Chapter 52: “Girlfriend” Part 1

Before Chi Buyu slipped into her red dress, Cui Qijin had already donned the redesigned black cheongsam.

The photoshoot site wasn’t crowded. Chen Wenran, with nothing better to do, had dashed over from the south to handle the lighting. Ran Yan served as shooting coach for Cui Qijin, who wasn’t used to the camera. Chi Buyu wore a mango-yellow baseball cap and darted nervously around the set like SpongeBob SquarePants chasing jellyfish.

Cui Qijin sported tiny pearl earrings, her hair pinned up in the back with two black hairpins. Facing the sort of dark, glossy camera lens she’d once avoided like the plague, she tugged lightly at her skirt hem and posed affectedly, one hand on her waist.

She felt like a tree with branches spread wide, put on display and posed for decoration on Children’s Day.

Her jaw clenched tight as she followed the photographer—newly appointed Chi Buyu—through the poses she wanted, holding a smile all the while. Impatience gnawed at her, though. Why on earth had she been so addled back then, agreeing to this nonsense for Chi Buyu?

She wondered if backing out now would make Chi Buyu cry.

But she knew Chi Buyu was smiling at the moment.

Half her face hid behind the camera, the visible lower half grinning so wide it was practically lost in euphoria.

So Cui Qijin thought, fine then—at least let Chi Buyu smile a little longer.

Chen Wenran struggled with the lighting board nearby and glanced at the barren set, just the four of them.

She eyed the photographer Chi Shuishui, who was grinning ear to ear with focus, and the model Cui Muhuo, who seemed annoyed on the surface but was sweetly sacrificing for love underneath. With a sigh, Chen Wenran said,

“I feel like we’re just playing house.”

Ran Yan lounged behind the monitor, one leg casually crossed over the other in this work environment, nibbling elegantly on a chocolate liqueur truffle. “Your Cui Qijin said she wouldn’t do it if there were more than five people.”

“What do you mean ‘your’ Cui Qijin?” Chen Wenran yelped loudly, jerking her chin toward the photographer Chi Buyu. “She’s clearly this one’s, right?”

On the monitor, Cui Qijin’s expression turned icy as she shot a warning glance.

“Photoshoot in progress. No yelling.”

Chen Wenran raised the lighting board pitifully. “Shuishui, your Cui Qijin is yelling at me.”

The photographer and site coordinator Chi Buyu giggled from behind the camera. She laughed for a good while before lowering it from in front of her face. She dropped the one-eyed wink and lifted her chin smugly.

“Yeah~”

Then, a touch embarrassed, she murmured softly, “Got it, classmate Chen Wenran. No more chit-chat for now.”

Chen Wenran wasn’t thrilled.

She opened her mouth to protest.

Cui Qijin grew impatient and urged, “Hurry up and finish shooting. No more nonsense.”

Chen Wenran huffed indignantly and grumbled to Chi Buyu, “Your Cui Qijin is such a handful.”

Chi Buyu beamed crookedly.

Cui Qijin prompted her again. “Chi Buyu, speed it up.”

Chi Buyu immediately clamped her mouth shut and stopped laughing.

Chi Buyu squinted into the viewfinder at Cui Qijin, snapping several shots in a row. She and Ran Yan, monitoring the screen, noticed it at the same time—

Her Cui Qijin stood before the white backdrop, her expression perfectly normal, but her neck was a bit flushed.

So at lunch break, while they ate, Chi Buyu really did whisper to Ran Yan, “I’ve noticed it for ages—when my Cui Qijin gets shy, her neck turns red on purpose.”

She glanced at Cui Qijin, who was eating in strict order, propping her cheeks with a squinty smile, staring like she was eyeing some delectable treat. Then she remembered something else. Turning solemnly, she patted her cap brim and emphasized to Ran Yan,

“You guys aren’t allowed to tease her anymore. Only I get to see that red neck.”

Ran Yan gave her an indescribable look for a moment, then sighed and pressed down on her cap. “Good thing you two didn’t start dating back in high school.”

Chen Wenran spotted them whispering and rolled her eyes. She bounded over to tattle relentlessly.

“Shuishui, your Cui Qijin is picky with food and won’t eat carrots. Shuishui, your Cui Qijin says she doesn’t want to shoot anymore. Shuishui, your Cui Qijin yelled at me!”

Chi Buyu puffed her cheeks, chewed and swallowed her spinach, then said very seriously,

“Classmate Chen Wenran, stop tattling on my Cui Qijin all the time. My Cui Qijin is a very good girl.”

Then she scampered to Ran Yan’s side and whispered loudly,

“Ranran, you need to keep your Chen Wenran in check. Tell her to stop deliberately provoking my Cui Qijin.”

The three chattered away noisily—it really didn’t feel like work. It was more like playing house. A jellyfish whooshed over Cui Qijin’s head, whimpering. She wanted to cover her ears. These people sounded like they were chanting sutras, their strongest incantation being—

Your Cui Qijin, my Cui Qijin…

Cui Qijin of Chi Shuishui’s house.

Chant it a thousand million times, and it would become set in stone. Cui Qijin found the phrase utterly cheesy.

–

Of course, striking poses and expressions in front of the lens that she’d never made in her life was even cheesier.

But Cui Qijin had no choice.

Because of Chi Shuishui.

She always agreed to Chi Shuishui’s weird requests. She didn’t understand why meeting Chi Shuishui turned her into such an idiot. Crab Boss Class Monitor said she granted every wish when drunk. But she suspected it wasn’t the alcohol.

Cui Qijin watched Chi Shuishui, straining to close one eye, chin tilted up as she insisted on taking lots of beautiful shots of her. With a sigh, Cui Qijin thought,

This would have to do.

It could only be Chi Shuishui.

Though Cui Qijin resisted fiercely, the final photos seemed decent enough to Ran Yan and Chi Buyu.

Cui Qijin had zero interest in seeing her magnified face on any device—it looked weird to her. So while Chi Buyu and Ran Yan huddled together, jabbering over the shots, she slipped away from the studio’s setup downstairs to the record store, locking eyes in a stare-down with the Record Store Boss, who drank ice-cold beer in winter and hot beer in summer.

Chen Wenran and Ran Yan leaned in close, scrutinizing the photos Chi Buyu had taken of Cui Qijin on the display screen—

In the shots, Cui Qijin wore the black cheongsam without her framed glasses. Her thin, narrow monolids lifted slightly, fluffy brows framing a face with delicate, streamlined bones. The eyes looking into the lens held no trace of impatience—instead, they brimmed with subtle, tender warmth.

Chen Wenran murmured, “Who is this person?”

Ran Yan said, “I thought Cui Qijin hated this so much the shots would turn out stiff. But…”

Chen Wenran sighed in admiration. “Beauty really is in the eye of the beholder. Swap out the photographer, and you wouldn’t get this effect.”

Chi Buyu tipped up her mango-yellow baseball cap, floating on the praise but grounding herself to keep loving her earthbound Cui Qijin.

“Mm-hmm~” Chi Buyu said little, slinging her camera over her shoulder and swaying side to side, secretly hoping for more compliments.

Chen Wenran gave a thumbs-up. “Our Shuishui is the best.”

Ran Yan followed with a thumbs-up. “Cui Qijin performed great too.”

Chi Buyu blinked. “Of course.”

She mumbled the words awkwardly but said nothing more, eyes full of eager expectation as she gazed at them.

Chen Wenran blinked back, scratching her chin.

Ran Yan shifted as if tired of sitting, starting to rise.

Chi Buyu suddenly pinned Ran Yan down, squirming as she said, “Won’t you look a little more?”

Ran Yan and Chen Wenran exchanged a glance.

They both resignedly bowed their heads.

—”Sure, sure.”

—”How can we not look at what Chi Shuishui worked so hard on?”

The two plopped back down grudgingly, like self-resetting marbles, flipping through the photos on the monitor again—from start to finish.

After the second round.

Chi Buyu beamed at them. “Any questions?”

Chen Wenran coughed and started clapping. “Nothing for now. Our Five Elements Group’s performance is just…”

Ran Yan nodded emphatically. “Too amazing!”

They finished and moved to stand again.

Chi Buyu pouted. “Okay then.”

They plunked down simultaneously once more, like those auto-returning marbles.

Marble Chen Wenran said, “Maybe I missed a few details.”

Marble Ran Yan said, “Shall we go again?”

Chi Buyu gripped the mouse, her eyes sparkling like an excited honey bear about to burst out. “Yes!”

After the third round.

Chen Wenran propped her aching cheeks. “Cui Qijin is such a beauty.”

Ran Yan draped a lazy arm over Chen Wenran’s shoulder. “Her expressiveness is top-notch. I’m tempted to sign her as a model for my company.”

“Exactly! My Cui Muhuo is awesome!”

Chi Buyu thrust out her chin, but her hand stayed clenched on the mouse, itching for more.

Chen Wenran yawned listlessly, bracing for round four.

Ran Yan suddenly said, “Hold on!”

“What, what!”

Chi Buyu crowded in close, eyelashes fluttering like they might take flight.

“You found something!”

“Oh my god!”

Chen Wenran clutched Ran Yan’s shoulders, shaking wildly like she’d found salvation. “What did you find? Spill it!”

“Wait a sec.”

Ran Yan calmly directed Chi Buyu to scroll back a few shots, then pulled up her phone’s photo album for comparison. Finally, she looked at Chi Buyu with dawning realization. “So that’s why you were so desperate to get Cui Qijin as your model before.”

Chi Buyu mumbled a stuffy “Mm.”

Ran Yan eyed her and sighed. “Turns out you weren’t kidding about being love-struck.”

Chen Wenran clawed at her ears in frustration. “What are you two even talking about? Tell me!”

She looked ready to breathe fire.

Chi Buyu cleared her throat, rubbing her embarrassed cheeks, and explained, “When I was designing this set, she was exactly who I pictured wearing it.”

“Designing this set?” Chen Wenran asked. “When was that?”

“Um…”

Chi Buyu twisted her fingers, hesitating between lie and truth. In the end, she went with the truth that would make her happier.

“A lot of times.”

Cui Qijin often didn’t look at Chi Buyu. But Chi Buyu often looked at Cui Qijin. This feeling was abstract, something only Chi Buyu’s wildly imaginative mind could comprehend—

Whenever she saw Cui Qijin, unruly lines would burst into her mind. They came in every color imaginable and danced around like cartoon sketches, outlining the Cui Qijin before her eyes: her face, her hands, her nose, her lips, and even the folds in her clothes. To tame those lines, she itched to sketch them out.

This was the first collection she’d helped design since becoming a co-founder of the brand, and she desperately wanted Cui Qijin to try it on just once. But Cui Qijin hadn’t agreed right away, leaving her disappointed. Then the model had her accident, and amid the chaos, Chi Buyu agonized over whether to scrap the designs—not because she couldn’t come up with new ones, but because she lacked the courage to decide. Cui Qijin promised to stay by her side through it.

So she dusted off the sketches she’d secretly stashed away, never once sharing them publicly—

It was the day she returned from Leshan, her first as a twenty-seven-year-old. The Chengdu weather had turned chilly, and Chi Buyu sprawled across the table as fresh lines flooded her thoughts, even though Cui Qijin wasn’t there. Blushing fiercely, she sorted them into this outfit. Later, she realized that was the moment she missed Cui Qijin most.

“But don’t tell her.”

Chi Buyu admitted she had a case of lovestruck brain this time, but she was treading carefully, trying to rein it in so she wouldn’t scare Cui Qijin away.

In front of the stunned Chen Wenran and Ran Yan, she beamed as she flipped through the dozens of photos she’d snapped of Cui Qijin. Finally, she made a shushing gesture and whispered to them with utmost caution,

“If I come on too strong, she’ll feel pressured for sure.”

–

When Chi Buyu dashed down from the studio, she spotted Cui Qijin standing outside the record store, smiling as she chatted with a stranger.

A woman.

Chi Buyu narrowed her eyes, instantly on guard.

A gust of wind whipped up her skirt. She bolted forward whoosh-whoosh-whoosh, feet flying like they were powered by rocket wheels.

Squinting through her nearsighted haze, she made out a poised woman in black-framed glasses and a black shirt.

Chi Buyu fumbled for her own glasses and slipped them on. Cui Qijin’s gaze swept over and locked onto her first. She called out warmly,

“Chi Buyu.”

Chi Buyu huffed a loud mental “hmph” and hopped over in a few quick strides. She eyed Cui Qijin’s hand dangling naturally at her waist and fidgeted with her fingers.

Glancing at the woman across from Cui Qijin, she debated whether to just grab that hand on the spot.

Wouldn’t that seem weird?

Like she was marking her territory out of nowhere? Would people think she was petty?