Chapter 4 - Chapter 4: The Style War of the Stellar Veil Project

The morning meetings at Stellar Veil always start with a cup of hot black tea. It was Seraphina's third day on the job. She had just brewed her tea at her workstation when the project assistant called her into the large conference room — Mrs. Graham, the client representative for the "Stellar Mist" project, had arrived. Rumor had it that this art collector was particularly picky about the image of "Freyja." The moment she pushed open the door, she felt the tension in the air. On one side of the long table, Mrs. Graham, dressed in a pearl-white suit, was scanning the initial draft of Freyja on the projection screen with a critical eye — the goddess in the painting wore silver armor, held a war hammer, had a raven symbolizing "love and war" perched on her shoulder, and her pupils held the starlight of a foggy London night, perfectly capturing the "daring to love and hate" essence from Norse mythology. "Miss Voss," Mrs. Graham's voice carried an undeniable authority, "I find this image too sharp. Most of my clients are housewives; they need a 'softer' goddess — remove the war hammer and the raven, replace the silver armor with a pink gauze dress, and change the fog in her pupils to a rainbow. That way, it would be suitable for a child's room." Seraphina's grip on her paintbrush tightened as she tried to keep her tone calm: "Mrs. Graham, Freyja is the Norse goddess of love and war. The war hammer is her weapon, and the raven is her symbol. Weakening these elements would be a betrayal of the myth's core. Moreover, the 'Stellar Mist' project is positioned as adult-oriented art derivatives, not children's toys." "Positioning?" Mrs. Graham scoffed, tapping the contract on the corner of the table. "Stellar Veil took my investment, so you should modify it according to my requirements. I don't care about any mythic core; all I want is work that 'sells.'" The atmosphere in the conference room instantly froze. The project team members all hung their heads, no one daring to contradict her — everyone knew Mrs. Graham's influence in London's art circle, and offending her would be equivalent to cutting off one of the studio's collaboration channels. As Seraphina looked at the Freyja she had painted on the screen, she suddenly remembered Clara saying, "Your style is too dark," and her chest felt tight and painful, as if something were blocking it. Just then, the conference room door was gently pushed open. Elara walked in, holding a document, the chill from outside still clinging to her charcoal-gray suit. She didn't look at Mrs. Graham but went straight to the projection screen, placed the document on the long table, and pointed a finger at one clause: "Mrs. Graham, Article 7 of the contract clearly states that the 'Stellar Mist' project is positioned as 'adult-oriented Norse mythology art derivatives,' and the乙方 (party B) has the right to refuse modification requests that contradict the core positioning. If the甲方 (party A) insists on such requests, it will constitute a breach of contract, and Stellar Veil has the right to terminate the cooperation and recover the initial investment." Mrs. Graham's expression changed instantly. She hadn't expected Elara to bring up the contract directly. She stared at the document for a long while before barely maintaining her dignity: "Director Hale, I was just making a suggestion. Is there a need to be so rigid about it?" "Artistic creation requires rigidity," Elara's voice remained calm but carried an unshakable resolve. "Freyja's image is not a 'commodity'; it is a respect for mythology and for the aesthetic of the buyers. If you insist on the modifications, we can contact our lawyers right now." Mrs. Graham opened her mouth but ultimately didn't dare to argue further — she was well aware of Stellar Veil's strength, and if it really came to a termination, she would suffer greater losses. She let out a cold哼 (huff), picked up her bag, and said, "I'll discuss this with my team again. I hope you can come up with a 'reasonable' proposal." With that, she left the conference room in her high-heeled shoes. The moment the door closed, low cheers erupted in the conference room. The project team members纷纷 (one after another) gave Seraphina a "cheer" gesture, and even the usually serious technical director smiled and said, "Miss Voss, you looked fantastic when you反驳 (contradicted) her just now!" Before Seraphina could recover from her shock, Elara pulled her into the top-floor office. It was much quieter here than in the large conference room. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, they could see the boats on the River Thames. On the desk was the half cup of black tea she hadn't finished that morning, and next to it was an almond croissant — it was the flavor from her favorite Chelsea bakery. "Getting caught up in something like this on your first week, did it scare you?" Elara handed her a cup of hot cocoa, with marshmallows slowly melting in it. "I knew you wouldn't compromise, just like when you were at Cambridge, you'd rather be criticized by the teacher than alter the brushstrokes of *Night Fox*." Seraphina took the hot cocoa, and warmth spread from her fingertips to her heart. She suddenly remembered Elara saying during the interview, "There's a sense of contradiction in your style," and realized that Elara had remembered her persistence all along. She watched as Elara opened the bookshelf, pulled out a 19th-century *Atlas of Norse Mythology*, and flipped to the chapter on Freyja: "Look, even the Victorian illustrators didn't weaken her sense of power — true art never compromises to please." At that moment, Seraphina accidentally knocked over the coffee cup on the desk, and the dark brown liquid instantly soaked Elara's suit jacket. "I'm sorry!" She hurriedly took out a tissue to wipe it, but her fingers felt a stiff piece of paper in the inner pocket of the suit — it was a folded note. The writing on it was somewhat blurred, but she could make out the opening words "To Clara" and a small line next to it: "The rain that day was as heavy as it is today." It was a fragment from the love letter she had written in high school. Seraphina's movements suddenly froze, and she looked up at Elara. The tips of Elara's ears were slightly red, but she didn't avoid her gaze. She just said softly, "I never threw it away. I always thought... that one day I could return it to you in person." The sunlight outside the window streamed through the glass onto the note, and the words, which had been blurred by the passage of time, suddenly became clear. As Seraphina held the note, she suddenly felt that those lost times seemed to be slowly being made up for — just like the star trails in the fog, finally finding their correct path. Edit Share