Mr. Su’s outfit is quite impressive!

Backstage.

At this moment, Su Yunjin was completely unaware that yet another misfortune was about to befall her. She was simply getting ready for makeup in the backstage dressing room.

But...

"Not here, my eyebrows need to be higher, teacher."

"Teacher, look, isn’t the edge of my lips too pronounced?"

"Teacher, do you think my outfit clashes too much with this makeup?"

"What kind of makeup is this? My signature smile is gone, look, look, how can this work? I don’t look pretty at all."

Though there were only five mentors sharing the dressing room, Su Yunjin felt as if she had entered the territory of a hundred-strong army. Luo Zizhen and Zhang Chuchu were practically using their makeup artists to the limit, complaining every other minute about something not being right. The two artists stood by Luo Zizhen and Zhang Chuchu, nervous and submissive.

Noticing Su Yunjin, Shao Xinghui and Wang Tao turned around and greeted her. She responded with a cheerful smile.

"You’ll have to wait a little, Ms. Su," Shao Xinghui said, "We only have two makeup artists in here."

"That’s fine, I’ll wait," she replied with a gentle smile.

"Ms. Su, your outfit today is so relaxed," Wang Tao observed from the mirror. Today, Su Yunjin wore a teal-green tea ceremony robe, made of a linen-like fabric that exuded a sense of Zen. Yet, the robe hung beautifully, its color vivid but not gaudy. Most impressively, the tailoring was impeccable, every inch seemingly designed with care.

The robe bore traces of worldly life yet seemed set apart from it, detached and serene. Coupled with Su Yunjin’s tall figure, striking features, and those clear, luminous eyes, she brought to mind the lines: “Unstained by the muddy waters, fragrant and pure, upright and serene, to be admired from afar but not to be profaned.”

Su Yunjin offered a faint smile in response. This Zen robe was what she wore for her morning and evening rituals; its purpose was simply to embody tranquility. She hadn’t planned to wear it out, but after injuring her foot yesterday, this robe conveniently covered her feet, making her loose, comfortable shoes less conspicuous.

"Ms. Su, where did you buy this robe? I want to get one too," Wang Tao asked after his compliments. He had no particular hobbies except collecting casual clothing. Street dance, after all, was about expressing your true self, and Su Yunjin’s attire was exactly his style. He wanted to know which designer made it—to place a proper order.

"I didn’t buy it; I made it myself," Su Yunjin replied.

"You can make your own clothes?" Wang Tao asked in surprise.

"A little," she nodded modestly.

Life on Mount Zongshan was nothing like the outside world. There were no phones, no internet, and beyond spiritual practice, you had to rely on your own hands to live well. Weaving fabric and tailoring clothes were just basic skills for getting by. Frankly, if you went back thirty years, everyone could do these things; there was nothing to boast about.

Su Yunjin didn’t think much of it, but in Wang Tao’s eyes, she suddenly seemed remarkable. Before, he hadn’t understood why Zhang Zhichang would fancy a girl from the mountains, but now, he wondered how Su Yunjin could possibly be interested in someone like Zhang Zhichang.

A girl who could sew and sing—why hadn’t he ever met someone like her? Just the ability to make clothes was impressive enough; if this robe came in a men’s style, he’d pay any price for it. The thought that Su Yunjin might make clothes for Zhang Zhichang made Wang Tao all the more envious.

He swiveled his chair toward Su Yunjin, "Ms. Su, do you make men’s clothes too?"

"Yes, I do. Why?" she answered, a bit puzzled, though she already had an inkling.

Sure enough, Wang Tao grinned, "Would you make a robe for me? Name your price—just like the one you’re wearing."

He loved this robe. With his world tour coming up later in the year, this would be the perfect outfit to wear on stage.

Seeing Wang Tao speak up, Shao Xinghui chimed in, "Ms. Su, could you make one for me too? The same style would be perfect."

He had the same idea as Wang Tao—once Su Yunjin made the robe, he would wear it for his new album cover. A garment with such Chinese flair was bound to make his music a hit.

"I’m afraid that’s not possible," Su Yunjin could only smile wryly as she looked at the two expectant faces. Before they could protest, she explained, "You’d have to wait at least five years for a robe like mine."

"Five years?" Wang Tao echoed.

"Why so long?" asked Shao Xinghui.

"Because the fabric is made from lotus silk. One bolt takes hundreds of thousands of lotus fibers. With all the drying, weaving, and sewing, it takes at least five years to complete. Besides, I’m not in the clothing business—it’s too much trouble," Su Yunjin explained gently.

Though there were reserves at Mount Zongshan, they were set aside for the elders. It wasn’t easy to weave even one bolt of lotus silk, let alone design and tailor an entire robe. What’s more, though the robe looked like cotton or linen at first glance, it was actually woven from lotus silk, mulberry silk, and other natural fibers. The colors were all natural—no dyes whatsoever—and it would never fade, even after years of wear.

Shao Xinghui and Wang Tao were decent to her, but they were merely acquaintances, perhaps friends at best. She wasn’t about to go to such trouble for them. Of course, if she made a living from it, that would be different—but she didn’t. And as the heir to Mount Zongshan, anything that left the mountain represented the entire tradition; there was no room for carelessness, and she wouldn’t allow herself to be careless.

"But if you two are interested, you might try looking for overseas designers," Su Yunjin suggested. "I remember that every year, there are auctions abroad for robes like this."

Though she had declined, she still pointed them in the right direction. Many renowned foreign designers sought out lotus silk. As long as you had the money and the patience, you could still find such a robe.