Chapter 8: The Goddess's Image Shattered

At eight-thirty in the morning, a long line had already formed outside the International Convention and Exhibition Center.

Jiang Ye raised his hand to shield his eyes from the glaring sunlight and looked at the colorful crowd before him. For the first time, he began to doubt his decision.

“What is all this about...?”

He glanced down to verify the address on his phone, then looked up to confirm the banner above the hall that read “International Animation and Game Expo.”

A girl dressed in a Lolita dress passed by him, the hoop skirt brushing against his backpack strap.

“Sorry, big brother~” the girl winked at him, the butterfly-shaped hairpin on her head sparkling in the sunlight.

Jiang Ye nodded stiffly, feeling as if he had wandered into a different world.

Inside the exhibition hall, a blast of air conditioning greeted him, followed by deafening otaku dance music and the constant clicking of camera shutters.

He instinctively pulled out his phone—no messages from Chen Duling.

“Are you here alone, big brother?”

Three girls in sailor uniforms blocked his way. The one in the middle, with twin ponytails, shook her phone at him. “Want to collect stamps?”

“Col...lect stamps?” Jiang Ye frowned in confusion. “Isn’t this an anime expo?”

The girls burst out laughing. The twin-tailed girl held up her phone. “It means taking pictures together! Which character are you cosplaying? It’s so rare to see an amateur this handsome!”

Before Jiang Ye could respond, a familiar cool voice came from behind.

“He’s mine.”

Turning around, Jiang Ye’s breath caught.

The blue short hair gleamed with a pearly sheen under the lights, and the wine-red formal jacket outlined a slender waist.

Chen Duling, cosplaying as Ciel Phantomhive, stood with arms crossed, her black thigh-high stockings tapping impatiently on the floor.

“Had enough of looking?” Chen Duling lowered her voice, though her ears were flushed red as if about to bleed. “I told you, it’s for work…”

Jiang Ye suddenly laughed out loud, reaching out to touch her wig but stopping mid-air. “Xiao Chen, you’re…”

“Shut up!” Chen Duling tossed a paper bag into his arms. “Change into this. Director Su said it’s for immersive fieldwork.”

?????

Jiang Ye was stunned!

He too?

Cosplay?

Inside the bag was a black butler outfit.

As Jiang Ye unfolded the clothes in the dressing room, he found a small note taped to the lining:

“The Sebastian size is a bit large; just make do. — D D”

Twenty minutes later, when Jiang Ye stepped out tugging at his bow tie, the entire West Wing corridor suddenly fell into an eerie silence, then erupted into a chorus of screams.

“Ahhh, it’s Sebastian-chan!”

“Is this waistline even real?!”

“Hey, big brother, look this way!”

Jiang Ye squinted against the flashing lights.

The tailored black suit perfectly accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow waist, while the red contact lenses made his gaze even deeper.

He instinctively raised a hand to adjust the wig on his head, triggering another round of screams.

“Don’t move.” Chen Duling appeared beside him without him noticing, standing on tiptoe to fix his bow tie.

The blue wig brushed his chin, carrying the sweet scent of gardenia shampoo. “Your collar’s folded inward.”

Jiang Ye looked down and saw the girl’s thick eyelashes trembling. She was so close he could see the fine fuzz on her cheeks.

When her fingertips touched his Adam’s apple, both stiffened momentarily.

“All set.” Chen Duling stepped back quickly, her voice rising eight tones higher. “Let’s, uh, go explore.”

But soon, they were surrounded by a crowd.

“Butler, look this way!”

“Master Ciel, can you make a heart sign?”

Chen Duling expertly struck the character’s classic pose: one gloved hand placed over her chest, the other hanging naturally.

Jiang Ye copied her stance, standing rigidly like a life-size cardboard cutout.

“Relax a bit,” Chen Duling whispered with a mischievous smile. “Jiang, aren’t you good at acting? Don’t you like teaching people how to move on stage?”

“Is this the same thing?” Jiang Ye forced a stiff smile, gritting his teeth to reply, “If I’d known this was part of the ‘work assignment,’ I would’ve…”

“Would’ve what?” Chen Duling suddenly spun around, glaring at him fiercely. “Regret coming here?”

A photographer wearing a panda head suddenly shouted, “Could you two get a bit closer? A butler should hold the master’s waist, right?”

The teasing erupted instantly.

Jiang Ye was stunned—there was even such a perk?

But he still looked at Chen Duling with a troubled expression. “Xiao Chen, look at this…”

“It’s just a photo.” Chen Duling pursed her lips, her voice barely audible. “Be professional.”

He carefully placed his hand on her waist. Through the fabric of her dress, he could feel the taut muscle beneath.

Suddenly, Chen Duling turned and whispered a line from the character. This gesture pressed Jiang Ye’s palm completely against the hollow of her waist.

Incredible delicacy, as if a little force would break her.

“Little Brother Jiang,” Chen Duling suddenly whispered, only he could hear, “your hand is shaking.”

Jiang Ye: “...”

The flashbulbs kept firing wildly.

Despite her ears reddened as if bleeding, Chen Duling seriously adjusted their angles so the photographer could capture a profile shot, occasionally coaching Jiang Ye: “Lower your head a bit... no, tilt it toward me... Oh my, you’re even clumsier than Oho!”

“You weren’t this professional when filming, were you?” Jiang Ye couldn’t help but tease.

“Shut up. Look at the camera at three o’clock!”

After the photoshoot, the two wandered aimlessly through the exhibition hall.

Jiang Ye held a freshly purchased crepe, watching Chen Duling linger in front of a doujin booth.

“If you like it, buy it,” he said, leaning closer.

Chen Duling shook her head. “I don’t cosplay anymore…”

But her eyes remained fixed on a black butler badge.

Without hesitation, Jiang Ye scanned the code to pay. To Chen Duling’s surprise, he pinned the badge to his collar. “It’s mine now, I’m just lending it to you for a look.”

“Childish.” Chen Duling turned to leave but the corner of her mouth twitched upward subtly.

The evening heat had yet to dissipate as the two stood outside the convention center after a day’s wandering.

“Hey,” she kicked Jiang Ye’s shoe tip. “You did well today. Big sister will treat you to noodles.”

Jiang Ye looked down at his white sneakers, now dirtied from being stepped on, raising an eyebrow. “Xiao Chen, since when did you get so generous?”

“Come or not, your choice.” She turned to leave but slowed her pace, waiting for him to catch up. “There’s a satay noodle place near Xiamen University… only locals know about it.”

Twenty minutes later, they turned into a narrow alley.

The mottled walls were covered in bougainvillea, and at the end hung a sign reading “Grandma’s Satay.”

Just as Jiang Ye reached to push the door open, Chen Duling suddenly grabbed his sleeve.

“Wait!”

Flustered, she removed her wig, revealing sweat-dampened bangs.

“Now it’s okay,” she said, fixing the collar of her T-shirt, transforming back into the cool, aloof leading actress.

Inside, the fan creaked as Grandma, wearing a floral blouse, placed two bowls of satay noodles floating with red chili oil on the table.

Chen Duling’s eyes lit up. She expertly pulled out a 1.5-liter Coke from the fridge and slammed it onto the table.

“So thirsty!” She tilted the bottle back and gulped it down, her throat drawing a graceful line.

Only when the carbonation bubbles spilled over her lips did she suddenly freeze. Jiang Ye was staring at her with his chopsticks poised, wide-eyed.

Oh no, he’d forgotten there was a little rascal sitting opposite!

“Want some?” Chen Duling feigned calm and poured a glass from the bottle she’d just drunk from.

Jiang Ye: “...”

He looked across at the girl, who was trying to act composed—was she the chosen literary heroine? The science prodigy? The cool and distant beauty?

At this moment, the image in his heart shattered completely...