Mingzhu Tower was the largest shopping mall in Dongshan City, packed with domestic and international brands. Floors eight to ten were especially devoted to luxury goods.
Chen Xinan didn't care much about fashion or appearances. But for something as important as a wedding, dressing properly was only natural.
So Ning Xiruo had Xiao Zhou escort him here to pick out a few sets of clothes, and he didn't object.
"Where are we going? Isn't the third floor for clothes?" Chen Xinan asked, quickly losing interest in the mall after a few steps.
Xiao Zhou gave him a sharp look. "Do you think the clothes on the third floor are suitable? Luxury brands are on the tenth floor."
"Why can't they be? They look fine to me." Chen Xinan tilted his head, puzzled.
Xiao Zhou guided him up the escalator, glancing back. "Listen carefully. You're marrying the CEO of Liangmao Group, worth hundreds of billions.
If you wear clothes worth just a few hundred or a few thousand beside her, you're embarrassing her!
Don't worry about spending money; you don't need to make decisions. Just follow me."
Chen Xinan waved at the moving steps beneath him, completely distracted. "Clothes don't matter. Embarrassment isn't in the outfit—it's in the person!"
"Forget it, you said it's not your money, so why worry? You just follow me! Wow, the stairs move on their own! Amazing!"
"Country bumpkin!" Xiao Zhou rolled her eyes, exasperated. This guy must have crawled out of some ancient tomb. Never seen anything modern! She shuddered at the thought of him marrying into the Ning family.
By the time they reached the tenth-floor luxury boutiques, the area was practically empty—not a peak shopping hour.
Xiao Zhou led Chen Xinan through two stores, but nothing seemed suitable. She was still enjoying herself, but Chen Xinan grew bored and flopped onto a nearby chair.
"You go pick what you like. Call me over when you find something worth trying," he said lazily.
Xiao Zhou rolled her eyes and left him there. "Fine, I'll select the outfits. Don't wander off, or you're on your own!"
Left alone, Chen Xinan glanced around and spotted a shop selling traditional Han clothing. His eyes lit up.
He didn't know much about Hanfu, but its style immediately drew him in. It was like a suit but with a stand-up collar—looser and more comfortable.
Modern young people often avoided it, considering it less formal than Western suits. Plus, Hanfu required the right body shape; otherwise, it hung loosely like a cheap, washed-out suit.
Chen Xinan approached a blue Hanfu displayed in the window, reaching out, when a shop attendant snapped:
"Hey! Don't touch! Look outside, don't handle things!"
"Excuse me, isn't this for sale?" Chen Xinan asked, confused.
The attendant scoffed. "Of course it's for sale, but can you afford it? That set is 178,000 yuan. Want it? Then touch it!"
Chen Xinan, though indifferent to money, bristled at her condescending tone. "So I have to buy it just to look? What if it doesn't fit? Isn't that forced selling?"
The attendant's impatience grew. "Do you know why you're here? Are you shopping or just browsing? You obviously can't afford anything here! If you dirty it, you can't pay!"
Chen Xinan's temper flared, but before he could retort, an elderly man nearby frowned and said:
"Miss, this isn't how you should run a business! Shops should welcome all customers equally. Don't judge people by wealth. Your behavior will scare them away."
Chen Xinan nodded eagerly. "See? This gentleman speaks wisely—clearly cultured and experienced!"
The attendant forced a smile, replying, "Sir, I understand, but it depends on the situation. Today, it's just me here. This person obviously can't afford it; if he damages it, I'd be responsible. Right?"
The elder scowled. "So why does everyone else get to touch the clothes without concern, but only him? It's because you look down on him!"
The attendant's patience snapped. "Sir, why meddle? Mind your own business! Not everyone loves to interfere like you! And whether this shop lasts doesn't concern me. I get paid for one day of work per day!"
The elder, furious, tried to argue but lost his balance. Chen Xinan sprang up, catching him effortlessly in his arms.
The attendant sneered. "Old man, you're faking it! Too bad we have cameras—can't blame me!"
"Shut up!" Chen Xinan snapped. He examined the elder's ashen face, checked his eyes and mouth, and frowned.
"Coronary heart disease—angina," he muttered. Without hesitation, he set the elder down, retrieved a wooden box from his pocket, and took out silver acupuncture needles. He loosened the elder's shirt and expertly inserted a dozen needles into his chest and heart area.