Paris, France.
At night, the Seine shimmered under soft ripples, the Eiffel Tower standing silently in the distance.Countless city lights fell like stars to the earth.
Outside the Grand Palais de la Mode, the red carpet ceremony was in full grandeur.
This was the most prestigious annual event in the global fashion industry.The "VOGUE Emerging Power of the Year" award, the final and most coveted honor of the night, drew attention from all corners of the world.
When the host finally announced her name—
"Ms. Xu Zhiyi, from China."
A wave of camera flashes exploded like fireworks.
—
Xu Zhiyi stepped gracefully onto the red carpet.
She wore a pure white off-shoulder gown.The long hem trailed behind her, the silhouette flowing like water, hugging her figure with quiet strength.
A simple silver-embroidered insignia adorned her chest—the latest emblem from Zhixu, her brand, and a subtle homage to her own name.
She smiled faintly, waving elegantly toward the cameras.
Step by step, she ascended the staircase to the top—where the entire world awaited her.
In that moment, she became the first female Chinese designer to receive this honor on that stage.
And far from the dazzling lights—
A black car sat silently behind the crowd.
Its window rolled down slowly.
Lu Yancheng leaned back in his seat, eyes fixed on her from afar.
His gaze settled on her figure wrapped in white, expression unreadable—heavy, and conflicted.
She stood there, radiant and untouchable—like snow descending from the stars, ethereal and poised.
He felt a bitter laugh rising in his throat.
This woman…
Once stood in the kitchen, covered in steam and grease, just to cook him a bowl of soup.
Once stayed up late into the night, knitting him a scarf and baking a cake for his birthday—placing them quietly on his desk without ever saying a word.
And now—
She stood beneath the world's spotlight.
And none of it…had anything to do with him anymore.
—
When the host asked her to share a few words, she took the microphone and spoke gently:
"Thank you for recognizing the work of me and my Zhixu team."
"Five years ago, I truly believed I would never set foot on a stage again."
"But I later realized—no matter how cruel the world is, as long as you believe in yourself and start again, you become your own light."
"Standing here today isn't about luck."
"It's because—I've finally stopped living for anyone else. I live for myself now."
Thunderous applause erupted.
From beyond the fences and the crowd, Lu Yancheng heard every word.
Each syllable hit him like a hammer to the chest—because he knew…what kind of pain, what kind of scars—he had personally caused to create this woman now standing tall.
He slowly closed his eyes and whispered:
"I'm sorry… I was too late."
—
After the ceremony, she descended the stage, met with reporters, signed autographs, posed for photos.
The spotlight loved her.
She never once looked in his direction.
As if—she had truly erased him from her life.
—
When the event came to an end and the crowd began to disperse, Lu Yancheng remained behind the iron barricade, unmoving.
Chen Ze leaned over and asked softly:
"Shall I try to stop her?"
But Lu Yancheng shook his head, his eyes locked on her silhouette as it grew smaller and smaller.
"She won't stop."
"She… no longer belongs to me."
For the first time, his voice carried the weight—
of a man who had truly, completely lost.