The photo shoot didn’t take much time at all. Ding Ya hadn’t even been able to properly enjoy her newly-released roasted chestnut taro milk tea.
All her attention was focused on Shu Chi.
She wondered if the photographer had received special instructions from the shop owner, because there were quite a lot of creative ideas.
The photographer said things like “good sisters,” but many poses weren’t as restrained as typical photoshoots. Ding Ya, at least, was more than happy with the results.
Shu Chi’s face betrayed very little emotion, perfectly embodying the definition of a photo shoot prop.
She’d also forgotten that Ding Ya had initially said just one picture.
She was like an obedient doll, letting people move her at will, her body tensing up whenever Ding Ya came close.
Winter in Willow Garden was very cold, even with the throngs of visitors and the distant performances on the boats.
Ding Ya’s nose was flushed bright red from the chilly wind. She pulled away from Shu Chi’s embrace and looked up at her. “We’re both women. Taking this kind of couple-style photo shouldn’t be a problem, right?”
The girl in her arms had large eyes, the outer corners tilted slightly upward.
Her eyeliner wasn’t very deep, but the eye shadow’s pearlescent finish was peach-toned glitter. Under the lights, looking at someone, the effect was amplified—as if her heart and eyes were filled completely with that person.
The staff member holding the reflector thought: Why does that sentence sound a bit strange?
Didn’t the owner say this younger sister was pursuing this older sister?
The atmosphere between the two of them was just… indescribable…
Not exactly ambiguous, but kind of…
The owner, holding the bounce board, glanced at Ding Ya.
The woman in Hanfu was genuinely cute, enough to make even other women feel a surge of affection just by looking at her. Being gazed at like that… how could anyone bear to refuse?
Shu Chi took another step back. Even for someone as habitually slow on the uptake as her, she felt this photo shoot was going a little too far.
Yet Ding Ya shuffled forward, resorting to her old trick again, grabbing Shu Chi’s sleeve.
Willow Garden was huge. A single-day ticket was usually barely enough to see the whole park, let alone the performances on the boats during the night session.
This was exactly the time for the show. The classic repertoire hadn’t changed in years. Originally, Ding Ya had planned to accompany her parents for another viewing, but after running into Shu Chi, she’d skipped it.
The photographer knew Willow Garden like the back of her hand. This small waterfront pavilion was somewhat secluded, and the lanterns weren’t very bright.
Shu Chi’s makeup suited her temperament perfectly. From a distance, this woman in the ink-black robe always seemed like a still, silent crow perched on a branch.
Ding Ya said, “Just think of it as fun. Thank you.”
She drew near, then stepped back again, and went to thank the photographer.
The photographer glanced at Shu Chi to the side, inwardly marveling that this time’s lucky client had much better looks than the last.
Last time, the two had been a couple. Girls could be made pretty with makeup, but the guy had no foundation—it was incredibly difficult to “plastic-surgery” him into something better during the shoot.
Plus, with the pregnant belly, they didn’t look like an ancient couple at all—more like a rich landlord taking a concubine. The owner was so embarrassed she didn’t even want to post them on Weibo.
This time, these two didn’t seem that familiar, but their photo compatibility was very high. The height difference, the frame difference, all excellent.
Even if they were the same sex, a single glance at the photo gave off a certain… well, a certain vibe.
Especially this… older sister here.
Shu Chi happened to be standing by the water’s edge. The lantern light spilled onto her, illuminating only half of her.
Her gaze rested on Ding Ya, who was talking to the makeup attendant. The faint light intensified the faintly shadowed quality of her expression. One could sense the deep-seated gentleness in this person’s bones, yet also a kind of fading, receding feeling.
As if she were looking at something she didn’t deserve to possess.
If this were an elopement script, then this would be a reckless, one-sided pursuit with no confirmed feelings at all.
And they weren’t even on equal footing.
The photographer said nothing more and packed up to head back with her colleague.
Ding Ya needed to return to the shop with Shu Chi to change clothes. As she walked, she fiddled with her phone, the insulated paper bag holding her new hot milk tea hooked on her other hand. She asked Shu Chi, “What should I call you?”
Shu Chi replied, “Anything’s fine.”
It wasn’t like we’ll meet again anyway.
An encounter like this was an accident for Shu Chi, like driving off the route set by the navigation.
Just like today at Willow Garden—she’d only come to avoid wasting a ticket, to kill some weekend time.
But she’d mistakenly wandered into this event and, on a whim, taken somewhat intimate photos with a stranger.
If it were that social butterfly Jing Yuqi, she’d definitely find it normal. She was the type who could chat for hours with a random passerby.
Ding Ya stole a quiet glance at Shu Chi, who was walking silently with her eyes downcast, lost in thought.
The wig’s ponytail wasn’t very high, half of it cascading down her chest. The braided cord fabric inside bore hidden patterns, clearly visible under the light.
She wondered where this person’s hidden patterns… lay.
Ding Ya asked, “So, when the owner sends the finished photos, should I send them to you?”
Shu Chi gave a sound of agreement.
They weren’t walking very close, but the evening was freezing. Ding Ya had taken off her coat and hadn’t brought it along, and kept puffing out breaths of air.
Seeing her neck still exposed, Shu Chi hesitated and said, “How about you run back?”
Ding Ya asked, “Huh?”
Shu Chi said, “Go back and put your coat on.”
Ding Ya: …
Ding Ya said, “I hate running the most.”
She let out a barely audible huff, one that Shu Chi heard anyway.
This sentence made her zone out again. Long ago, her online girlfriend had said the very same thing during a weekend night voice chat.
Though her voice had been softer then, the end of her sentences lifting upward, finishing with a “hubby.”
“You…”
Did you used to…
Shu Chi’s lips parted and closed. She really couldn’t bring herself to ask. No matter how she phrased it, it sounded perverted.
Ding Ya hummed again in question, her tone rising with curiosity.
She looked up at Shu Chi, but the other woman was staring at the ground. This stretch of path had all manner of decorative street lamps, casting floral patterns onto the ground.
In the shifting light and shadow, Ding Ya noticed the other woman’s ears were somewhat red.
Ding Ya sniffled.
The photographer was walking with a colleague, looking at photos, paying no mind to the clients behind them.
Ding Ya called out, “Are you running?”
Before Shu Chi could speak, Ding Ya’s hand reached out again. “Can you run with me? I’m really cold.”
Shu Chi was about to ask why, but Ding Ya already answered: “Running alone looks so stupid.”
I’ve been uncharacteristically impulsive far too much today.
By the time Shu Chi came to her senses, she was already being pulled into a run by Ding Ya.
The owner exclaimed, “This lighting won’t work! Won’t work at all! We’re professionals. We can’t catfish people too much and waste such a unique aura… Wait, what’s going on?!”
Before she could finish, she saw the one in the black robe pulling the young lady-dressed sister away in a sprint.
Both of them exceeded the average in looks, and the shop’s makeup was top-tier. The night wind whipped their long hair and sleeves—at first glance, it was rather romantic.
Baffled passersby found it novel. Some older tourists even raised their phones to take photos.
Shu Chi’s hand was much larger than Ding Ya’s, and very warm.
Ding Ya panted for breath as she watched the person ahead of her, thinking: This is bad. She’s so exactly my type… could it really not just be a halo effect from the past?
But Shu Chi… is a woman.
Even if she and this person had, by a twist of fate, once had an online romance akin to kids playing house, they couldn’t really end up together… right?
After all, Ding Ya, at her age, still hadn’t seriously liked anyone.
After a few steps, Ding Ya was warm. By the time they reached the shop door, she hadn’t even caught her breath.
Shu Chi stood beside her and watched Ding Ya bend over, clutching her chest. She asked, “Are you okay?”
Ding Ya glared at her. “You ran so fast! Think you’re so great just ’cause you have long legs?”
Shu Chi apologized very earnestly. “I’m sorry. I’ve never run with someone like this before.”
She always seemed to say everything with such seriousness, as if she never joked around. It took a long while before Ding Ya replied with a simple “Oh.”
When they came out after changing back into their own clothes, Ding Ya checked her phone and realized it was almost time for the pleasure boat performance.
Seeing that Shu Chi still hadn’t accepted her friend request, Ding Ya scurried over to catch up with Shu Chi, who was about to leave. “When are you going to accept my friend request?”
Shu Chi was in the middle of replying to messages. She let out an “Oh,” exited, and, right in front of Ding Ya, accepted it.
Ding Ya hopped happily. “I’m off then! See you next time!”
Her retreating figure looked so small, instantly swallowed up by the crowd.
Shu Chi thought to herself: How could there be a next time?
After reuniting with her parents, Ding Ya took a taxi home.
Her rented apartment was a small loft. Previously, when her parents visited, they would sleep in Ding Ya’s bed while Ding Ya slept on the fold-out sofa bed downstairs.
Yang Jie had brought a ton of things. Her suitcase was packed with local specialties from their hometown. Once home, she even dragged Ding Ya to the supermarket to buy quite a few more items.
“Mom, please don’t go to so much trouble. Even if you make soup tonight, I’m working tomorrow and won’t be home for lunch.”
Yang Jie tossed goji berries into the pot as she spoke. “Heat it up and drink it when you get home in the evening. Stop drinking beverages all day long. Think I can’t see just because you blocked me on your WeChat Moments?”
Brushing her teeth, Ding Ya retorted, “I did not!”
Yang Jie asked, “You said you were taking photos tonight. How did they turn out? Let me see?”
Ding Ya’s phone had only a few selfies taken during breaks.
In the photo, Ding Ya’s smile revealed her dimples. Behind her was Shu Chi, staring blankly at the lake. The side profile was strikingly good-looking, her nose bridge tall and straight.
Yang Jie asked, “You took them with that girl who shared our table?”
Ding Ya hummed in confirmation. “It just so happened my milk tea order was number eighty-eight, and hers was sixty-six. Got to pick free outfits for photos.”
She’d actually paid over a thousand yuan extra.
Ding Ya was always free-spending. She figured, at worst, she’d just spend a bit less on in-game purchases this month.
After all, this was her husband from the past. Ding Ya had even carefully calculated it and realized Shu Chi had spent quite a bit of money on her back then.
“This girl is actually very good-looking. Just this scar…”
Yang Jie browsed further and discovered Ding Ya had also taken several solo photos of Shu Chi. She asked, “Are you sure you two didn’t know each other before?”
Ding Ya laughed. “Mom, can’t you tell? She and I are totally not familiar with each other.”
Yang Jie handed the phone back to Ding Ya. “But Mom thinks you seem to like her quite a bit?”
Ding Ya was completely unfazed. She countered, “What makes you say that?”
Yang Jie poked her forehead. “You’ve always liked good-looking people.”
Ding Ya asked, grinning, “Is she good-looking?”
Seen up close today, Shu Chi’s features weren’t exactly delicate. Single eyelids, slightly full lips, a face that was a bit pointed.
At first glance, you’d just think she was very cool.
Yang Jie said, “Her facial features suggest she’s quite sincere. She also has spirited eyes and well-shaped ears.”
Ding Ya burst out laughing. “How did you look that carefully? You even checked out her ears?”
Yang Jie set the timer and pushed her daughter toward the bathroom, going to brush her own teeth. “When you sit and eat for that long, you end up looking.”
“She seems quite blessed.”
Ding Ya teased, “So that amateur physiognomy reading you do actually has logic to it?”
Yang Jie interjected, “Mom has genuinely studied it! I could tell that kid probably had a rough youth. But she seems to be doing well now.”
Ding Ya leaned in. “What about me? What about me?”
Yang Jie cupped her daughter’s face. “No matter how I look at it, you’re very blessed. In your youth, Mom and Dad sheltered and spoiled you. In the future, someone will also shelter and spoil you. Mom is very reassured.”
Ding Ya said, “Nonsense. I don’t even have a partner.”
Yang Jie wasn’t worried at all. “That just means the right person for our baby hasn’t appeared yet. Matchmaking is just making friends. Don’t be too averse to it.”
Ding Ya said, “Then I might as well find someone myself.”
Yang Jie smiled. “Whatever you want. But really, once you decide, you have to bring him to meet Mom and Dad.”
Ding Ya asked, “No need to show Older Brother, right?”
Yang Jie thought of her eldest son and shook her head. “Your brother would be heartbroken and cry.”
Ding Ya instantly felt a wave of nausea.
She remembered being caught by her biological brother years ago, secretly playing on the computer in the middle of the night. Ding Shuqing had scolded her but still hadn’t told their parents.
He’d only warned Ding Ya not to be fooled by strange people online.
Ding Ya vaguely suspected her brother knew about her online dating back then.
Even when she’d faked taking an exam as an excuse to go meet Shu Chi, it seemed like her brother had known.
But Ding Ya didn’t sleep well. Her dreams were full of events from those years, so much so that she could barely keep her eyes open at the next day’s meeting.
Ying Qixin asked her after they left the conference room—
“Did you stay up late playing games again?”
Ding Ya replied, “Nah.”
She yawned just as she spotted the department head hosting their collaborators in the distance.
Jing Yuqi was talking with the department head, a few other people nearby, but Ding Ya spotted Shu Chi at first glance.
Ying Qixin remarked, “Seeing that beauty makes me think of online gossip.”
As they walked toward the reception room, Jing Yuqi noticed Shu Chi spacing out.
She asked, “What’s wrong?”
Following Shu Chi’s gaze, she saw a girl in a lake-blue sweater. Not tall, but wearing a staff badge—probably an employee here.
Shu Chi looked slightly puzzled.
Jing Yuqi found the expression in her eyes unusual. She also seemed to be hesitating to speak, so Jing Yuqi cracked a joke—
“What, don’t tell me you two hooked up last night?”
