Not Capable of Compromise

On leaving the dragon's lair, Qian Meng was so heated that she plowed into the poor butler who was quietly strolling through the hall. He was a godsend.

There was no way she would make out of this maze on her own.

He offered to call the driver and Qian Meng just smiled and took advantage. "Tell Mo Qingchen I will be waiting in the car," she told him when they were at the front door.

She waited in the car for fifteen minutes before he arrived. As he slid in, his jaw was locked in dissatisfaction.

"I thought you weren't coming," Qian Meng teased.

"Well, you didn't leave me with a choice, did you?" he turned to scowl at her. The car sped away and Qian Meng smirked for the rest of the day.

At the entrance, Qian Meng showed her tickets and walked in without so much as a single word.

"You'll find food, important people in the fashion industry, and even access to backstage."

"I'm sure I am not interested," he huffed.

"Well, it will be fun. If you want to leave, you are welcome to. But you need to stay at least for Marcus' show." Which was at the very end of the lineup, so she could see the whole thing without worrying.

"I wasn't told about this condition before!" he whisper-yelled.

"Oh, shush. You know how important this is for me. I work in the industry." She rolled her eyes.

"I don't get why you need to watch other people's works," he sighed. "Is this about competition intelligence?"

"Not really. These fashion shows reveal what will trend in the coming season. It's not just about what the designers make, but how many cameras flash during the show. You can distinctly gauge what the editors of the fashion magazines and personal shoppers and celebrities are eyeing this season. That helps us produce and interpret what the market wants." Her explanation was to the point.

"But what about the artistic value of clothes that you harp on?" he asked, his brow raised. Qian Meng turned to look at him, impressed. It was a surprise he knew the messaging of her brands. He had been keeping a close eye on her, too, it seemed.

"Artistic value is important," she nodded. "I am a designer myself, so I know how important it is to be inspired. But I am also a businesswoman. In my opinion, by researching the market and putting my creativity into the mix, I am combining two of my strengths. My appetite for art is satiated and the company earns a profit."

"Shrewd businesswoman, indeed," he complimented.

"Are you only producing things that you want to make and not capturing the voids in the market to make a profit?" she smirked as she contradicted. He tipped his head.

"You've caught me there. I suppose as a software designer, I understand what you mean by amalgamating creativity with demand." He turned to her with a serious look. "So, what am I supposed to do?"

His serious expression made her chuckle. "Pull out your phone and take pictures of the clothes and jewelry. I need to share it to the group chat of designers for them to play with."

"That sounds pesky. Why don't we just take a video?" he asked. Qian Meng gave him an exasperated expression.

"Videos on phone cameras cannot pick up the real movements and are usually slightly lesser quality than the photographs, so I take pictures," she explained.

"Don't compare your peasant phone with mine," he scoffed. He pulled out his phone and showed Qian Meng a recorded video. It was a ballet performance, it looked like. Mo Qingchen was sitting up in the stands but the quality was excellent even when zoomed in.

"What phone is this?" she asked. She flipped it around and saw a well-known brand.

"I tinkered around with it and changed the cameras." Qian Meng moved away. What else would you expect from Fat Cat Mo.

"Well, you take the videos and I will take photographs," she smiled sweetly.

"I can't promise to stay long. If I am bored, I will leave." That sounded preposterous. Their seats were in the very front and one couldn't walk out of a fashion show. He would have to walk into the runway and exit somehow. Qian Meng bit her lip. She could see Mo Qingchen doing that to escape. He never did have propriety.

"Learn to compromise," she said through gritted teeth.

"Why should I compromise?" he hissed. They had already been seated and Qian Meng saw many familiar faces in the crowd. From magazine editors to photographers, journalists, and high profile celebrities. She even saw employees of competing brands.

"Because you came with me and I have a reputation in the industry." She stared at him intensely.

"I couldn't care less if Marcus starts his show or not," he stated bluntly.

She let out a frustrated growl. "You may not care but I do. It's a compromise for a reason. God, you're a businessman, can't you compromise once?" She was exasperated.

Why was she even trying to get through to such a person?

He was silent as she sat there, doubting her sanity. She had wasted her time bringing him here. The realization annoyed the living hell out of her.

"Forget it," she huffed. "You're not capable of compromise." She looked away from him and waited for the lights to switch off.

Despite all of it, Mo Qingchen remained seated throughout the show. He diligently took the video and sent each file to her when the shows finished. Qian Meng refused to look at him. Mo Qingchen didn't even complain when Marcus didn't appear until the very end.

Qian Meng spoke to the people who came up to her and noticed a lot of eyes on Mo Qingchen, but no one asked her anything.

In the end, she made it to Marcus' after-party with plenty of time to spare all thanks to the insane driver.