Rylie let her fingers drift across a section of knitwear on the rack. “Really? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear clothes from here. What you have on now looks far nicer than these.”

At that, Melany lowered her voice and leaned closer, whispering with a conspiratorial glint in her eyes, “That’s because I buy the clothes here and redesign them myself.”

Rylie tilted her head. “Then why shop here at all?”

Melany lifted the knitwear from Rylie’s hands, brushing the fabric lightly between her fingers before placing it against Rylie’s palm. “You probably don’t know much about fashion, but I’m obsessed with it. The truth is, while the styles in this store are pretty awful, the fabric itself is surprisingly good. It’s soft, durable, and honestly holds up against well-known brands. A lot of the pieces here even have special dye patterns you won’t see elsewhere. The problem is, the designers don’t know how to use the fabric’s potential. That’s why I buy them, just for the quality of the material.”

Worried Rylie still might not fully grasp her point, Melany tugged down the zipper of her jacket, revealing a fitted knit top. “My mom just bought this from a major brand the other day. The design and cut are definitely more stylish, but feel this,” she said, lightly tugging at the sleeve. “The comfort doesn’t even come close to the one I’m holding.”

Rylie traced her fingers over the fabric again, noting the contrast more clearly now. The “Sweetberry” knit was smooth and pleasant against the skin, while Melany’s branded top, despite its stylish cut, carried a faint roughness from the fine fibers.

Her impression of “Sweetberry” shifted. Beneath its mismatched patterns and lackluster style, the brand showed promise. Someone in the company cared about material and workmanship, yet poor design choices and disorganized management buried its true strength.

With the right direction, “Sweetberry” could rise to challenge the big names. Rylie looked at Melany with genuine appreciation. “You really do have an eye for this,” she said, holding up the knitwear with newfound respect. “No wonder you can find value where most people wouldn’t bother to look.”

Melany’s cheeks flushed under the weight of her idol’s praise, a shy smile tugging at her lips. “I just feel it’s such a shame for quality material to be turned into something like this, so—”

She was about to share more of her redesign insights when an impatient voice cut in sharply. “Hey! You two! What do you think you’re doing?”

A saleswoman, who had just been idly chatting with a colleague at the cash register, suddenly strode toward them. A manager’s badge gleamed on her chest, and her brows drew together as her eyes swept over them, full of disdain. “Look all you want, but handle the fabric carefully. If you don’t intend to purchase, then stop toying with it! This is costly material. If you damage it, cause it to pill, or even get your sweat on it, who will take responsibility? How am I expected to sell it afterward?”

Her voice dripped with scorn, each word laced with irritation, as if they were nothing more than an inconvenience rather than customers. “You don’t understand the simplest rules? If you can’t afford it, then step aside and stop loitering here!”

As the saleswoman spoke, her gaze swept critically over Rylie’s simple sportswear and Melany’s uniquely altered outfit, her expression hardening as she convinced herself they were nothing more than broke students who only came to browse without intending to buy.

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