Chapter 194 Abandoning Conventional Practice
Chapter 194 Abandoning Conventional Practice
The person in charge spotted me and immediately hustled over with a deep bow, his deference cranked up to the maximum. "Mr. Spencer, what can I do for you?"
"Sophia from the Spencer Group branch, she's not competing?" My voice was low, carrying a natural authority that needed no effort behind it.
He froze for a second, then quickly flipped open his tablet and scrolled through it. He wiped a bead of cold sweat from his forehead before reporting back carefully, "Mr. Spencer, Lady Sophia is here. However, she didn't register as an independent designer. She came on as the design assistant for Lisa, a contestant from the Spencer Group branch."
"Assistant?" My fingers paused slightly around my pen, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing my eyes.
"Yes, station seven in Zone D." He gestured politely in that direction.
I followed his lead and looked up.
Past the layers of light and the crowd moving in every direction, my gaze landed precisely on the station tucked in the corner of Zone D.
I spotted Sophia instantly.
Even though she was clearly keeping a low profile, plain clothes, cap pulled down, I could still tell in a second that she was different from everyone else around her.
Her skin had that cool, porcelain-white tone of someone who rarely sees the sun, and her jawline was clean and elegant.
She just stood there, perfectly still, not a single unnecessary movement, yet she had the quiet presence of a winter plum blossoming alone in the snow and ice, untouched and apart from everything around her.
That kind of bone-deep refinement and cool detachment wasn't something you could fake with expensive clothes.
Something close to quiet admiration and pride slowly surfaced in my eyes.
Worthy of the Spencer bloodline. That unshakeable composure, it was exactly the kind of self-possession the Spencer family was known for.
But right behind that came a deeper question.
I narrowed my eyes slightly, my fingertips tapping the table without thinking.
Given what Sophia had shown yesterday at the launch event, that sharp, decisive force she carried, she had every right and every ability to dominate any stage she walked onto.
So why was she pulling back? Why hide all of that and settle for being some unknown designer's assistant?
What was she playing at?
The corner of my mouth shifted, just barely, and something curious crept into the way I was watching her.
I wanted to see just how many surprises this sister of mine still had in store.
"Contestants!" The host's voice cut through the room and interrupted my thoughts. "I will now announce the theme for the first round!"
The entire venue went silent. Everyone held their breath.
"The theme for round one is, Spring!"
"All designers and their assistants must work closely together to design and produce a dress that fully captures the Spring theme, within a four-hour time limit. This round tests not only the designer's creativity, but also the teamwork and hands-on skills between designer and assistant. Your time starts, now!"
The countdown clock on the big screen started ticking, and the floor exploded into chaos.
Contestants made a mad dash for the shared fabric area, racing to grab whatever materials and accessories they had their eyes on.
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Sophia's POV
Lisa stood in front of her station with her brow knotted tight.
"Spring…" She bit her lower lip, her mind working fast.
When anyone heard the word Spring, the first thing that came to mind was almost always new growth, fresh greenery, or fields of flowers in bloom.
"Miss Spencer." Lisa turned to look at me. I was standing beside her, completely calm. Her voice carried a trace of anxiety. "I'm thinking of making a gradient green chiffon gown, using water-soluble lace along the hem to suggest spring shoots pushing through the soil, with some scattered crystals to capture the feeling of morning dew. But…"
Her fingers twisted the hem of her jacket without her noticing, and her tone grew less certain. "It's too predictable. Look over there —"
She pointed toward the fabric area.
More than half the contestants were practically fighting each other over green, pink, and pale yellow chiffon and silk.
"At least seventy percent of the people here will go with green and floral elements." Lisa took a slow breath, worry clear in her eyes. "The cutoff is brutal, half the contestants get eliminated. If our design doesn't stand out, we'll just blend into the crowd and get cut by the judges without a second look."
I didn't answer right away.
I lifted my head slightly, and my eyes, cool and steady beneath the brim of my cap, swept slowly across the busy, noisy floor like a radar scanning the room.
Lisa was right. The overwhelming majority had already fallen into the same trap: Spring equals green.
Under this kind of pressure, with the clock running, playing it safe was most people's gut instinct.
But playing it safe also meant being forgettable.
I pulled my gaze back and let it rest on Lisa's station.
A few bolts of basic fabric provided by the organizers sat on the table. One of them stood out for exactly the opposite reason, an understated, unadorned bolt of moon-white satin.
I reached out and ran my fingertips lightly over the surface, feeling the cool, smooth texture of the fabric.
"Do you think Spring can only be green?" My voice was quiet, but it had an edge that cut straight through.
Lisa blinked, looking at me blankly.
"If everyone else is chasing the image, then we'll go after the feeling." My eyes lifted, a sharp, certain light flickering in them.
I pulled the bolt of moon-white satin toward me and made the call, clean and final.
"No green." I looked at Lisa, each word deliberate and firm. "We're doing embroidery."
The camera zoomed in. The tension on the floor was at its peak.
"You handle the silhouette and cutting, I'll do the embroidery?" Lisa stared at the moon-white satin and swallowed, then snapped into focus. She was someone who got nervous easily, but in her area of expertise, her instincts were sharp and not to be underestimated.
She moved quickly to the fabric area and picked out a bolt of the softest, most delicate pale green gauze as the underlayer, a perfect complement to the moon-white satin.
"Works for me." I gave a small nod, pulled open the toolbox without hesitation, and selected several threads of green silk in different shades.
The two of us split the work immediately, falling into a smooth, unspoken rhythm.
The camera operator caught this unlikely pair right away and cut to them on the big screen above the floor.
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Joseph's POV
At the judges' table, my attention had never left station seven in Zone D.
In the close-up on the big screen, Sophia had her head tilted slightly down, the cap covering most of her face, only her clean jawline and the pale, slender line of her neck visible beneath the brim.
Her left hand held the satin in place while her right hand guided an embroidery needle, fine as a single hair, moving with a fluid ease that made it look effortless.
Then, as she pressed down with her left hand to keep the fabric steady, her sleeve shifted, and the gauze bandage wrapped underneath slipped briefly into view.