Qiao Mo sat in the front row, elegantly crossing her legs, listening attentively to the host’s opening speech.
Not far from her, Yu Qianxun stared at her in a daze, repeatedly doubting her own eyes.
It seed her gaze was too intense, causing Qiao Mo to notice and turn her head to look at her.
Their eyes t in the air briefly, and Qiao Mo slightly nodded, akin to greeting her.
Yu Qianxun was stunned again, yet inwardly terribly shocked.
Is this... is this Qiao Mo?
No... how can it be?
Wasn’t Qiao Mo... wasn’t she supposed to be dead?
"Next, let’s invite our group’s founder, also the chief designer of NORTH, Ms. Qiao Monian, to the stage for a speech."
The audience erupted in thunderous applause instantly, many eyes focused on Qiao Mo, filled with curiosity.
After all, this brand had risen swiftly, and the founder and designer behind the scenes were quite famous.
However, she had always been very low-key, with almost no one having seen her in person.
No one expected that returning to the country to hold a press conference, she would personally take the stage, piquing the interest of everyone present.
Yet, as the spotlight hit Qiao Mo, a few people in the audience couldn’t help but whisper.
"Do you think she resembles Qiao Mo from back then..."
"Yes, now that you ntion it, I also think she looks quite similar."
Of course, three years’ ti was enough for many to forget many things, allowing most just to find her overly familiar, yet unable to connect her with Qiao Mo in a short span.
"First of all, thank you all for attending the NORTH brand press conference. NORTH is still a relatively new brand. Although it has established a foothold in the overseas market first, it has yet to carve out its place in the dostic market..."
Qiao Mo spoke calmly, as if such speeches and occasions were as routine for her as everyday als, without any hint of nervousness.
Additionally, her every expression seed radiant, captivating everyone in the audience.
Qiao Mo’s speech did not last long; it wrapped up in about five minutes.
Afterward, she sat back in the front row, and the entire hall dimd alongside. The host returned and briefly spoke a few words, which signaled the models to start taking turns on stage.
...
At the sa ti, the elevator doors on the first floor slowly opened.
Five or six n surrounded a tall man as he stepped out of the elevator.
The man bore a cold expression, his dark eyes as still as an ancient well, exuding a bone-deep chill.
"Mr. Fu... we’ve reserved a table at Tingyu Pavilion, hoping you’d..."
A slightly plump man trailing behind him cautiously began speaking.
However, before his words were finished, Fu Nancheng’s brow slightly furrowed.
Zhuo Lin noticed and promptly interrupted, "Boss Wang, you know our president’s rules."
"Yes... yes, if Mr. Fu doesn’t have ti, we’ll drop it, drop it." The man wiped the sweat off his forehead, wearing a smile.
With the bodyguards clearing a path, Fu Nancheng walked towards the door, his expression icy.
After taking just a few steps, he seed to recall sothing, raising his eyes to look towards the conference site, bathed in a deep blue light.
Except for the bright stage, nearly every place beneath was shrouded in dark blue, with the view not very clear.
He stood there for a while, seemingly searching for sothing.
Zhuo Lin and the others remained two ters behind him, daring not to make any rash moves.
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