Chapter 96

Lu Yuezhi carried her photography bag on her back, with Su Yiqui walking beside her. Su Yiqui never offered to help carry any of it.

But she wasn’t idle either. From the moment they left the conference room, she kept asking all sorts of questions, which made Cheng Yanran quite anxious.

Cheng Yanran had wanted to help lighten Lu Yuezhi’s load—after all, those two bags looked really heavy. But with Su Yiqui suddenly so talkative, she couldn’t get a word in edgewise no matter what.

She glanced back at her master and saw Xiao Luyan discussing something with President Dai, so she didn’t want to interrupt.

She gave up on the idea of helping Lu Yuezhi and quickened her pace to check on the shooting preparations instead.

The photography studio was always kept in a state of readiness, so any photographer who came could start working right away. But after Lu Yuezhi looked around, she said, “Let’s change locations.”

Trans’s smile deepened a bit, while Su Yiqui laughed outright. “Pretty demanding, huh?”

The others had mixed expressions, but quite a few thought Lu Yuezhi was just getting cold feet.

Jason was standing a bit farther away, but seeing Lu Yuezhi delay starting the shoot, he sneered. “All that posturing, but when it comes time to actually shoot, she dawdles.”

Cheng Yanran relayed Lu Yuezhi’s idea to Xiao Luyan for her to decide. They could have talked directly, but to avoid any appearance of favoritism, Lu Yuezhi had followed procedure strictly ever since arriving at Deyounian. She spoke more to Cheng Yanran than to Xiao Luyan.

Xiao Luyan knew Lu Yuezhi’s capabilities and didn’t dwell on it too long. “Go ahead and make the arrangements.”

Su Yiqui didn’t ask any more questions, but her expectant expression grew more obvious.

When she and Lu Yuezhi arrived at the actual exhibition hall together, she finally got a clear look at the equipment Lu Yuezhi had brought.

“You even brought a tilt-shift lens?”

Lu Yuezhi carefully checked every detail and just smiled at Su Yiqui’s comment.

“Since we’re shooting, of course we have to take it seriously.”

She wasn’t there just to make a token appearance and muddle through.

Seeing Lu Yuezhi’s serious expression, Su Yiqui knew she was getting into the zone. So she quietly stepped back a few paces to avoid disturbing her.

Trans watched from the side the whole time but never came over to chat.

“Do you think she can pull it off?” Su Yiqui asked softly. She figured her master would have a keener eye than she did.

“She’ll face some challenges—it all depends on whether she can overcome them.”

At this point, Su Yiqui didn’t care at all what impact Lu Yuezhi’s success might have on her. She just wanted to know quickly if Lu Yuezhi could bring that bold, innovative idea to life.

Coming up with such a unique concept was already rare enough. If she could perfectly capture it through her lens, it would be an exhilarating achievement for any photographer—one that no amount of money or material rewards could replace.

From Lu Yuezhi’s calm, immersed silhouette, Su Yiqui sensed the aura of a kindred spirit. She felt that Lu Yuezhi shared her own passion for photography, one that wasn’t driven by fame.

Lu Yuezhi focused entirely on the shoot, oblivious to the onlookers. No one disturbed her, and no one could—no one but the artifacts themselves, with which she was in deep conversation through her lens.

Xiao Luyan had thought she might need help, since Lu Yuezhi wasn’t familiar with every piece. But after quietly observing for a while, she never saw any signal for assistance. Lu Yuezhi only smiled at her quietly before starting.

Xiao Luyan recalled that smile, and it temporarily eased her tension.

Lu Yuezhi took a few shots and was fairly satisfied. She was just about to signal Su Yiqui to come take a look when the other woman swiftly approached on her own.

“Here, take a look.” Lu Yuezhi handed her the camera.

Su Yiqui paused for a moment, glanced up at her, then continued examining the camera.

Xiao Luyan wasn’t surprised. That was exactly how she had reacted when Lu Yuezhi’s work had stunned her.

This was good—it meant Su Yiqui was moved too.

Xiao Luyan’s lips curved up bit by bit. She was happy for Lu Yuezhi, who was now one step closer to gaining recognition.

“Next one,” Su Yiqui urged.

Lu Yuezhi showed her the shots one by one—five in total, all of a single artifact.

But among experts, the exchange wasn’t about quantity; it was about precision. Su Yiqui was deeply shocked by her lens language and convinced by her unique interpretation.

“It’s an angle I never considered before.” Su Yiqui admitted her own inferiority, nodding repeatedly at the camera.

She gestured for Lu Yuezhi to show Trans too, but hadn’t taken two steps before she was stopped.

“Keep shooting.” Trans seemed not particularly curious and in no rush to look.

Lu Yuezhi nodded and went back.

She didn’t want her creative flow interrupted, and Trans had given her even more freedom at this moment—a rare opportunity.

Su Yiqui returned to Trans’s side, still savoring the stunning shots.

After a while, the more she thought about it, the stranger it seemed. She couldn’t help stealing several glances at Lu Yuezhi.

It was still that focused, immersed back view. Lu Yuezhi was now shooting another artifact, completely unconcerned with whether Su Yiqui was discussing her with Trans.

“Her style feels a bit familiar. It reminds me of River.”

She couldn’t say that publicly, but discussing it privately with Trans was fine. Su Yiqui emphasized, “It resembles River’s recent style.”

Because what had moved her most about River was that series from Aswan.

Trans smiled. “Is that so?”

“Could there be some hidden master in Sea City?” That would explain why both Lu Yuezhi and River had received the same guidance, producing work that was stunning yet strikingly similar.

Su Yiqui pondered the hypothesis seriously. “Even if River were here today, she might not beat Lu Yuezhi.”

On second thought, a matchup between the two might spark some real fireworks.

Su Yiqui felt it was a shame—a missed chance for such great communication!

Hearing her heavy sigh of regret, Trans finally turned his head. “Sue, what do you think is the most unique label for a photographer?”

“Lens language.”

“Then do you think hers differs much from River’s?”

Su Yiqui thought carefully for a moment, then said reluctantly, “Not really. They’re even quite similar—almost identical.”

This wasn’t high praise, especially for a newcomer. It was actually quite negative. But she couldn’t lie against her conscience; they really were too alike, identical down to certain details—as if they were the same person!

A flash of insight hit Su Yiqui, and another possibility occurred to her.

It was far-fetched, but it explained her doubts.

She looked at Trans, uncertain yet excited. “Could Lu Yuezhi be… River?”

Trans smiled without answering, but Su Yiqui knew her master well enough to recognize this as tacit confirmation.

Sure enough—Lu Yuezhi was River!

Su Yiqui never imagined such a dramatic twist. She stared at Lu Yuezhi again and again, thinking this woman played by rules all her own.

“Then why all the mystery?” Su Yiqui wondered. Lu Yuezhi could have just revealed she was River, and Trans would have recommended her on the spot.

Why go through all the trouble to prove herself?

Trans replied, “She said she didn’t want to disappoint the person who chose her, nor let her supporters face doubts.”

Su Yiqui instinctively glanced at Xiao Luyan.

The usually cool and aloof President Xiao kept her gaze almost fixed on Lu Yuezhi. It could be called business, but there was personal interest there too.

Yet the way she tried so hard to hide her concern and tension suggested she had no idea Lu Yuezhi was River. Lu Yuezhi was even keeping it from her own wife?

But Xiao Luyan had withstood immense pressure to recommend her and insist on giving her a shot, which showed real faith in her talent. It was touching—many overlooked artists yearned for such a patron.

Su Yiqui had great intuition for creation but was always slow and averse to complex social dynamics. She hated mixing personal feelings into work; it distracted and annoyed her.

With that in mind, she could sort of understand Lu Yuezhi now.

River’s style was intensely personal, immersive, and focused. It showed Lu Yuezhi was someone who zeroed in completely—she couldn’t split her attention or tolerate outside interference.

Trans had no particular curiosity about it. “If the work is good, that’s the final answer.”

Su Yiqui nodded. “Yeah, as long as she nails the shoot, none of the other issues will matter.”

Jason had been observing Trans and his disciple from afar, but he was too far to hear. He only knew Su Yiqui seemed pretty satisfied with Lu Yuezhi’s results, but Trans remained unmoved—otherwise, he would have at least looked.

Afterward, Su Yiqui talked quite a bit more with Trans, as if trying to persuade her master. But Trans stayed nonchalant, and in the end, it seemed more like Su Yiqui had been convinced.

He figured Lu Yuezhi wouldn’t pass Trans’s test.

Xiao Luyan was observing too. Her conclusion wasn’t as pessimistic as Jason’s, but she was still worried about Trans’s coolness. She stood there with arms crossed, her fingertips unconsciously digging into her palm—worried for Lu Yuezhi, cheering her on.

Lu Yuezhi shot two more artifacts, five shots each, for a total of fifteen.

The group returned to the conference room, and the unedited photos went straight up on the big screen.

They looked great at first glance, but ultimately needed an expert critique.

Xiao Luyan kept her voice steady. “Sue, what do you think?”

Su Yiqui didn’t beat around the bush for the sake of face. “Very good. It was a big surprise.”

Everyone who knew her personality understood this was high praise, and she had no reason to say it just to be polite. So Lu Yuezhi had passed with her.

Xiao Luyan breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Trans.

He was the one who could make the call. If he said yes, Lu Yuezhi would land the project and become the true savior.

Xiao Luyan couldn’t read his mind, but as long as he didn’t say anything too harsh, it would be fine even if it fell through. Lu Yuezhi had definitely left a deep impression today—there would be other chances.

“What about you, Trans?” Xiao Luyan remained composed.

President Dai and Jason looked at him too. Everyone awaited his final verdict.

Lu Yuezhi waited as well, but without much tension. She actually wanted to hear his professional feedback on the work, some guidance.

Trans swiveled his chair to face the big screen and studied it intently for a good while.

“Excellent work. I like it very much.”

Such high praise from him caught many off guard.

Even Lu Yuezhi was a bit surprised. She shook her head modestly, thinking there was still plenty of room for improvement.

Trans turned back to her. “I approve of having Lu Yuezhi lead this shoot. I endorse her vision and ideas.”

As the one being replaced, Su Yiqui showed no displeasure or anger. Instead, she stood up and extended her hand to Lu Yuezhi. “Looking forward to more surprises from you.”

Lu Yuezhi shook it. “Thank you for your recognition and support.”

“Any requests, just say the word. We’ll do our utmost to cooperate.” As Su Yiqui looked at her, a new light gleamed in her eyes—one never seen before. “Excited for our collaboration ahead.”

She put a little extra force into the handshake as she said it.

This grip carried a clear note of anticipation.

Xiao Luyan frowned, surprised by Su Yiqui’s obvious shift in attitude. Seeing their clasped hands, she felt an inexplicable discomfort.