Courtyard Houses: From Bronze Compasses to Global Reach

Chapter 290 The Dimensional Reduction Attack of Aesthetics

The sketch changed again—this time it was a design for a Western court dress: "The Last Gift: Her Coronation".

The entire hall held its breath. When the last model appeared at the end of the runway, a collective gasp filled the banquet hall.

It was an ivory-white princess gown, its enormous skirt blooming like a flower. The fabric used to make it was another masterpiece from the Nanhai Textile Mill—a shimmering brocade. When the lights shone on it, the entire gown seemed to be bathed in moonlight, flowing with a soft halo. With each step the model took, ripples spread across the fabric's surface like water, the sheen shifting and changing in layers, gradually changing from pearl white to a pale champagne gold. "This is impossible!" The editor-in-chief of French Vogue exclaimed, standing up in disbelief. "What kind of fabric is this? It breathes! It glows!"

Pierre Cardin had already reached the edge of the runway, disregarding etiquette as he reached out to touch the shimmering sheen: "This weaving technique...this variation in luster...surpasses all the crafts we currently possess!"

Even the usually composed Saint Laurent slightly opened his mouth. What he saw was not only beauty, but also the possibility of a fabric revolution—a fabric that retains the softness of Eastern silk while giving Western formal wear a new vitality, is redefining the concept of "luxury".

Backstage, Tom and Mike were completely stunned, while Daniel quickly wrote in his notebook: "A new era of technological aesthetics - when Eastern weaving techniques meet Western design."

At this moment, everyone realized that Libre de Soi brought not only a touching love story, but also a perfect storm of fabric revolution and design fusion. These fabrics, seemingly imbued with life under the lights, were proclaiming to the world: the landscape of fashion would be changed forever.

Act III Finale

On the big screen, the last sketch slowly appeared—it was a design drawing of two wedding dresses covered with gold thread dragon and phoenix patterns, with simple and solemn lines, and the label next to it read: "Only for this lifetime: an eternal promise".

Before the lingering notes of the pipe organ had completely faded, a calm and melodious sound of the guqin (a traditional Chinese stringed instrument) rang out, like flowing water or the sound of pine trees, instantly washing away the restless atmosphere in the entire venue.

At the end of the runway, a waterfall of light cascades down.

Tang Liuqian and Yang Xi'en stood hand in hand and walked out slowly.

At that moment, time seemed to stand still.

Yang Xi'en wore a traditional Chinese red wedding gown made of the finest brocade from the South China Sea Textile Factory, embroidered with phoenix patterns in gold thread. The enormous skirt cascaded in layers, and under the light, the brocade's base didn't merely reflect light; rather, it seemed alive, radiating a warm, moonlit glow from within. The phoenixes embroidered in gold thread appeared to float on this moonlight, their feathers reflecting delicate, shimmering gold with each slow, dignified step she took. Every tiny movement created ripples of flowing light.

She wore an elaborate peony-patterned hairstyle and a complete set of ruby ​​headdresses gifted by Lin Yan. Gold and gemstones shimmered in her dark hair, and the hairpins swayed gently with her steps, the pearls clinking softly, their sounds blending wonderfully with the rhythm of the guqin. Her face was serene, her eyes resolute, like a royal consort stepping out of an ancient painting, each step carrying the weight of history and the dignity of civilization.

Beside her stood Tang Liuqian, dressed in a matching men's auspicious robe with dragon patterns, and a lustrous white jade pendant at his waist. His tall and elegant figure and graceful bearing, combined with Yang Xi'en's presence, created a perfect picture of a match made in heaven, requiring no words.

There were no deliberate poses from the models, no exaggerated movements designed to showcase the clothing. They simply walked, as if performing a sacred ceremony, presenting the core solemnity, commitment, and heritage of Eastern weddings to all viewers in the most direct way.

"Oh, Mon Dieu!" A seasoned fashion critic in the audience gasped, his eyes wide with disbelief and awe. This transcended the realm of clothing; it was a cultural pilgrimage.

Yves Saint Laurent completely abandoned his usual scrutinizing gaze, leaning forward slightly as if trying to see every detail of the gold thread embroidery. His pursuit of "female power" found another ultimate expression at this moment—not through imitating men's suits, but through showcasing the powerful yet understated strength inherent in women's own cultural heritage.

Coco Chanel watched quietly, her gaze as sharp as ever, but now tinged with a rare reverence for a completely different kind of "classic" and "tradition." She saw "complexity" that ran counter to her pursuit of "simplicity," yet this complexity appeared incredibly harmonious and sophisticated due to its profound cultural roots.

Paco Rabana, the materials revolutionary, was completely captivated by the magical optical effects of the shimmering fabric. He murmured to himself, "This fabric...it breathes light! It doesn't reflect, it breathes...how did the Easterners do that?"

Even the two Futurist masters, André Courréges and Pierre Cardin, fell silent. They attempted to depict the future with lines and materials, while the newlyweds before us used symbols from the ancient past to construct an equally breathtaking "future" about eternity and commitment.

Backstage, Tom and Mike had forgotten to breathe. Daniel stopped writing, forgetting to take notes, and just stared blankly. Li Wenbin seemed to truly understand the meaning of Lin Yan's "dimensional reduction attack" for the first time.

Lin Yan stood in the shadows, calmly observing everything. He knew they had succeeded. When the newlyweds walked to the very front of the runway, stood side by side, and nodded slightly to the audience—

There were no screams, no commotion.

The response was a silence that lasted for more than ten seconds. Then, like a volcano that had been holding back its power for too long finally erupting, the entire banquet hall of the Ritz Hotel was completely engulfed by thunderous and continuous applause!

This applause is for this unparalleled beauty!

This applause is for this breathtaking skill!

This applause is also dedicated to a profound and brilliant civilization that they were once unfamiliar with but now cannot help but admire!

At this moment, Libre de Soi's opening show, with its ultimate and pure Eastern aesthetics, completed the most perfect and undisputed... dimensional reduction attack on the Parisian fashion world in 1960.