Chapter 121

Rong Qing had officially taken the helm of Wenna Fashion. As a global superstar and a true fashion icon, she possessed an incisive ability to handle business affairs. While not a designer herself, she had an extraordinary eye for distinguishing beauty from ugliness and high fashion from the mundane. In her view, although the company lacked a substantial portfolio of finished works, it held significant potential for development.

Within the opulent presidential office, the stunning fashionista sat at the head of the table, meticulously comparing the colors, textures, and styles in the design proofs. Standing before her were the company’s elite designers.

"What is your assessment of your own designs compared to those of famous French fashion houses?" Rong Qing’s presence was commanding. Dressed in a pink cutout knit sweater, a form-fitting knee-length coffee-colored skirt, and pointed-toe leather shoes, her outfit was not from a famous runway show, yet it was strikingly chic and fashionable. Initially, both designers and staff had been skeptical of this "parachuted" new president. However, they found themselves genuinely submissive to the woman who had created fashion miracles and captivated the world.

He Mu, a young man as dull as his name suggested, possessed a raw appearance wrapped in somber colors. He was taciturn, carrying a hint of youthful stubbornness. If seen in a crowd, no one would guess he was a genius designer who had swept domestic awards and international newcomer prizes. Yet, since entering the office, his usually placid eyes had been locked onto Rong Qing with keen interest.

"I don't think our designs are any worse than theirs," a haughty female designer declared. "Wenna’s creations are just as capable of selling overseas and winning favor. Our color palettes and styles are just as trendy and fashionable." She spoke with pride, though her expression darkened as a thought crossed her mind.

"But you have never received international recognition. You cannot even garner attention at fashion shows in the fashion capitals," Rong Qing said. Her words were sharp, hitting home instantly. The room fell silent, the designers' faces turning ashen with embarrassment.

"It is because they discriminate against our people and exclude us from the fashion world!" the woman retorted indignantly. Rong Qing’s words had doused these arrogant designers with a bucket of cold water, exposing their deepest insecurities.

"Is that what you all truly believe?" Rong Qing scanned the room. Aside from He Mu, who remained indifferent, the others lowered their heads. Their silent dissent only confirmed her point. The previously pleasant superstar turned stern. "If you hold such a mindset, your careers as designers are effectively over." She slapped the design proofs onto the table. "Last October, at the London Fashion Show, S&S launched a world-famous color-blocking collection. Shortly after, Wenna pushed out a series of color-blocked garments. This June, Master David created a nine-grid decorative pattern, which you also 'borrowed.' You add your own touches to their ideas—you call it innovation, but to be blunt, it is plagiarism! Which runway show are you planning to 'innovate' from this year?"

Rong Qing did not mince words. This was the company’s fatal flaw. What was more pathetic was that these designers, who made their living from design, were self-satisfied with their derivative work.

"I don't deny your talent, but you lack the unique style that belongs exclusively to Wenna. Ultimately, you are just following in others' footsteps, coveting their results, and failing to build your own brand."

The designers kept their heads bowed. Rong Qing’s words had struck the heart of the matter. While they were proud of their work, it was never truly recognized. Looking over their portfolios, she saw that everyone—except He Mu—carried the shadows of others. He Mu produced very little, but every time he showcased his work, it was breathtaking. In the aristocratic circles, many noblewomen commissioned custom pieces from his studio.

"Then what should we do? Our own original works rarely receive public recognition," one designer said with frustration. His initial dream had been to design for his own brand, but as he moved deeper into the industry, that dream had been mercilessly eroded by time. When his creations were scoffed at, all he could do was adapt.

Every designer stared intently at their president. This was not just one person’s problem; it was the collective sentiment. Internationally, no one was kind enough to recognize an outsider brand, regardless of how much talent it possessed.

Rong Qing smiled faintly. Good. As long as they were willing to commit to Wenna, she had the power to help their brand reach the world stage. "Go and think about how we should define our future style and create something unique. If one day you can present work that earns my approval, I will be more than happy to hold a fashion show for our brand’s rebirth."

"Oh!" The room buzzed. Rong Qing was not only a national film star with immense influence, but also a top fashion model. Some international luxury brands would pay a fortune just to have her walk for them. That their small brand could secure her meant that if that day came, Wenna becoming a global brand was no longer a dream. Their new president was leading them toward their dreams.

The previously disheartened designers were now full of energy, their eyes burning with focus. She laughed, "I must state clearly: my standards are high. If you cannot create your own style, I will not help you, nor will I hold a fashion show." Though she warned them, most were not deterred. This was far better than having a dream they could never realize.

"That's all. You may go," Rong Qing said.

Once everything was settled, Rong Qing leaned back in her chair. After three days of grinding, she had finally mastered the company’s status. It was lonely at the top, but she did not want to be viewed merely as a figurehead young mistress of the Huo family. She was exhausted, but watching this small company thrive under her hands would be an amazing thing.

She rubbed her aching waist and closed her eyes to rest, while her computer screen displayed the company’s healthy operational status.

"Bang!" A loud crash echoed as the office door was kicked open. A woman stormed in. "Get out of my way! I want to see what kind of vixen has the audacity to take over!" the girl shrieked. The staff behind her looked panicked, clearly having failed to stop her.

"What is going on?" Rong Qing frowned, her sharp eyes questioning her assistant.

"President, it’s Director Huo who forced her way in... I... we couldn't stop her." The assistant was in a dilemma. She knew the intruder was the young mistress of the entire Huo family and half-owner of the company, while the woman behind the desk was the Creative Director of Wenna who had run things before Rong Qing’s arrival. Daring not to offend either, she had let her in. She also wanted to know who would be calling the shots from now on.

Rong Qing saw the assistant’s hesitation and understood. She remained calm, though she felt incredibly annoyed. "If you cannot even stop someone from barging in, you won't need to work for the Huo family in the future."

"Pr... President..." The girl’s eyes welled with tears, her face turning pale and looking pitifully fragile.

But Rong Qing did not change her mind. If she tolerated this today, more would follow. To build this brand, managing people was just as important as managing design.

Rong Qing looked up at the woman who had barged in. She was wearing the latest Chanel suit, the white and blue stripes adding a touch of elegant casualness. Her young face was meticulously made up, and her carefully chosen accessories highlighted her fashion sense. However, the words spilling from her mouth were far from charming. Rong Qing leaned back with poise; she was the mistress of this company. Frowning, she said, "Miss Huo, I don't believe we've met. Of course, if you were a member of my generation, you should be addressing me as 'Madam,' rather than acting like some stray cat or dog."

The woman’s face was filled with embarrassment and rage. Rong Qing’s status and position were set in stone; even if she was favored, she had to show respect. She was filled with resentment. Why should someone be placed above her when she had been doing such a good job? She had built this brand, yet her achievements had been snatched away. She was not reconciled!

She was Huo Yiyi, the eldest daughter of a direct branch of the Huo family. She had received an elite education, excelled in the arts, and used her talent to get into the Royal College of Art in London. Her life had been smooth sailing, and she was a role model for the younger generation. Upon graduation, the head of the family had put her in charge of the fashion brand. She believed that with her taste and grasp of fashion, she had given Wenna significant room for growth. But now, seeing an uneducated woman with no experience—a woman who only knew how to flaunt her looks—take her position, she was furious. In her eyes, the superstar Rong Qing had merely seduced the head of the family with her bewitching face; what talent could she possibly have?

Since graduating, she had lived in an apartment in the city. She had heard rumors that the new young mistress was soft-natured and lacked authority, relying on her "fox-like" face to gain favor with the elderly patriarch and the head of the family. This made the proud Huo Yiyi look down on this "actress" even more. That was why she had dared to "visit" so boldly today. In her heart, she was still the true scion of the Huo family—what was this woman compared to her?