Chapter 113 - Planning a Few Steps Ahead
The Mafia's Crybaby Wife
Lu Anâan could not help but laugh. She looked at her assistant and asked, âWho told you that?â
âThatâs what everyone says. We all think youâre much better than Gu Anning. Your submission for the semi-finals was amazing! It amazed everyone in the industry.â
âGu Anningâs work may look impressive, but I canât shake the feeling that it isnât hers,â the assistant rambled.
Lu Anâan tilted her head and asked, âWhy do you say that?â
âIâve seen plenty of works by Gu Anning, so I know her style; it does not look like something the Goddess of Flowers would design.â
âDo you suspect her of intellectual property theft?â Lu Anâan asked the assistant.
âIâm not sure what to think. Thereâs no evidence against her, and I donât want to cause unnecessary trouble for myself.â
âYouâre right.â Lu Anâan glanced at her assistant and said, âItâs better to keep such words to yourself, lest you invite trouble to your doorstep. God will punish her if she has stolen someone elseâs work.â
Lu Anâan turned to her draft design once the assistant left. Her eyes narrowed, and her mouth curled into a sneer.
So she enjoyed stealing ideas from others now, did she? She would let Gu Anning steal to her heartâs content this time!
Lu Anâan remained in the studio till the wee hours of the morning before heading home.
As soon as she left the studio, a figure sneaked in.
Lu Anâan looked at the surveillance footage on her phone and smiled. It seemed the thief had taken the bait.
......
Once home, Lu Anâan retrieved a sketchbook she had brought back from the studio.
This sketchbook contained her actual designs, the ones she was going to produce.
The wedding dress she was going to make was not for others but for herself.
With her eyes closed, she imagined how it would look, mixing and matching different fabrics to see which would work best. When the dressâs final form came to fruition, she picked up her pen and breathed life into the picture she had envisaged.
Whenever she was struck by inspiration, she would pen it down in a separate notebook; those were flights of fancy which were not suited for her primary sketchbook, though they would serve as useful points of reference in the future.
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The next day.
Lu Anâan returned to the studio and found her desk as clean as she had left it the previous night.
She smirked.
She fished for ideas from her sandbox, the notebook she kept for the bursts of inspiration she received. Settling on a few, she got to work, adding things to the draft design she had started earlier.
âDid you see that? I feel that Lu Anâan will win the competition this time.â Many of her colleagues gathered outside the studio gesturing at Lu Anâan.
âOf course. I heard that Lu Anâan is determined to win this competition.ân/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om
âItâs not surprising. Lu Anâan is very capable. I wonder how Gu Anningâs preparations are coming along.â
âHah! How can Gu Anning compare with Lu Anâan? She only got into the final round because of a stroke of luck. Someone must have made a mistake. Donât tell me you think her designs are all that good when they really arenât!â
âHey, have you heard the rumour going around? People say her last submission was a copy of Lu Anâanâs work.â
âIâve heard this rumour, but it is unsubstantiated. Besides, Lu Anâan hasnât said anything; it isnât our place as outsiders to speak up.â
âWhat are you all mumbling about?â Gu Anning rushed to meet her gossiping colleagues, slapping a document on the table before them. âIâm sure one or two of you are free!â
The crowd shook their heads as Gu Anning tried bossing them around.
âIâm so angry!â Gu Anning ground her teeth, her anger reaching a critical point. Before she could fly off the handle, Chen Guan appeared, eyeing Gu Anning with a raised brow. âGu Anning, what are you doing?â