Over the next three months, Yan Yan's life underwent a complete transformation. Mother Zhao had devised an extremely rigorous training plan for her, encompassing daily yoga, fitness routines, and strict dietary control.
Every morning, as the first rays of sunlight streamed through the windows of her room, Yan Yan would get up early to begin her grueling yoga training. Her body was constantly stretched and contorted, each movement requiring immense effort. She gritted her teeth, sweat pouring down her face and soaking her clothes.
Mother Zhao personally supervised her training, her eyes sharp, not missing a single detail. Yan Yan knew she had to give it her all, without any slack. She strained to bend her body to its limits, feeling the ache and pull of her muscles. Each breath became heavy and rapid, but she persisted, with only one belief in her heart: to become better.
In addition to physical transformation, Mother Zhao also focused on Yan Yan's external image. She hired professional makeup artists and stylists for Yan Yan, teaching her how to apply makeup and choose outfits. Yan Yan's hairstyle was meticulously styled, cascading down her shoulders like a waterfall, and her makeup became more refined, like a blooming flower.
During this process, Yan Yan's psychology also underwent a huge change. From the initial exhaustion and complaints, she gradually became resolute and confident. She understood that only through constant effort could she achieve her goals. She learned to endure and persevere, and she cherished everything she possessed even more.
As time went on, both Yan Yan's body and appearance underwent amazing changes. Her figure became slimmer and more toned, and her temperament became more elegant. She was grateful for Mother Zhao's strict demands because they allowed her to see her potential and possibilities. Yan Yan knew that the road ahead was still long, but she was prepared to meet more challenges and opportunities.
Mother Zhao's team of tailors swarmed the villa at five in the morning, tape measures like snakes coiling around Yan Yan's body. The white-haired old tailor used a silver needle to pin her shoulder blade: "Shoulder width 39.2, 0.5 centimeters over the standard." Mother Zhao immediately called the yoga instructor: "Add two hours of shoulder-opening training tomorrow."
When her hip measurement was taken, Yan Yan was forced to remove all but her slip. Mother Zhao used an ivory folding fan to lift her chin: "The pelvic bones are wide enough, but unfortunately, the bust is sagging." The cold calipers clamped onto her chest, as the designer noted on the blueprint: "Needs custom-made, thick lace lining."
Snow fell outside the window. Yan Yan looked at herself in the mirror, covered in size tags, and thought of the butcher back home measuring every piece of good meat when they slaughtered the New Year's pig in the twelfth lunar month.
As the stylist snipped off the last split end, Mother Zhao suddenly grabbed Yan Yan's bangs: "The distance between your eyes is 0.3 millimeters too wide. Add some eyeliner." While tracing her eye, the makeup brush suddenly poked into her tear duct, and Yan Yan's tears ruined her makeup.
She thought of her father in the hospital, wondering if his condition had improved. She thought of her deaf and mute younger brother, the child who always looked at her with pure eyes, wondering if he was thinking of her now. She thought of her deceased mother, knowing that if her mother were still alive, she wouldn't have let her make this decision.
What would the future hold? Would she really be trapped in this seemingly gorgeous but prison-like place for the rest of her life, becoming the person they thought was worthy of Zhao Mingyuan? Yan Yan was filled with confusion and helplessness. The snow outside the window was still falling, as if sighing for her fate. But she knew that she couldn't keep wallowing in despair; she had to find a way to change everything.
In a small Western-style house shaded by phoenix trees, a manners teacher who had studied in France held a silver-handled riding crop. Yan Yan practiced her posture with the Cihai on her head. The riding crop suddenly struck her knee: "Close your legs! Don't let Mrs. Zhao lose face when she takes you to meet people."
"You can't stir the tea more than three times." The teacher held her wrist and poured in Darjeeling Tea. "Lift the corners of your lips 15 degrees, like this—" The person in the mirror smiled with a perfect arc, but Yan Yan thought of her brother's face, covered in oil stains at the auto repair shop.
During the break, Mrs. Zhao came to check the results, wiping behind her ear with a silk handkerchief: "Start using bleaching essence tomorrow; your ear skin is as dark as a servant's."
In just a few days, Yan Yan gradually adapted to this life. Her body became healthier and more refined, and her appearance improved significantly. However, her loneliness and helplessness grew deeper. She lived in a gorgeous villa, slept in a princess room, and many people surrounded her. All for her looks! There was always an unreal feeling, like a castle in the air, like stepping on soft clouds, like a small boat drifting in the middle of the sea.