Chapter 116

After dinner, Cynthia and Preston went to the sky bar, a sprawling rooftop terrace atop the hotel. The terrace was an enchanting haven, with exotic flowers and plants arranged like a floating garden. A vine-draped stage stood at its center, adding to the whimsical atmosphere. It felt like stepping into a storybook. The terrace was already bustling when they arrived.

Preston disappeared backstage, leaving Cynthia to casually accept a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. Leaning against the glass railing, she had the perfect view of both the stage and the breathtaking nighttime vista of Pillere.

Soon, Preston appeared onstage with a guitar. Initially, the guests—either admiring the view, chatting, or clinking glasses—paid him little attention. However, the moment his guitar strings hummed and his voice filled the night, a stunned silence fell over the crowd. His voice was beautiful, ethereal, and clear, as if echoing from afar. It evoked the image of a deer in a forest, instantly transporting everyone to a fairytale realm.

He was singing a Friyxian country ballad. The simple yet soul-stirring melody, combined with his pure, resonant voice, felt like the first sunlight breaking over a quiet mountain meadow—clean and warm.

Cynthia's gaze drifted to Preston. He was like a sunflower grown under the sun's tender light—radiant, optimistic, brimming with youthful vitality. It reminded her of Jonathan, who had once been like that.

When Cynthia first met Jonathan, he was like the scorching midday sun, blazing with intensity. Every interaction felt like being melted by his heat. However, she later realized that his intense, passionate aura was a facade, a disguise for his role as her kept man. His true nature was cold indifference, an aloofness that sharply contrasted with the fleeting warmth he showed in moments of intimacy.

Preston, however, was different. He wasn't a blazing sun but the gentle dawn, radiating a pure, steadily spreading warmth that illuminated everything around him. One man was an unfathomable pool of icy fire; the other, the sun breaking through the horizon.

Cynthia shook her head, feeling slightly tipsy. Twenty days had passed since their breakup, yet she still couldn't shake thoughts of Jonathan. Perhaps his unexpected appearance a few days earlier had unsettled her.

Preston's performance concluded to thunderous applause. "Encore! Encore!" the audience cried, yearning for another song. Without hesitation, he picked up his guitar and began another. His gaze lingered on Cynthia, who seemed distracted. Yet, when their eyes met, her radiant smile infused him with a surge of strength.

However, Cynthia didn't stay for the entire second song. She slipped away halfway through, leaving Preston slightly disappointed.

After the performance, Preston checked his phone and found a message from Cynthia: "Great show! I'm off to catch some beauty sleep. Goodnight."

His earlier disappointment vanished. He typed and deleted several responses before finally settling on: "Goodnight, Cynthia."

The next day, Cynthia packed a small suitcase and headed to the palace. The Pillere Fashion Design Competition was about to begin.

After a rigorous selection process, 100 designers from various countries and regions had been chosen to compete. The rules were simple: the host would announce the theme live; contestants would have 48 hours to create and present a design; on the third day, the creations would be displayed and judged by 48 judges; ten outstanding works would be selected; and ten prestigious awards would be given, including the Best Design Award, Best Art Award, Best Fashion Award, Best Market Appeal Award, and others. These category awards were considered equal.

The most coveted prize, however, was the Golden Pinnacle Award, reserved for a single winner and potentially overlapping with the category awards. To date, no contestant had ever won both a category award and the Golden Pinnacle Award in the same year. Cynthia, a seven-year contestant, had once won the Golden Pinnacle Award; her other achievements were category awards.

Cynthia and Shirley had a bet: winning a single category award constituted victory; otherwise, the wager was voided. Even a category award was a significant achievement. Statistically, the odds of winning were only one in ten. Each contestant was a star in the design world, many representing globally renowned luxury brands.

The competition prided itself on fairness. The 48 judges included creative directors, executives from high-end brands, and legendary designers. These artists, known for their high ideals, considered design their lifeblood and were above being swayed by money. The brand executives aimed to discover future trendsetters. The event was broadcast globally.

At 9:00 a.m., the 100 designers entered the venue. Cynthia spotted Shirley. This was Shirley's first time in such an exclusive environment; the sophisticated setting felt like another world. Shirley was acutely aware of the high standards; every participant was a genius from world-renowned brands or studios. Shirley had qualified only because of Veloric, a name that held little weight among the elite.

As she navigated the event, Shirley desperately tried to network, but her poor Enmerian hindered her. She then noticed Cynthia, at ease and smiling, conversing fluently in Eumerian with other designers as if they were old friends.

Shirley clenched her fists. If not for their switched births, it should have been her standing there, radiant and poised.

Soon, the designers took their seats, and the host appeared onstage. After the formalities, the host announced, "The theme of"