embrace it.

He could no longer rely on or cling to anyone as he had in his past life. Even the advantage of his handsome appearance was now lessened by the imperfection.

The cruelty of reality, the rapid turnover in this industry—Jiang Ruotang didn’t need to remind him.

Bai Yingchuan knew full well that whether he fell from grace or reinvented himself, Jiang Ruotang wouldn’t care.

Right now, all he wanted was Jiang Ruotang’s respect.

Without lingering or hesitation, Bai Yingchuan turned and walked away, heading toward the veteran media figures observing and discussing him.

Though his courage now was commendable, Jiang Ruotang thought, I hope you’ll remember this resolve when your fame diminishes and harsh realities set in.

Jiang Ruotang picked up her plate and continued eating her prosciutto and melon sandwich as if nothing had happened.

But Zhao Zhangfeng squeezed over, frowning seriously. "You’re not rekindling your relationship with Bai Yingchuan, are you?"

Jiang Ruotang had been about to pop a mini egg tart into her mouth but nearly choked at the question.

"Are you some kind of master of four-character phrases? Why ‘rekindling your relationship’ and not ‘taking different paths’ or ‘parting ways amicably’?"

"I’ve been watching Bai Yingchuan closely, ready to drag you away the moment his eyes start getting all intense." Zhao Zhangfeng rolled his wrist.

"Really? Whether his eyes get intense or not doesn’t matter. But if you keep dawdling, your pizza’s going cold and definitely won’t be stringy anymore." Jiang Ruotang laughed.

"That… if you really have to be with a guy, someone like Bai Yingchuan—I wouldn’t feel at ease."

The paternal tone made Jiang Ruotang burst out laughing. "Then what kind would put you at ease?"

Zhao Zhangfeng almost blurted, "Someone like me," but stopped himself. Though he was tall, handsome, and upstanding, he really wasn’t into guys. Instead, he said, "Someone like the class president—that’s who I’d trust. Not just me, the whole family would."

Jiang Ruotang’s pulse quickened, but she kept her smile casual. "In your mind, what’s ‘someone like the class president’?"

"Principled and responsible. When problems arise, he thinks of solutions instead of rushing in recklessly to be cannon fodder. Kind but not an attention-seeker—he only warms up to specific people. Smart, learns everything quickly, handsome, with a physique… just slightly worse than mine!"

Jiang Ruotang patted Zhao Zhangfeng’s shoulder. "Aside from that last bit, feel free to praise him more."

"Hmph." Zhao Zhangfeng tilted his head, glancing around. Every face here was stamped with ambition and networking—he disliked such settings. "Can’t people just simply enjoy the food in peace…?"

The two reached a consensus and deliberately chose a table in the corner, sitting down, placing their plates and grabbing drinks. Ignoring the adults' toasts and mingling, they leisurely began eating.

Jiang Ruotang set his glass in front of himself, slumping over the table with one hand pushing back his bangs while the other held his phone out for a selfie.

The camera lens happened to pass through the glass, capturing half of Jiang Ruotang’s face. He smiled brightly, like a fox that got the cream.

“I feel so childish—nothing like the high-fashion aesthetic those professional models pull off.”

Jiang Ruotang pouted. Others exuded lazy sensuality, while he just looked like a doofy grin—the difference between a product demo and an amateur result.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to send overly posed photos to Lu Guifan. This shot, half of himself and half of the banquet blurred by the glass, left things intriguingly vague—at least the composition wasn’t bad.

He sent the photo to their small group chat.

Almost immediately, he regretted it. Night study session at school had probably started by now. If his message caused someone’s phone to vibrate and get confiscated by a teacher, he’d feel terrible.

Back in the classroom, everyone was grinding through worksheets while the physics teacher slowly paced between the desks.

Jian Sha, sitting in the front row, felt her phone buzz in her desk. Unable to resist, she sneaked a look and whispered, “Wow, Jiang Ruotang looks so handsome when he dresses up?”

Hearing that name, Lu Guifan, who had been calmly writing on his test paper, suddenly paused.

He was already unused to Jiang Ruotang’s absence—the boy who always found excuses to pester him—and now, hearing his name out of nowhere, Lu Guifan’s heart felt wrenched downward by an invisible force before rebounding so hard it nearly burst from his chest.

Controlling his breathing, he slipped his phone out in class for the first time.

It was their group chat. Jiang Ruotang had sent a photo of himself.

It was the same hairstyle he always wore—no greasy gel, no styling—just dressed in a black suit, leaning on the table. The plate in front of him was likely filled with delicate pastries, slightly blurred from being too close to the lens, while most of Jiang Ruotang’s face peeked out from behind the glass.

Maybe it was the bright lighting of the venue, different from usual, but it gave Jiang Ruotang a radiant clarity.

His smiling eyes and the dent in his cheek carried a youthful charm, but after a second glance, it evoked a strange, tingling itch in the chest.

That guileless expression seemed to naturally beg to be messed with—to push him further.

...To make him cry.

“Monitor! The teacher called you to solve the problem on the board!”

Cai Ji’s voice snapped Lu Guifan back to reality.

He looked up to see the physics teacher eyeing him.

Glancing at Cai Ji, who tapped the second major question on the worksheet, Lu Guifan made his way to the board and took the chalk. Yet, his pounding heartbeat refused to settle, his mind still lingering on Jiang Ruotang’s smile.

Exhaling subtly, he considered clearing Jiang Ruotang from his thoughts but decided against it.

Might as well picture himself explaining the problem to Jiang Ruotang. If he tackled it like a straight-A student would, hardly anyone in class would understand.

“Zhang Feng, get my picture.” Jiang Ruotang handed his phone over.

Zhao Zhangfeng was busy shoveling petit fours into his mouth, while Jiang Ruotang, having only eaten a few slices of salmon, was already acting up. “This isn’t a red carpet or some entertainment event. Why are you so obsessed with taking photos? Such a diva.”

“Zhao Zhangfeng, keep this up, and you’ll lose me as your brother!”

“Who cares!”

Despite his words, Zhao Zhangfeng took the phone and snapped a few random shots without waiting for Jiang Ruotang to pose—his only goal being to capture the person before handing the phone back.

Jiang Ruotang looked at the results and was seeing red.

“Zhao Zhangfeng, what kind of monstrosity did you take?!”

“That monstrosity is you,” Zhao Zhangfeng replied coolly.

Jiang Ruotang couldn’t take it. He moved behind Zhao Zhangfeng and tightened an arm around his neck. “Couldn’t you at least angle the camera lower? Look how big my head is and how short my legs are! And this one—I’m completely blurred! This one, my eyes aren’t even open! Zhao Zhangfeng, are you hexed? With skills like this, no girl will ever like you!”

“No worries. When I look for a girlfriend, I’ll first ask if they want me to take photos for them. Anyone who says yes gets rejected immediately!”

Jiang Ruotang’s eyelids nearly flipped inside out.

“Let me take one for you.” A teasing voice sounded behind Jiang Ruotang.

He turned and saw Chen Dan.

Without his leather jacket and dressed in a formal suit, Chen Dan actually looked somewhat refined.

“Wow, Dan-ge… You really do look like a prince when you dress the part…”

The moment he finished speaking, Chen Dan gave a light thump to Jiang Ruotang’s head with his phone.

“My family was invited too. Seems Old Master Qin is laying the groundwork for his eldest grandson’s connections. A bunch of people came to discuss Little Sweet Fruit endorsements—barely had time to eat. Had to bail.”

Chen Dan, at the very least, knew his way around a camera. His eye for composition and photography skills were surely on a different level from Zhao Zhangfeng’s.

“Then, Dan-ge, I hereby appoint you as the official photographer. If the photos turn out bad, you’ll be punished with wasabi shots.”

At least Chen Dan wouldn’t turn him into a hobbit.

Zhao Zhangfeng shot them a look. “What’s the difference? Can this wild card—genius or disaster, who knows—really work miracles on your mug?”

“Get lost.” Jiang Ruotang picked up a grape from his plate and threw it at Zhao Zhangfeng. “His name is Chen Dan—the ‘Dan’ meaning unflappable as chrysanthemums!”

To his surprise, Zhao Zhangfeng reacted swiftly, catching it midair and popping it into his mouth, then shooting Jiang Ruotang a challenging glance.

“Alright, superstar. Photographer’s ready.” Chen Dan raised the phone.

Jiang Ruotang sat sideways at the table, one hand braced against the tabletop, fingers curled naturally against his lips.

It was a pose meant to project boardroom authority, but Jiang Ruotang’s expression lacked any solemnity. His eyes and brows were dancing with mirth, and the dimple at his lips, half-hidden by his fingers, gave him a playful, scheming glint.

“Adorable. Got any more?” Chen Dan couldn’t help but laugh.

“What? Adorable? That pose was clearly mature!”

Jiang Ruotang refused to accept it. He’d analyzed male model portfolios for years—how could he not grasp their essence?

Seems like he’d have to play up his boyish features properly.

Shifting his hand from his lips to his shoulder, Jiang Ruotang turned his head slightly, his jawline becoming pronounced. His perky nose accentuated his boyish charm, that precarious edge between innocence and maturity making Chen Dan do a double take.

“Don’t tell me it’s still ‘adorable’?”

Jiang Ruotang tilted his head, but Chen Dan only smiled without answering.

Yes, still adorable.

"Looking better than before, a bit more handsome," Chen Dan asked, "Got more poses?"

Zhao Zhangfeng glanced up, was about to say "so vain," but he realized Jiang Ruotang’s poses actually looked quite good.

"I want a standing shot. Make sure you capture my broad shoulders, narrow waist, and long legs."

Chen Dan nodded with a laugh. Truth be told, Jiang Ruotang’s had great proportions to begin with—narrow waist and long legs were a given—but those broad shoulders? That might be a challenge.

Zhao Zhangfeng shook his head and sighed. "The real challenge has arrived. Turning a kitten into a tiger—good luck with that."

"When I get back, I’m selling all your sports cards!" Jiang Ruotang threatened fiercely.

"I’ll lock my door," Zhao Zhangfeng retorted, getting up to grab another round of food. He was here for the buffet, after all.

"Brother Dan, check out this boss pose—how’s that for a successful businessman?"

With that, Jiang Ruotang crossed his arms and put on a serious face.

Chen Dan burst out laughing. "Like a kid pretending to be an adult."

"Don’t all those motivational speakers on self-help book covers use this pose? Guess I don’t have the MLM (multi-level marketing) look."

Jiang Ruotang relaxed one shoulder, his initially tough guy pose softening bit by bit as he slouched lazily. When he glanced sideways, his gaze looking straight at the camera, there was an unintentional charm that made Chen Dan feel a twinge of regret.

Why bother with art? Just debut right here, and we’d rake in the cash!

Qin Zhanchao, who had been chatting with Qi Yanfeng, noticed this scene out of the corner of his eye and glanced over. "Didn’t expect Ruo Tang to be so close with the Chen family’s heir?"

Qi Yanfeng immediately understood the unspoken concern—whether the Jiang and Chen families were teaming up.

Alliance? More like the Chen heir was working for Jiang Ruotang.

"Oh, my brother mentioned they played pool together once. What else would these irresponsible bunch do besides eat, drink, and have fun? They’ve even corrupted Director Jiang’s son."

Qi Yanfeng added with a sigh.

Qin Zhanchao chuckled. "Just shooting pool—hardly counts as leading anyone astray."

Meanwhile, Jiang Ruotang dashed over to Chen Dan and grabbed the phone. "Let me see, let me see!"

He sat down and started swiping through the photos. "You’re actually pretty good at this. These turned out nice."

Chen Dan laughed. "I never knew you were this vain. A Ze went off to some island vacation and missed this banquet. If he saw the photos I took of you, he’d be green with envy."

"Don't worry. In a few years, when we’ve successfully rebranded, we’ll throw our own banquet and have A Ze be the lucky charm—handing out lucky money envelopes to employees."

Just imagining the scene had Chen Dan grinning ear to ear.

Then, Chen Dan spoke up. "We’ve never taken a photo together, have we?"

"Huh?" Jiang Ruotang blinked up at him in confusion.

Before he could react, Chen Dan’s hand was already resting lightly on his shoulder, the other holding the phone as he snapped a shot—no doubt to show off to Qi Yanze later.

"I didn’t even pose properly…"

In the photo, Jiang Ruotang’s wide eyes made him look like a curious kitten, lips slightly parted as if about to speak.

"You still want to pose? Like some groundbreaking ceremony for a new project?"

"How original."

Jiang Ruotang patted Chen Dan’s shoulder. "Come on, sales champion, have a seat."

"Sure." Chen Dan sat down, amused.

Jiang Ruotang grabbed a white napkin from the side, rolling it into a ring before standing behind Chen Dan.

"Zhao Zhangfeng, take a photo for us."

"Seriously? Are you two done yet? I’ve never seen guys as obsessed with photos as you!"

Despite his complaints, Zhao Zhangfeng took the phone.

Jiang Ruotang stood behind Chen Dan, placing the makeshift napkin crown on his head.

"You two really know how to have fun," Zhao Zhangfeng muttered, taking a few quick photos before handing the phone back.

"Zhang Feng, we haven’t taken one together yet!" Jiang Ruotang bounced over to him.

"What? We see each other every day—why bother with photos?"