That eased his last shred of mental burden.
He wasn’t someone who craved attention, even without the complications of the Po Qing Society, he’d never have been comfortable performing onstage unmasked.
Not showing his face made it far more bearable.
Stepping out of the dressing room, the two women were still busy.
Ye Chen waited by the door for a bit, when it finally opened, he was momentarily stunned by the sight of two classically elegant beauties stepping out.
Gu Qiuyi was a given, born into a prominent Yanjing family, she’d been steeped in traditional values since childhood, giving her a natural air that fit the refined grace of an ancient noblewoman.
As she stepped out, her silk gown swayed like a lotus in the breeze, her dark hair elegantly pinned up with a jade-green hairpin that jangled softly with each step, she looked as if she’d walked straight out of an old painting, utterly seamless, leaving Ye Chen in awe.
Tawana, being Caucasian with blonde hair and blue eyes, had seemed to Ye Chen like she’d clash with traditional Chinese attire, but surprisingly, after her curly locks were straightened and adorned with classic Chinese hairpieces, she exuded an elegant charm, the dissonance mostly faded, replaced by a striking fusion of Eastern and Western beauty.
When they emerged and saw the masked, sword-wielding assassin standing outside, they flinched at first, then realised it must be Ye Chen.
Gu Qiuyi dashed over first, beaming as she asked, “Brother Ye Chen, what do you think of my look? Is it alright?”
Ye Chen said sincerely, “Alright? It’s absolutely stunning.”
There was one thing he didn’t dare say aloud, Gu Qiuyi was the second-best person he’d ever seen for this ancient style.
As for the first, that would undoubtedly be Lin Wan’er, who’d lived four hundred years, no one in the world could replicate the pure classical aura she carried from centuries past.
Tawana stepped closer, a mix of shyness and nerves in her voice as she asked, “Mr. Ye, do I look ridiculous wearing your traditional Chinese clothes?”
“Not at all!” Ye Chen blurted out, “I don’t know how your Western fans will see this outfit, but I can guarantee every Chinese fan will love it, not only does it look amazing on you, it shows huge respect for our culture and your countless fans here.”
Tawana’s eyes sparkled with a hint of affection as she asked, “Does that include you, Mr. Ye?”
Ye Chen nodded, “Of course!”
Tawana instantly lit up with joy.
A woman dresses up for the one she admires, even if Western women hadn’t heard that saying, they’d surely feel the same.
Why had she invited Gu Qiuyi to perform together? Why had she learned Gu Qiuyi’s songs last-minute to sing with her? Why was this her first time wearing traditional Chinese attire?
It was all for the man standing before her.
As long as he liked it, even just a word of praise made all her efforts worthwhile.
Gu Qiuyi, growing impatient, grabbed Ye Chen’s arm excitedly, “Brother Ye Chen, let’s run through it onstage, I can’t wait to perform with you!”
She giggled and added, “Oh, and since Tawana and I are singing this song together, you’ll be interacting with both of us up there!”
