Chapter 4 — Global Livestream, Her Dress Shows My Name

Ms. Luc continued:

“Mat Mat said he is also learning this technique.”

“But there is no time left.”

“The deadline for the international vote is next month.”

“He asked me to ask you if I could help complete that step.”

“Why doesn't she come and ask herself?”

“He's afraid you don't want to see him.”

Ms. Luc's voice carried a bit of blame.

“After all, you two were so noisy.”

“But Mat Mat said it.”

“He doesn't hate you.”

“He knew at that time she was just temporarily confused.”

Momentarily confused. Steal her designs for the exam. In Ha Mat's mouth, that matter was just temporary confusion. That is her bravery. Forever standing in the position of the victim. Use the gentlest tone to stab a knife into someone else's heart. But it also made the onlookers feel that she was generous enough.

“I will think.”

“Thinking about what?”

Ms. Luc's voice immediately rose.

“Ha Tinh, I'm telling you straight.”

“Your reputation in this industry is over.”

“The only thing you can still rely on is your skills.”

“Mat Mat asking you to help this time is giving you a way to live.”

"After completing this order, he promised to help you say a few good words in the world, and also introduce you to a few small things."

“If you still stubbornly refuse to bow your head, you won't even have such an opportunity in the future.”

She stood up. Throw the file hard on the table.

“This is a trust contract.”

“Wage of fifty thousand yuan.”

“If you agree, sign it.”

“Go to Mat Mat's office to report your name tomorrow.”

After she left. I opened the contract and looked at it from start to finish. Five thousand yuan. The market price for one of my shaping treatments is twelve thousand yuan. Perhaps in Ms. Luc's eyes, fifty thousand yuan was an alms for a person known for plagiarism. I put the contract aside. Take the ceramic jar out from under the floor tile. The dye inside has been adjusted to the perfect concentration. I found a discarded piece of white cotton fabric. Use a marker to absorb the dye. Write three words on it. Bring it out under the light to see. Can't see anything. The surface of the cloth is as clean as if there had never been a trace. I then poured the diluted alcohol solution into the spray bottle. Spray twice on the fabric. Ten seconds passed. Three words slowly appeared from deep within each strand of fabric. Dark blue. Unmistakably clear.

“Ha Tinh refined.”

I stared at those three words. Then close the ceramic jar tightly. Place it back in its original position under the floor tile. Then, I picked up the contract on the table. In the signature section of the entrusted party, I signed my name down. The next day, I went to Ha Mat's office. Her office is located in an artistic creative district in the city center. The area is more than three hundred square meters. Glass door close to the ground. The white-painted walls are filled with blueprints and material samples. There is a wall in there. Hanging all manuscripts of the "Son Hai Van" collection. Every drawing is done by myself. I recognized my pen strokes. The first stroke is always strong. The finish is always light. At the change of direction there will be a very small pause. Ha Mat imitated many times but could not learn. In the end she simply used my original. Ha Mat stood waiting in front of the desk. There are no outsiders today. Her expression was much more relaxed than before.

“Tinh Tinh, you're here.”

She stepped forward to take my hand. I took half a step back. Her hand missed mid-air. The smile on his face stiffened for a moment and then quickly returned to normal.

“Okay, I know you're still mad at me.”

“But you should also understand me.”

“Those designs were originally the result of our discussions together.”

“I'll just take my portion and use it first.”

“Um, I know.”

I don't argue with her. In my previous life, I argued countless times. Every time I lost to her tears and self-pity. She cried and asked:

“Why did you become like this?”

Then everyone came to advise me:

“Forget it.”

“It's not easy for Ha Mat either.”

In this life, I save my energy.

“Where are the formal clothes?”

“I'll look at the material first.”

Ha Mat led me into an independent room located deepest in the office. An unfinished evening gown hangs on a mannequin. Primary red. The flared skirt is nearly two meters wide. The top of the dress is embroidered with a phoenix pattern with gold thread. The phoenix tail extends from the waist down to the hem of the dress. I walked around the mannequin. The shape is designed by me. The pattern is drawn by me. Even the technique of embroidering the phoenix tail is a cross-lock thread pattern that I created myself. But in the author's signature section, it says: Designer: Ha Mat.

“It's beautiful, isn't it?”

Ha Mat leaned against the window frame and looked at me.

“I made some edits to your design.”

“The color also changed to primary red.”

“The pomegranate red you used before was a bit dark.”

She has indeed changed color. But she doesn't know. The reason I chose garnet red that year was because the pigment molecular structure of this color did not conflict with my submersible pattern dye. The main red color is different. Pigment molecules are larger. After the dye penetrates the fabric, the color rendering effect will be even more obvious. She accidentally did me a favor.

“The shaping process takes three days.”

“During these three days, I must use this room exclusively.”

“No one can come in.”

“During the evaporation of the fixative, it will affect the material.”

“The air flow created when opening and closing the door can cause an uneven fabric surface.”

I have used this reason countless times. It works every time. Because shaping technology is inherently an extremely demanding job in terms of the environment. People outside the profession cannot distinguish between real requests and fake requests. Ha Mat hesitated a bit.

“So how do I know you won't sabotage?”

“You can install a camera.”

She thought for a moment then laughed.

“Forget it.”

“I believe you.”

"Anyway, if you dare to ruin my dress now, you really won't be able to continue working in this life."

She's right. In my previous life, I really didn't dare.

“Ah yes.”

Ha Mat seemed to have just remembered something. She took out her phone, opened a photo and showed it to me.

“Look at this.”

“Yesterday, Luc Ngan came with me to try a new type of shaping glue.”

“It's imported.”

“I heard it worked extremely well.”

On the screen is a photo. Luc Ngan stands in a chemical store. In his hand he held a can of setting spray. And facing the camera, he held up the victory sign. Ha Mat took back the phone. A dazzlingly sweet smile.

“He treats me really well.”

“Tinh Tinh, I know your heart is not comfortable.”

“But you and Luc Ngan are capital incompatible."

“You are too strong.”

“Luc Ngan needs someone more gentle.”

I said nothing. She tilted her head.

“Are you angry?”

“Keep that bottle of fixative.”

“Before going on stage, you need to spray a final fixing layer.”

“It's okay to use it.”

She was stunned.

“Are you sure?”

“Didn't you always say you have your own shaping formula?”

“I thought everyone didn't trust my stuff.”

“Use imported goods.”

“The effect is not bad.”

Ha Mat nodded with satisfaction. Then turned around and left the room. After the door closes. I looked at the dress in front of me. The heart rate is as stable as a sewing machine operating normally. She will definitely use that shaping bottle. Because the main ingredient of that imported shaping glue contains up to sixty percent alcohol solvent. What I need to do is extremely simple. For the next three days. I will seriously complete the entire shaping process. Then in the final step. I will use a hidden pattern dye to cover the lining and fabric layers inside the dress. Write only three correct words. Lower Refinement. After spraying shaping glue. The alcohol will penetrate each layer of fabric. Those lines will slowly appear within fifteen minutes. Under the bright red fabric. The dark blue patterns will look like veins growing from the bones of the dress. Little by little. Revealed before everyone's eyes.