Gazing at the dazzling array of goods in the mall, my eyes felt a bit blurry. A wave of dizziness washed over me too.

Nope, I needed to sit down for a moment.

Scanning around, I finally spotted a rest bench in the mall corridor. Several guys were already slumped there.

I dropped my armful of shopping bags on the floor and sank into the iron chair, utterly drained. I gasped for breath.

I’d always thought military training was the most exhausting thing. Never guessed shopping with Mom would top it.

Most of boot camp was just standing under the scorching sun on the drill ground. Occasionally, we’d march in step or jog in formation.

But shopping? It was like a survival challenge: weighted arm carries, obstacle dodging, terrain navigation, and pop quizzes on vague preferences.

"Fan, does this skirt look good?" Mom plucked a Korean-style mini skirt off a store rack.

"Hon, that skirt suits you perfectly! You’ll look ten years younger in it," the salesgirl chirped, rushing over as soon as she spotted a potential sale.

The dress was fresh and cute—ideal for a fresh-out-of-college uni girl. On Mom? It’d look painfully fake.

"Mom, if you were ten years younger, it’d be perfect for you," I chuckled dryly.

Mom and the salesgirl’s smiles vanished instantly.

"Something like this suits you better," I pointed to a professional suit set across the store.

"I want casual wear today! Those formal outfits are only for client meetings. Useless otherwise!" Mom grumbled, hating stuffy clothes.

"Well…" I drew a blank. Picking clothes for women her age was uncharted territory for me.

"Auntie, those clothes over there seem perfect for you." Jiang Muqing, who’d been silently trailing us like a tourist, suddenly spoke up.

She gestured to a trendy casual boutique. Mannequins wore artsy outfits—like white dresses printed with pale yellow maple leaves, or tees adorned with ink-wash peonies. Wearing them felt like draping classical Chinese paintings on your body.

Jiang Muqing led Mom to a dark brown trench coat, ideal for urban women in autumn. Mom tried it on. The coat’s artistic vibe gave her the air of a 14th-century British private detective.

But Mom wasn’t satisfied. She craved youthful, fresh styles to look younger.

So Jiang Muqing pointed to a white short-sleeve tee paired with a sleeveless brown leather vest and dark cropped pants. It looked sharp yet playful—young, indeed.

Huh, Jiang Muqing had good taste. Let them pick freely. I needed a proper rest.

Just then, my eyes drifted to another store across the corridor.

"Little Brown Bear Women’s Wear."

A brand that only made kids’ clothes before? Now expanding to women’s wear? Times really change fast.

Smart move—earning directly from women beats profiting through their kids.

I grabbed my bags and wandered in, browsing until I stopped before a warm orange-red dress.

The gown felt natural and cozy. Its slim cut suited girls still growing up.

The tiny bear logo from their kids’ line was now hidden inside the collar tag. Older girls would blush wearing a bear on their chest.

So they’d just upsized their children’s designs? The dress looked more mature—perfect for girls a bit older than Luo Xue.

"Fan, do you like this dress?" Jiang Muqing stood beside me, appearing out of nowhere.

"Ah, just browsing," I laughed, tearing my eyes away.

"Where’s Mom?"

"Still picking clothes at that store. I noticed you were gone and came back."

She studied me, then glanced at the orange dress.

"Fan, I want to try this on." For the first time, she showed real desire to buy something.

"Huh?"

…

Soon, with the salesgirl’s help, she took the dress into the fitting room. I was ushered to a soft leather stool to wait.

I’d only bought things for Mom all day. I’d promised to shop with Jiang Muqing but hadn’t gotten her a single item. If she loved this dress, I’d buy it without hesitation.

As I thought this, the fitting room door cracked open. A slender hand reached out and waved at me.

"What’s up?" I approached.

Jiang Muqing yanked me inside before I could react.

"What are you doing?!" I hissed, heart pounding in the darkness.

"I can’t fasten my bra…" Her voice trembled with embarrassment.

In the dim light, I realized she wore only a thin white bra set. Her body was almost bare except for the covered parts. The bra straps dangled loosely in her hands.

"Eyes shut! I shouldn’t be seeing this!" I squeezed my eyes shut—though I’d already seen too much.

"Lu Fan, did you hear me? My bra… the clasp won’t fasten…" Her voice edged with tears.

"Don’t panic. Turn around so I can see." I kept my tone calm.

If she burst into tears now, drawing attention, our situation in this cramped room would be impossible to explain.

Gritting my teeth, I had to fix this.

Jiang Muqing obediently turned her back. My fingers brushed her smooth skin as I searched for the clasp.

"Fan’s hands…" She shivered under my touch.

"Stay calm. I’ll get it fastened!" Her tension felt unnatural.

After fumbling a few times, I realized the clasp hole was torn too wide—it wouldn’t hold.

"It’s broken. Won’t fasten." I was out of ideas.

"What now?" Her voice quivered.

"Don’t worry. I’ll tie the straps." A simple knot should work.

"Ah!" She gasped as I tugged the straps.

"Shh! Someone’ll hear you!" I covered her mouth.

"Fan, it hurts!" she whispered tearfully.

"Then skip the bra. Just wear the dress home." Tying it was hopeless.

"No! They’ll see everything." She refused.

Right—her thin summer tee would reveal every contour without a bra.

"What do we do?" she pleaded again.

…

In the cramped fitting room, she stood half-naked, clutching the torn bra to her chest like a lifeline. She’d dragged me in, desperate for help.

The salesgirl knocked on the door—Jiang Muqing had been inside too long. Other customers were waiting.

As my solutions failed one by one, her panic deepened. Her face flushed crimson. She pressed against me, seeking comfort.

"Don’t be scared. I’ve got a plan." I patted her head gently, trying to soothe her.

"Mm." Despite my terrible suggestions, trust still shone in her eyes.