Nancy stood in front of the full-length mirror in the studio, adjusting the pleats of her skirt for the third time.
Tonight was her first official meeting after signing a sponsorship agreement with Lyon Corsica. She chose a dark green silk dress with a faint bamboo leaf pattern embroidered on the neckline - it was in line with her oriental aesthetic while being formal.
"You look stunning." Marta leaned against the door frame, holding a glass of red wine. "So, who is this mysterious sponsor?"
Nancy put on the jade earrings and pretended to be relaxed: "I'm just a businessman interested in Chinese culture."
"Businessman?" Marta raised an eyebrow. "What businessman would send bodyguards to pick up a designer for measurements? Nan, that man named Marco looks at you like a time bomb."
Nancy's fingers paused on the earrings.
Over the past week, Marco had indeed followed her everywhere, from the fabric market to the pattern-making studio, and even when she went to the Chinese community to teach painting.
What made her even more uneasy was that she began to get used to this kind of surveillance and would even subconsciously look for the black Audi when crossing the road.
"He just made sure I finished the design on time." Nancy picked up her handbag. "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."
Marta stopped her and said, "Listen, the Chinese community has been talking about the Corsica family recently. If this sponsor..."
"I'm going to be late." Nancy gently pushed her hand away, avoiding her friend's worried gaze.
Downstairs, Marco was already waiting by the car.
Today he didn't wear his usual black suit, but a dark gray three-piece suit, which made his well-defined face look less solemn.
"Mr. Corsica has changed restaurants temporarily." Marco opened the car door for her. "The new location is in the Navigli area."
Nancy frowned: "Canal District? Isn't that..." She swallowed the second half of the sentence - it used to be a gathering place for gangs, and gang conflicts often occurred there.
Marco seemed to see through her thoughts. "That's why we'll be safe tonight. No one will dare cause trouble in Mr. Corsica's new territory."
The car drove into Milan's ancient canal area, and the colorful old buildings on both sides looked particularly romantic in the twilight.
The restaurant "Antica Osteria" looks unremarkable, but the two bouncers standing at the door reveal its unusualness.
Marco led Nancy through a narrow corridor and into a secluded courtyard.
There was only one table in the open-air dining area surrounded by orange trees, and Leon Corsica was standing under the grape arbor talking on the phone.
Today he was wearing a casual dark suit, no tie, and his shirt with the top two buttons undone, revealing a scar on his collarbone. In the afterglow of the setting sun, he looked more like a weary businessman than a feared mafia boss.
"...I said no." Leon's voice was as cold as ice, "Tell Francis that if he interferes in the business of the North District again, the next meeting will not be so pleasant." He turned around and saw Nancy, his expression softened instantly, "Let's talk about it another day." He hung up the phone and walked towards Nancy.
"Sorry, we had to change the venue temporarily." Leon pulled out a chair for her. "The restaurant in the old town is too noisy and not suitable for discussing design."
Nancy noticed that when he said "design", the corners of his mouth rose slightly, as if this word was a new toy to him.
The waiter quietly brought the aperitif and the starter - an exquisite seafood platter embellished with edible gold leaf.
"I've seen the design sketches from last week." Leon got straight to the point. "I really like the oriental elements you incorporated, but the neckline is too conservative."
Nancy put down his wine glass and said, "Mr. Corsica, with all due respect, how much do you know about design?"
Marco gasped, but Leon smiled. "Just call me Leon." He cut off a piece of tuna sashimi. "I don't really understand design, but I understand power. This dress you designed is for a banquet, and the neckline is the first place to show off your jewelry and status."
"In Chinese culture, implicitness is often more powerful than explicitness." Nancy pointed to the dark pattern on the neckline in the sketch. "These cloud patterns symbolize..."
"...'Rise to prominence,' I know." Leon continued, "But this is Milan, not China. Here, power needs to be seen and respected, not speculated."
Nancy was surprised at his understanding of Chinese meaning.
The two had a heated discussion on design details, from fabric selection to tailoring concepts. Although Lyon's insights were non-professional, they always hit the nail on the head.
When the main course was halfway served, Nancy's phone vibrated.
It was a call from Mrs. Lin from the Chinese community.
"Sorry, I have to take a call." Nancy stood up and walked to the side. "Mrs. Lin? Is something wrong?"
Mrs. Lin's excited voice came from the other end of the phone: "Nancy! Those people who collected protection money suddenly withdrew today! They even returned the money they owed! They said...it was Mr. Corsica's intention..."
Nancy's fingers tightly gripped her phone as she turned back to look at the table. Leon was gracefully cutting his steak, seemingly oblivious to the conversation.
"I understand, Mrs. Lin. This is a good thing, don't worry." Nancy hung up the phone in a hurry and returned to her seat.
"Did you do anything about the Chinese community?" She looked directly into Leon's eyes.
Leon took a sip of red wine. "I just don't like seeing people charging exorbitant fees on my property."
"But you never told me."
"Tell you what? I did a good deed and I'm waiting for you to burst into tears of gratitude?" Leon sneered, "Miss Nan, I'm not a philanthropist. Those little hooligans broke the rules, that's all."
Nancy stared at his stern profile and suddenly realized the logic behind this man's behavior—he didn't care about gratitude or morality, only about order and rules. The Chinese community was protected not because of her plea, but because those hooligans had crossed the line.
"Thank you anyway." Nancy said softly.
Leon paused for a moment, then returned to normal: "Tell me about your game. What's the theme?"
"'Dialogue between East and West.'" Nancy took out a tablet and displayed a concept sketch. "I plan to use layers of silk and tulle to simulate the smudging effect of Chinese landscape paintings, but the silhouette will be in the style of a Western palace..."
Leon listened attentively to her explanation, occasionally asking questions. Before they knew it, they were talking about the restaurant closing time. As the waiter served the last of the limoncello, Leon suddenly asked, "Why did you choose Milan?"
"Because this is the fashion capital."
"No, I'm asking," Leon's blue eyes looked directly at her, "Why did you leave Hangzhou? Your family background in China is enough for you to live a comfortable life."
Nancy spun her wine glass. "My father is a professor of classical literature, and my mother studies Song Dynasty porcelain. They wanted me to carry on the academic tradition, but I..." She paused. "I want to create beautiful things, not just study them."
"So you resisted." Leon's lips curled up into a smile, "Interesting. I thought you were the kind of obedient oriental girl."
"You can't judge a person by his appearance, Mr. Corsica." Nancy countered, "Just like you look like an elegant gentleman, but in fact..."
"Actually a criminal?" Leon finished for her. He was not angry at all, but rather seemed pleased. "Miss Nan, do you know why I admire your designs? Because they are just like you—exquisite oriental silk on the surface, but a sharp blade hidden underneath."
It was late at night and Marco drove Nancy back to the apartment.
Halfway through the journey, Nancy suddenly asked, "Can we take a detour to the Chinese community? I want to confirm something."
Marco glanced at her through the rearview mirror, and without asking any questions, he turned around.
The Chinese community was quiet at this time, but Nancy still noticed that several shops that had been closed had their lights turned on again.
Posted on the community center's bulletin board is the new business schedule - no threats, no warnings, just a peaceful daily routine.
"Why did he do this?" Nancy murmured to himself.
Marco was silent for a moment, then replied, something he rarely does: "Leon never explains his decisions. But since you mentioned the plight of the Chinese community, he has retrieved all relevant reports."
Nancy's heart skipped a beat. So, it was indeed because of her that he...
Back downstairs of the apartment building, Marco stopped Nancy who was about to get off the car: "Tomorrow morning at ten o'clock, Leon wants to take you to visit a fabric factory."
Nancy nodded in agreement, but when she turned around, she heard Marco add, "Be careful, Miss Nan. Leon Corsica never shows such...interest in anyone."
Nancy stood under the street light, watching the black Audi disappear into the night.
Marco's warning was still fresh in her mind, but what made her even more uneasy was another discovery - the gleam in Leon's eyes when he talked about power and design, when he inadvertently revealed his understanding of Chinese culture, and even when he pretended to be indifferent but secretly helped the Chinese community... The image pieced together by these fragments was getting further and further away from the mafia boss she had initially imagined.
After washing up, Nancy opened the window to let the night breeze dissipate the heat from her cheeks. Her phone screen lit up, and a text message from an unfamiliar number appeared:
"The neckline is as you like. But the shoulder line needs to be sharper. Good night, designer. - L"
Nancy pressed her phone against her chest, her lips curling up unconsciously. Outside the window, the Milan night sky was dotted with stars, as if witnessing the budding of something dangerous yet beautiful.