As the music blared and the lights came on, a pair of golden wings appeared in Jiang Hai's line of sight.
Then the model turned around—and Jiang Hai couldn't help but let out a soft "Wow." It wasn't her figure or face that caught his breath, though those weren't bad either—it was the golden armor she wore that nearly blinded him with its extravagance.
As she strutted off, the second model stepped out. Her inner outfit looked normal enough, but the golden wings strapped to her back gave her a surreal appearance.
Then came the third, whose wings fully unfurled in dramatic fashion. The models that followed all wore golden helmets and armor. Before long, even China's own supermodel, He, made her entrance—shoulders adorned with two oversized golden bubbles, making her look like the queen of local bling.
"Uh, can someone tell me what exactly Victoria's Secret sells?" Jiang Hai asked, glancing in confusion at the constant stream of screaming fans and strutting beauties. He turned to Taylor Swift, who was cheering animatedly beside him.
"Isn't it obvious? They sell vests," she replied casually, her eyes still glued to the stage.
Hearing that, Jiang Hai scratched his head in bewilderment.
"If they're selling vests, what the hell is this? Who's actually going to buy a vest like that? They all look like they're wearing golden battle armor." Honestly, when Jiang Hai looked at those golden helmets and plated suits, the only thing that came to mind was the legendary Gold Saints.
Clad in those suits, they looked like they could shatter the sky with a punch or stomp the earth into pieces. What even were these outfits?
"What are Gold Saints?" Taylor asked, puzzled. Born and raised in the U.S., she had no idea what he was talking about. Japanese anime was popular in America, sure—but the only one that really broke through was Dragon Ball.
Other anime just didn't have the same traction. If you had to rank them, mecha shows came in second place. America, founded relatively late, used animation to build self-confidence—hence the rise of superhero stories. Marvel and DC comics weren't exactly subtle; everything was cosmic warfare and epic destruction.
In contrast, One Piece and Naruto only fought on Earth. They didn't even blow up a continent, let alone destroy planets. The stakes were too tame for American tastes.
But Dragon Ball? That was different. Characters went Super Saiyan over the smallest disagreement and casually exploded planets. So, sure, tell an American about Goku—they might know. Mention Gold Saints? Not a chance.
"You know Greek mythology, right?" Jiang Hai asked.
"Of course," Taylor nodded. Westerners might not know Saint Seiya, but they're very familiar with Greek mythology. After all, both DC and Marvel's worlds include god realms. DC leaned into Greek mythology—The Flash got his lightning from Hermes. Marvel went Norse, with Thor and Odin.
"Good," Jiang Hai nodded. "Because even though we're in the age of science and technology, the ancient struggle of the Greek gods has never really ended…"
"You mean like Percy Jackson?" Taylor asked, intrigued.
She was referring to the movie where the main character was a half-human son of Poseidon. The story itself wasn't all that great, but it had pulled a decent box office.
"No, much stronger than that," Jiang Hai said seriously. "Now listen—don't interrupt. The Greek gods have been planning to reclaim the Earth for centuries. But they have to do it without modern tech finding out. So they select human champions to act on their behalf. Zeus's champions are God Warriors. Poseidon's are Sea Warriors. Hades's are Hades Warriors. But the strongest? Athena's champions—the Saints."
Taylor listened, unsure whether to believe this nonsense or laugh.
Oblivious, Jiang Hai continued with absolute conviction. "Saints are divided into three classes: Gold, Silver, and Bronze. Gold Saints represent the twelve Zodiac signs. Silver Saints are aligned with twenty-four constellations closest to the Zodiac. Bronze Saints cover the rest. There are twelve Gold Saints, twenty-four Silver, and fifty-two Bronze. Their armor isn't made from actual gold or silver, but from divine metal. And the armor these models are wearing now—it's nearly identical to the Gold Saints' battle gear."
"Yeah right. You're just making this up," Taylor scoffed. "This is just one of their six collections this year—Psychedelic, Ice Angel, Angel Portrait, Fireworks, Pink, and Exotic Butterfly. What does that have to do with your so-called Gold Saints?"
"Exactly. It's all a front," Jiang Hai shrugged. "As for how I know this... if you've checked my background, you'd know I was nobody last year. Suddenly I own a manor and a fortune. Why? Because I'm a Saint Seiya. Still a low-level one, sure—but once I power up, my fists will tear the sky and my feet will crush the earth."
Taylor stared at him, unimpressed. "Seriously? Why not just say you're Superman?"
"See? You still don't believe me." Jiang Hai looked around, then down at his chair. It wasn't a fancy seat—like something from a premium movie theater, but with reinforced metal parts. Spotting a steel pipe under the armrest, he casually grabbed it.
Now, this steel bar wasn't very thick—but it was steel. It could withstand over 500 kilograms of force. A normal heavyweight boxing champ might punch with that kind of impact, but Jiang Hai's physical strength was four times the human limit.
He wasn't joking.
Wanting to teach Taylor a small lesson for all the crap she'd been saying behind his back—yes, he'd heard her—he yanked the pipe clean off with a sharp tug.
The sound of tearing metal made Taylor flinch.
She stared in disbelief as Jiang Hai held up the pipe, then—pinching it between his thumb and forefinger—flattened the steel.
Taylor's mind went blank.
She was convinced he'd been joking… but now?
"There are things in this world science can't explain," Jiang Hai said smoothly, tucking the flattened part of the pipe under his shirt. He snapped the rest in half and handed one piece to the stunned Taylor, who held it like it might bite.
"Consider this a friendly warning," Jiang Hai muttered, grinning. He'd heard every insult she'd said about him last night. Her tone, the sarcasm about him being a loser, and how only Pra Walton mattered… Well, this was his way of responding.
He sat back down and watched the show, chuckling.
Soon after, Selena Gomez walked onto the stage in the V-neck dress she'd worn the night before. Jiang Hai's eyes lit up. The dancers emerged first, followed by more elaborately dressed models.
Compared to these towering beauties—most at least 1.75 meters tall and wearing 10 cm heels—Selena, who was probably closer to 1.6 meters in real life despite her listed 1.65, looked tiny. But her star power more than made up for her size.
The show passed in a blur, faster than Jiang Hai expected. He'd thought it would be boring—but watching beautiful women change outfits turned out to be surprisingly entertaining.
Before he knew it, it was over.
The general audience began to leave, while celebrities and VIPs exited through a special channel. Jiang Hai, rich if not famous, was routed through that way too.
As soon as he stepped outside, he spotted Selena waiting for him. She rushed up and hugged him.
"Did I do well today?" she asked eagerly, like a child seeking praise.
"Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful," Jiang Hai said with a grin and a double thumbs-up.
Selena beamed.
"Selena… you and him… well… never mind, just be careful," Taylor Swift interjected hesitantly, then fell silent when Jiang Hai gave her a pointed glance. She remembered the crushed steel pipe hidden in her coat and swallowed her next words.
"Be careful? Oh! You mean that kind of careful?" Selena said, blinking innocently. "Oops… we haven't been careful at all. I guess we should go buy some… stuff later."
"I don't like those things," Jiang Hai said, shaking his head.
"Then I'll get the medicine instead," Selena nodded thoughtfully.
"Those pills aren't good for your body. Don't worry so much. If something happens, just have the baby—I'll raise them. I love kids," Jiang Hai said casually.
"You wish! Who wants to have your kid, you jerk!" Selena blushed and gave him a playful smack, which only made him laugh harder. He pulled her close and they walked off together.
Taylor Swift watched them go, lips pressed in a tight line.
She wanted to warn Selena—tell her this guy was bad news.
But then she remembered the steel pipe, still warm in her coat pocket.
Her instincts screamed that Jiang Hai was bluffing. Every word he said sounded like a lie. But the crushed metal in her hand? That made her wonder—just how much of it wasn't?
"Taylor, what are you doing here? Were you waiting for me?" Ellie Goulding suddenly appeared, patting Taylor on the shoulder.
"Ahh! Ellie, you scared me!" Taylor said, then quickly added, "Hey… Ellie, do you know what a Saint Seiya is?"
Back in Selena's apartment, Jiang Hai was completely unaware that Taylor Swift had just developed a very complicated suspicion about him.
He and Selena ate a quick midnight snack and... well, the rest doesn't need to be detailed.
The next day, around noon, they finally left the house.
Selena was headed back to L.A.—after all, she was a singer and actress. She couldn't just stay holed up forever. Jiang Hai decided to leave with her. He didn't know anyone in New York, so it was time to go home.
To avoid awkwardness upon his return, Jiang Hai thought to buy some gifts for the people back at the manor.
But as it turned out... if he hadn't brought any gifts, he might've just gotten a few cold stares.
With gifts?
Let's just say... the misunderstandings were even worse.
(To be continued.)