Chapter 85

After listening to Xiao Luyan rattle off a string of unsparing compliments, Lu Yuezhi’s mood gradually darkened, but a name still flashed through her mind: Sue.

Was there anyone in the photography world right now who could live up to such praise? Indeed there was—Trans’s prized disciple, Sue. She hadn’t expected another one to pop up now, which made Lu Yuezhi curious but even more tense.

Sue was outstanding, but they had never met, so even her admiration was a kind of abstract feeling. But the person Xiao Luyan was talking about was different. Lu Yuezhi knew exactly how much importance Xiao Luyan placed on this Touring Exhibition. It meant their upcoming collaboration would be intensive, with frequent and in-depth interactions between Xiao Luyan and the other party.

Just thinking about it made her irritable.

Lu Yuezhi immediately shoved Sue out of her mind and focused single-mindedly on digging out exactly who this photographer was that had earned such high praise from Xiao Luyan.

Her face had unconsciously hardened, and her tone came out stiff from her attempt to sound calm.

“Someone that impressive must be pretty famous in the industry. I’ve probably heard of her, right?” Lu Yuezhi tried to fake a smile but found it impossible.

She really couldn’t muster even a hint of a smile!

Xiao Luyan had been watching her reaction the whole time. She had thought Lu Yuezhi would be even more interested after the introduction, but now she seemed overly cold.

Nothing could move her?

Xiao Luyan considered for a moment and decided to reveal a bit more. The specific collaboration details were trade secrets, but the partner was semi-public knowledge in the industry, so there was no need to hide it from Lu Yuezhi.

She had no choice but to bring up Trans early: “The official photography for this is from Trans Studio.”

She figured that even if Lu Yuezhi was new to the professional scene, with her research and passion for photography, she must have heard of Trans long ago. Xiao Luyan didn’t elaborate further, and sure enough, as soon as she finished speaking, she saw the surprise on Lu Yuezhi’s face.

“Trans?!” She wondered to herself if the work trip to Sea City that Xiao Luyan had mentioned before was for the Touring Exhibition.

But she wasn’t young—old enough to be their uncle—so she definitely wasn’t the person Xiao Luyan was talking about. Still, since Trans had come up, it wasn’t hard to guess who it was.

Sure enough, Sue. Lu Yuezhi’s feelings were a bit complicated right now because just a few days ago, Trans had mentioned a project and asked if she was interested.

A two-month shoot in the Sahara, with Sue as the collaborator. Trans had been upfront that this was the first major project after upgrading their partnership, and they thought highly of Lu Yuezhi’s talent, so they wanted her to give it a shot.

Give it a shot? The moment Lu Yuezhi heard Sahara, she had a pretty good idea—this had to be Trans Studio’s big annual publication for next year, the highlight of the whole year. This wasn’t something an ordinary collaborator could get in on, and she had only upgraded her status a few months ago.

This was absolutely a golden opportunity from Trans, and Lu Yuezhi was quite tempted. Although it meant leaving Sea City for a while, it was different from before the wedding.

Her relationship with Xiao Luyan hadn’t broken through yet, but stubbornly sticking by her side didn’t mean much. Dragging it out wouldn’t pry open Xiao Luyan’s heart any faster, and rushing it would just seem unserious.

Lu Yuezhi had already decided to be more reserved and steady, so she wasn’t as insistent on seeing each other every day. The reason she hadn’t replied right away was that she felt she should discuss it with Xiao Luyan first, or at least give her a heads-up.

She didn’t want the person she liked most to be the last one notified.

But Xiao Luyan had been so busy lately, and the project wasn’t that urgent anyway, so Lu Yuezhi planned to bring it up later.

She had originally been pretty looking forward to collaborating with Sue. Lu Yuezhi had always wanted a chance to exchange ideas with her. She admired the other’s talent but didn’t think she was much inferior—they each had their strengths and preferences.

But now her attitude toward Sue felt a little off. To say she didn’t mind at all would be pure pretense. Xiao Luyan had only sung her praises a few times without exaggeration—Sue really did have those accomplishments—but Lu Yuezhi still felt uncomfortable.

What bothered her wasn’t how impressive Sue was; it was how Xiao Luyan viewed that “impressiveness.”

But right now, she didn’t have anything concrete to compare objectively with Sue, even though Xiao Luyan often said she had potential.

Seeing her stay silent for so long, Xiao Luyan was puzzled. She had thought mentioning Trans would excite Lu Yuezhi or prompt her to ask for more details. Although trade secrets limited what she could share, she trusted Lu Yuezhi and had no intention of hiding anything she could say.

But why wasn’t Lu Yuezhi saying anything?

She took the initiative to add: “The person in charge this time is Su Yiqui, also her prized disciple. You’re around the same age, so you should have some common ground.”

Common ground? Lu Yuezhi’s first reaction was Xiao Luyan’s name.

But that wasn’t something to say to her face, so she just brushed it off: “She’s probably a lot older than me. After all, she entered the industry ten years ago.”

A bit older was good—it would avoid direct competition. But it was much better than that River who still hadn’t shown up. Thinking of that name brought the hidden worry back to Xiao Luyan’s mind.

The photography team members arrived one after another, and Xiao Luyan finally confirmed that River wasn’t there. She had paid attention—no one mentioned the name, which meant this collaboration had nothing to do with her.

That put her mind at ease for the moment, but she didn’t dare let her guard down, which was why she wanted Lu Yuezhi to seize the opportunity. After all, the other had the advantage of proximity with plenty of chances to shine. Lu Yuezhi needed to leave a deep impression if she wanted a shot at surpassing her.

“A bit older is fine—more experienced, more mature, and her guidance would be more targeted, right?”

If they were all fresh out of the novice stage, they’d just charge ahead blindly, with who knows how many pitfalls ahead. Su Yiqui had been a newbie once too; she might help Lu Yuezhi avoid some unnecessary mistakes. That was a good thing.

Lu Yuezhi had zero interest in mentioning her own collaboration with Trans. On one hand, it would make it seem like she was following in Su Yiqui’s footsteps; on the other, her competitive spirit was swelling like never before. She wanted to show off some eye-catching results before officially telling Xiao Luyan.

Xiao Luyan hadn’t expected her to stay quiet, but her expression really didn’t look good.

“Yuezhi, what do you think about this?” She thought that if Lu Yuezhi really disliked the matchmaking, she wouldn’t push it.

Lu Yuezhi was fuming inside—what was there to think? She couldn’t change the collaboration, or Su Yiqui’s accomplishments.

But she also couldn’t change how much she cared about Xiao Luyan.

“No particular thoughts.” Lu Yuezhi tugged faintly at the corner of her mouth.

But she found she couldn’t play it cool and couldn’t hold back: “How long will this shoot last?”

Xiao Luyan was surprised she was interested in that and thought for a moment: “The initial phase is one month. If the results meet expectations, another month after that should do it.”

“And if they don’t meet expectations?” That happened often, and Lu Yuezhi had experience with it.

Xiao Luyan frowned. If they didn’t meet expectations, it would be a big hassle—something she didn’t want to see, but entirely possible.

“Then who knows how long it would take.”

Irritation surged in Lu Yuezhi’s chest as she imagined Xiao Luyan working overtime frequently, discussing adjustments with Su Yiqui.

“I’m full. Heading back to the room.” Lu Yuezhi said that and left right away.

Only then did Xiao Luyan sense another intense emotion from her back, which showed no lingering attachment whatsoever.

Lu Yuezhi was unhappy.

It wasn’t quite the same as that day when she had sat on the sofa waiting for her to come home, but it was unhappiness all the same. Xiao Luyan’s heart tightened, and that familiar ache and tension returned.

She followed her, wanting to ask what was wrong.

Standing outside the bedroom door, she reflected for a bit and belatedly realized she might have overstepped. Lu Yuezhi had always disliked relying on connections for shortcuts—whether it was He Yunqing’s request last time or the Cultural Heritage Bureau’s selection process, she had insisted on making it on her own.

That earlier buildup must have tipped her off, right?

She didn’t like arrangements like that, so she was unhappy.

Xiao Luyan thought it would be a shame to miss such an opportunity. But forcing Lu Yuezhi into it didn’t feel right either. If she didn’t like it, was connecting with Trans really a good thing?

Xiao Luyan realized she was still stuck in her habitual thinking and hadn’t truly considered things from Lu Yuezhi’s perspective. What she thought was good might not be what Lu Yuezhi wanted.

In that case, she wouldn’t bring it up again. She’d step in if Lu Yuezhi needed it later.

Lu Yuezhi really didn’t mention Su Yiqui again after that, as if their conversation that day had just been casual chit-chat. At the same time, Xiao Luyan noticed Lu Yuezhi getting busier and busier, sometimes even more than her.

That day, Lu Yuezhi worked overtime until ten-thirty before coming back. Hearing the noise, Xiao Luyan came out of the bedroom and saw the exhausted face under the lights.

“Why so late again?” Xiao Luyan saw the red veins in her eyes and felt a pang in her heart.

Lu Yuezhi smiled: “Editing photos. Lost track of time.”

She used to do that too—once immersed, she forgot everything. That was her brief virtual escape from reality, until she met Xiao Luyan.

Xiao Luyan had given her the courage to feel the real world again; Xiao Luyan was her real joy. But she couldn’t abandon photography because of that, or suddenly only think about dating.

The more connected she was to the real world, the more she understood the importance of her career. Besides, she really wanted to show some achievements to Xiao Luyan now. Su Yiqui might be impressive, but she wasn’t the only one.

Her eyes felt a bit dry, and she couldn’t help wanting to rub them.

Her wrist was caught mid-air, Xiao Luyan’s breath very close.

“Don’t rub. That’s bad for your eyes.”

Lu Yuezhi was so sleepy her brain was moving slowly. She knew it was bad, but exhaustion made her follow instincts more.

Xiao Luyan’s sudden closeness made her forget everything else, just staring blankly at her.

How could there be such a beautiful face? No matter the expression, it effortlessly stirred her heart.

Lu Yuezhi felt that even if she saw it every day, she wouldn’t get tired of it—instead, the more she looked, the more she liked it.

Her straightforward gaze made Xiao Luyan’s ears heat up, but she still didn’t let go.

Compared to Lu Yuezhi’s constant early outs and late returns these days, this moment of closeness felt rare; she should savor it longer.

She had been in meetings all day and was exhausted when she got home. She should have gone to bed early, but once she lay down, she couldn’t sleep.

At eight, she messaged to ask if Lu Yuezhi was still working overtime, but the reply was only that her return time was uncertain.

Xiao Luyan was annoyed by those three words “uncertain” and couldn’t keep asking.

Unable to sleep, she got up to review some documents instead. She had thought it was worry about Lu Yuezhi coming home too late, but when she found herself leaving the room involuntarily, Xiao Luyan had to admit she just wanted to see this person.

She had gotten used to coming home from work to someone there—eating together, chatting, saying goodnight before bed.

Occasionally when she lost control, someone would envelop her with silent gentleness, finding ways to cheer her up. Sincerely saying she liked her, letting her bask in the purest care—she felt she had already become dependent on this warmth.