Chapter 129: This Circle Is Truly Messy

The braised sea cucumber was over a foot long and weighed three pounds; it was tender, glutinous, and smooth, with a rich, savory sauce that was perfectly delicious.

The fifth course was chicken: straw mushroom steamed chicken. The knife work was exquisite, with the meat sliced into uniform strips one centimeter wide and six centimeters long. Winter mushrooms, winter bamboo shoots, and ham were similarly cut into strips of about seven centimeters, and the dish was garnished with carrot carvings, a signature touch unique to the Tan cuisine style.

The sixth course featured vegetable dishes: a medley of snow fungus, water bamboo shoots with shrimp roe, and braised monkey head mushrooms—all light, crisp, and elegantly refreshing.

The seventh course was fish, such as steamed mandarin fish, followed by the ninth course: soup. Options included clear clam soup and pearl soup. The latter was made from young, two-inch-long corn cobs just beginning to sprout, creating a soup that was cooling, detoxifying, and pleasantly sweet.

The final course consisted of desserts: almond tea and walnut paste, served alongside sesame buns and crispy pastries. With this, the bird’s nest and shark fin feast concluded.

A waiter brought hot towels. The guests rose and moved to the parlor, where four kinds of dried fruits and four kinds of fresh fruits were served, accompanied by individual cups of Dahongpao tea. The tea was fragrant and mellow, leaving a lingering, sweet aftertaste.

Zhuang Chen couldn't help but sigh that human planning is no match for the whims of fate. None of the warlords who once hoarded vast estates survived the ravages of time; their wealth and status withered away almost overnight. Yet, Tan Zongjun and his son—men who lived for food and cared little for grand legacies—became world-renowned, leaving behind a national treasure of culinary art. Perhaps it is their gluttony that granted them immortality.

Leaving the Tan family restaurant, he felt the trip had been well worth it. The next day, he went to the Chang'an Club as usual to swim and exercise. At noon, he called Song Qiao to invite her for lunch.

At the tenth-floor Italian restaurant, Song Qiao greeted Zhuang Chen with a charming, alluring smile. "Boss Zhuang, you're finally back!"

Zhuang Chen laughed heartily. He now considered himself one of her veteran clients; after all, food and desire are human nature, and since it was a mutual arrangement, there was nothing to be shy about. Having met several times and found the quality of her company to be excellent, he had invited her out for a proper chat.

Once Song Qiao ordered and a bottle of champagne was opened, they raised their glasses in silent understanding. Looking at Zhuang Chen, who seemed increasingly wealthy and sophisticated, Song Qiao remarked with a laugh, "Travel really does wonders for a person. You look absolutely full of vitality now!"

Zhuang Chen waved a hand dismissively and asked, "I'm tired of traveling domestically. I'm planning to go abroad. Any recommendations?"

Song Qiao sipped her champagne and replied elegantly, "No problem at all. I have connections in every country. Would you like a tour guide as well?"

"Someone of our own who is fluent in foreign languages? Or a local girl who speaks Chinese?"

Zhuang Chen said with a meaningful glint in his eyes, "Naturally, a foreigner who speaks Chinese. A guide to eat and drink with during the day, and someone to have fun with at night—wouldn't that be wonderful?"

Song Qiao giggled, her eyes sparkling, and patted her chest as she promised it would be "so easy!"

"You know," Song Qiao said, opening up after a few glasses of wine, "the modeling industry looks glamorous, but it’s actually a history written in blood and tears, much like the entertainment industry. Many people think modeling is simple—just be tall and have a good figure, and the money rolls in. They think it's just walking back and forth on a runway in nice clothes."

"My company deals with many types of models: print, runway, foot, hand, chest, exhibition, commercial, and e-commerce models..."

"Ninety-nine percent are bottom-tier. To become an international supermodel like Xi Mengyao, Zhang Zilin, He Sui, or Liu Wen? That is one in ten thousand."

Zhuang Chen nodded. It was the same as the entertainment industry; how many graduate from film academies every year, and how many actually become stars?

Seeing his interest, Song Qiao, valuing him as a long-term client, continued, "The competition is fierce. Most incomes are extremely unstable. One day you might get countless calls, and the next, you might go half a month without a single inquiry. Most models can only do it part-time."

"This circle is cruel for no reason; beauty is the only excuse. Things like 'hidden rules' and various forms of harassment are commonplace."

"A model's market value is tied to competition results. Winning a professional competition can save years of struggling on the runway. If you don't have money, do you really think you can win? The industry is full of rigged contracts and paid-for titles."

"Models are ranked from Chief to Super A, A, B, and C. 'Chief' models are like Jiang Peilin, Li Xueqing, or Du Juan. Super A are top-three winners of international competitions, A-tier are top-three in national competitions, B-tier are top-ten, and C-tier are those who haven't won awards but are doing okay at the first-tier level."

"Compared to freelance models, professional models don't necessarily have a huge income advantage. Agencies take a cut, so even if the quote is high, you might only take home 40 percent."

"The power to select models and the budget lie with the show directors. Many models, desperate to perform, willingly submit to all kinds of exploitation by these directors."

"Brand designers are the worst wolves in the fold. They contract fashion shows and trade fairs, then use the excuse of 'helping' models get work while pocketing all the money—and helping themselves to the prettiest models while they're at it."

"If you're lucky and have connections, you scramble to get into the entertainment industry. Jiang Peilin became a host, Li Xueqing moved into acting, and famous models like Chun Xiao and Li Ai chose to become hosts. They are the lucky ones."

"Those who spend over a decade in the industry without reaching the top have no suitable work once they leave. They end up doing livestreams, opening clothing stores, or running online shops. Even if you want to find a wealthy benefactor, you have to see if you have the luck for it!"

Though she spoke with a mocking tone, the darkness beneath was evident. In truth, every industry is the same; where is there absolute fairness?

As the steak was served, Song Qiao continued, "Even the top-tier Victoria's Secret show has its dark side. When Xiao Wen Ju first walked the show, she asked veteran Martha Hunt for the secret. The response? The real battleground for VS was the cafeteria."

"Whoever eats the most gets the opening walk; whoever eats the least gets the closing walk. Sounds unbelievable, right?"

"The 'hidden rule' was: it depended on how many chicken wings you ate. Fried wings and roasted wings had different weights!"

"Six hundred fried wings for balloon wings, six hundred roasted wings for feather wings. If you ate the most, congratulations, you're opening the show!"

Zhuang Chen was dumbfounded. What on earth was this?

"To put it bluntly, I don't think there are any real friends in the modeling world. Some people who look like they're helping you are actually spies for certain factions, or they’ve been planning to toy with you all along. They fake kindness while leading you into traps, silently collecting dirt to use against you later."

"Once you stop being obedient, they leak a little bit of your past—everyone has a private life—or even pressure your family. Faced with such complex interests, no one in the circle will stand up for you."

"You have nowhere to cry, and you have to swallow your pain even when your teeth are knocked out. You work yourself to the bone during the day, and at night, you smoke, drink, and lose yourself. When you wake up the next morning, you don't even know who’s sleeping next to you..."