The grass was like a soft green carpet, illuminated by the ceiling lights, and the audience was sitting on the seats. The audience was mostly invited, with the first row of magazine editors and fashion figures, as well as star performers, mostly family members with children.

At the fixed point in front, there is the media area carrying the camera.

Song Lin also came. He was very low-key on weekdays as he didn't like to be interviewed. After returning home, many media outlets wanted to interview him. He only agreed to a few.

After all, fashion isn't entertainment.

But today, when he came to see the children's fashion show, he made a point of releasing the news, so there was so much media on the scene, because some of it was specifically aimed at him.

He wanted Han Yun to see his influence and let him understand that he can help him develop his career is not empty words.

By 6:30 pm, the models had already lined up in the backstage, with each male model holding a boy in hand, the director repeatedly admonished: "No matter what happens, I will not be allowed to disturb the normal rhythm of the show, and even if there is a major emergency, I will be held back and kicked out!"

"If you fall, you won't be able to get up. This is the last mistake you can make!"

The front went smoothly and nothing went wrong.

At that point, it seemed that something had gone wrong in the front show, with the shoe straps of a small model being loosened, and the male model next to him not noticing, he had stepped on the shoe straps of the small model, tripped the small model over it, and the whole person was on the floor.

The director's face changed, and the little model almost cried, but they held back and the audience began to whisper, cameras flashing.

The male model was afraid that the rhythm would be disordered, and he quickly pulled up the little model with a snot and a tear on his face, almost dragging the model to the end of the show.

When he stepped off the stage, the show director pointed at him and scolded: "Is this your first show?! Haven't the emergency handling company taught you! Didn't you see Owen cry?"

Owen was the kid crying on the runway.

Director Xiu speaks in english and has no idea what to do with his translation, but the male model seems to understand, and he looks very ugly and quite authentic: "What else would I do? Did I stop halfway? It's not more professional."

Director Xiu has nothing to say, he was busy consoling Owen, who is crying, muttering that it hurts.

"Where does it hurt? Knee?"

Little Owen held out his hand, and saw a few tiny eyelets on his palm, one of which was still bleeding!

"This is..." Director Xiu's face changed slightly, "Where did you get it?"

Han Yun noticed that it seemed to be a model with the same company as his. As for the name, Han Yun had no impression. He couldn't remember so many people.

Soon, it was Han Yun and Louis Jr.'s turn.

The staff wore a wreath made of branches, and Han Yun was allergic to pollen. When he smelled the flowers, he immediately sneezed.

The music was about to end, and the show director pushed behind him, commanding: "The fixed time is extended for a few seconds."

Neither of them wore shoes.

Due to the rehearsal in advance, Han Yun was not nervous. During the training, the show director said: "Han Yun, you can converge your momentum, don't let it go out."

When he went out from the temporary backstage, he saw Song Lin sitting in row A, but only glanced at him, and then moved away indifferently.

Song Lin didn't show the meaning of knowing Han Yun either. He just talked to the editor-in-chief of a fashion magazine next to him. The editor-in-chief glanced over and nodded slightly.

It's a bit puny to step on the soft lawn, but the lawn has been inspected this morning, cleaned several times, so it is spotless.

As a model, Han Yun's garment was standard, but he has a beautiful face that is very rare in the model circle. When the general audience and the media watch the models, they usually look at their faces first. Only professional fashionistas look at the clothes and then the models' faces.

Han Yun's gentle, but striking, aggressive look, his facial features are flexible and deep, and those light amber eyes that are like mixed race, that sometimes even steal the limelight of the clothes. Designers don't like such models, so over the years, the original owner with a single temperament has seen a handful of regular fashion shows, but he often goes to the magazine cover of youth pain literature.

The little emperor is different. Despite wearing such an angel face, he walks with the wind. Although he has converged a little while following the words of the show guide, he has the same momentum and perfectly interprets what a beauty is like jade and a momentum like rainbow.

The entire round-shaped T stage was about 30 meters, plus the fixed time, it took only 20 seconds to walk down the path, but when he reached the middle, Han Yun suddenly felt that he had stepped on something that pierced the skin of his feet sharply.

Like... needles, and more than one.

The blood spit out quickly, and the smell of blood was difficult to smell for ordinary people, but the faint smell of bloodshot awakened the ancient beasts who were sleeping thousands of miles away in the imperial tomb.

Han Yun grew up in the palace since he was a child. He was too familiar with this method, and he quickly responded- this was artificial.

And the little Louis in his hand tightened his strength at this moment, and his steady footsteps were slowed down. The walking posture became a little strange, but he did not stop.

Han Yun glanced down at him and found that tears quickly gathered in Louis' eyes, then he looked down at Louis's feet.

Soon he reacted- Louis must have stepped on the needle as well. Although Louis was young, his professional qualities were not covered, and even if it hurts, he still kept walking, but his tears fell down as he couldn't help it.

Such an angelic child crying made people nervous, and the auditorium was agitated.

"Why are you crying?"

"Wow, he's so miserable, he wants to hug him......"

Without thinking, Han Yun quickly bent over and hugged Louis, his face covered in cold ice.

Director Xiu, his thoughts and spirits are now dead. He was shocked by the unprofessionalism of Han Yun! Obviously Louis was still going, why did he suddenly pick up the baby!

Song Lin froze, frowning slightly, wondering what happened.

Studying the Balenciaga Spring Summer Show last year? Is it intentionally arranged?

The child's skin was tender, and Han Yun himself is so badly punched that he was wrinkling his eyebrows, let alone such a small child. If he were to see that he was still bleeding, he's afraid he would faint on the spot.

He saw Director Xiu's gesture, but he didn't listen to his command at all. He held little Louis and went to the fixed position. The gloom on his face was pressed down by him. Although he was holding the baby, he was wearing a soft pajama, and he also wears a fairy wreath on his head, but his posture is very aggressive and flamboyant. He has an inherent sense of aristocracy all over his body, and his atmosphere is extraordinary- there is no male model who shows like him.

No doubt, it is the most valuable label for a model, it is crucial to be able to remember that it is better to walk steadily than to be distinctive.

Faced with the flash, Han Yun was less well trained than the original owner, and as he edged his face to avoid the flash, Louis seemed to have inadvertently leaned his head against his cheek, his blond hair tied to his fair neck, and Louis soft lips kissed him on his side face.

The media who carried the cameras suddenly refreshed, and desperately pressed the shutter. There were also many viewers in the auditorium who took videos and took photos without regulations.

At the same time, in the middle of an unmarked desert mausoleum, a man with two black horns on his head is winced by the untraceable blood.

More than a decade ago, archeologists discovered Emperor Jing's Mausoleum in Mt. Beibei, and a lot of tourists and rowdiness were made to figure out the age by digging shallow tables and building museums on the ground. Fu yuan, who did not want to kill, moved the entire mausoleum to the depths of the Sahara Desert with the mountains, a arid, untrammeled and quiet place.

Because of this, his exhaustion of spiritual power can only be reduced to the original form, sleeping peacefully in the tomb of Han Yun, accompanied by the bones of the king, just like the long one thousand years before.

He slowly opened his eyes, and the fading blood smell in the air made his black eyes, which were already bottomless, deeper, like an abyss.

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The author has something to say: My flag didn't fall! Yeah!