Two days later
The venue for Milan Fashion Week was already in motion.
Xia Lihua stood in the middle of it all under a very different identity.
"HELLCAT," as the fashion world now knew her.
A silver wig fell in layered waves over her shoulders, catching the harsh backstage lighting in fragmented reflections. Her makeup was sharp, almost theatrical—metallic highlights cutting across her cheekbones, bold graphic lines reshaping the perception of her face entirely. Thick, exaggerated lashes framed her eyes so heavily that even her most recognizable feature—those sharp, phoenix-like eyes—were obscured beneath them.
No one here saw Xia Lihua.
Not even in passing.
They recognised her as HELLCAT.
A designer assistant rushed up to her, slightly breathless. "Seat assignment is confirmed. Front row, VIP section."
She gave a small nod without looking away from the runway direction.
"Understood."
