But Yan Muyu was never too impressed with her own work.
Her voice would float lightly, tinged with arrogance and a sense of entitlement. “Is this pretty enough?”
“It’s weird. The lens doesn’t capture even one-ten-thousandth of how good you look.”
There was always that wild edge to her, the kind that came with artistic passion.
Now, with her puzzle unsolved, a faint cloud of worry shadowed Yan Muyu’s brow.
It made Qiu Chao, back then, want to reach out and smooth those brows, to trace Yan Muyu’s features with her lips.
Yan Muyu was still muttering to herself. “Did I mess up the lighting?”
“Focus issue?”
“I just swapped to a new lens.”
“No way…”
When she got lost in her work like this, she could set Qiu Chao aside entirely, her mind utterly absorbed.
It made Yan Muyu look twice as alluring, stirring a desire in others to claim her.
Even on the day they first slept together, while shooting for the magazine, Yan Muyu had been dissatisfied.
The up-and-coming photographer was full of vigor, but her assistant worried that Yan Muyu was being too demanding. They feared Qiu Chao, the one being posed, might get upset.
They shot from early morning until dusk that day.
Everyone in the studio was buzzing over the breakup announcement from Autumn Tide Studio, but no one dared disturb Yan Muyu.
This young, already famous photographer hated interruptions.
Before her, top-tier celebrities had never booked Yan Muyu’s shoots.
But every artist she’d photographed came alive in front of the lens.
Netizens credited it to Yan Muyu’s talent, not the stars’ own charisma.
That year, though, Qiu Chao was different.
Yan Muyu had seen every side of Qiu Chao. By age, Qiu Chao was half a year younger—like Little Yan.
But mentally, Qiu Chao was far more mature than Yan Muyu, and with her status in the family, she became the mature little sister-in-law.
For four years, Qiu Chao missed every New Year’s Eve due to filming.
Yan Muyu was often abroad because of time differences, so she only celebrated with Yan Kai when their schedules miraculously aligned.
Qiu Chao and Yan Muyu never shared a New Year’s together, but they always crossed paths in the summer.
Yan Muyu had rarely shot Qiu Chao in winter looks. In her mind, Qiu Chao was like the moss growing on rocks near a pond’s surface in summer.
Not dark, but damp enough, her gaze carrying that same misty quality.
Winter moss should be bone-chillingly cold.
But Yan Muyu couldn’t capture it.
No matter how she coaxed Qiu Chao to relax, amid the fake snowscapes and artificial flurries of snowflakes.
Qiu Chao’s smiles or lack thereof were too radiant, nothing like the icy beauty online reviews raved about. She seemed like a girl just past puberty.
Or finally matching her age—a fresh college graduate.
Even though her student days had been too short, and far from joyful.
Yet how could she ever look cold in Yan Muyu’s lens?
To this day, Yan Muyu still considered that set her biggest professional failure. What followed that night with Qiu Chao had tormented her even more.
Even though the whole world knew about Qiu Chao’s morning breakup announcement with her brother.
They might have split long before, but it still stuck in Yan Muyu’s throat like a fishbone.
It wasn’t just Qiu Chao’s scheming, the shadow of the breakup, or Yan Muyu’s one-sided frustration during the shoot.
She couldn’t forgive the surge of relief she’d felt the instant she saw the news.
Even if it lasted only a second, it was a betrayal of her family.
A betrayal of herself.
She hated change, hated anything outside her plans. Qiu Chao had shattered all her careful designs.
That summer, Yan Muyu had been incredulous, heartbroken, frantic…
She felt her supposedly unmatched skills failing to capture Qiu Chao’s most evident desolation was the ultimate insult to her own integrity.
But that year’s Yan Muyu wasn’t one to concede.
She had been chief photographer at Hree for years, shooting few artists but always delivering stunning concepts.
Still, the longer it went on, the more off it felt.
That thorn in her throat killed her instinct to probe her subjects.
She hadn’t lost her commercial chops, but her pure, instinctive curiosity for photography was gone.
Her curiosity had vanished.
Lost to Qiu Chao.
Because she hadn’t captured the Qiu Chao from her vision—the one fleetingly sorrowful in a snowy night.
She wasn’t happy with the final shots that netizens called “sweetheart” material.
Qiu Chao was never sweet.
She wasn’t even pure liqueur-filled chocolate at 100 proof. She was the cheap kind, like the fake cocoa butter “golden ingot” chocolates sold at rural co-op stores.
Wrapped in gaudy gold foil that made them look luxurious.
But at their core, they were artificially sweetened junk.
They left a cloying taste in your throat, then a dull ache, as if you’d been poisoned.
Now Yan Muyu felt that long-lost curiosity reignite—from the personal to the story itself.
She realized with sorrow that Qiu Chao was still right there, woven through years of her life. There was no escaping her so easily.
Qiu Chao was a meteorite crashing in—a quiet, deep-flowing madness that Yan Muyu still couldn’t reflect in her lens.
~~~
Yan Muyu took a few shots and then sat down. Over there, Hong Long was stir-frying vegetables.
She and Qiu Chao sat off to the side, with Qiu Chao still eyeing the snacks she’d bought, photographing them one by one.
Yan Muyu asked her, “Who are you shooting those for?”
Qiu Chao: “Don’t worry, no boyfriend.”
Yan Muyu choked a little.
Qiu Chao added, “No girlfriend either.”
Yan Muyu: “I didn’t ask about that.”
Qiu Chao pulled a small mirror from her side pocket and checked her tongue.
She even stuck it out toward Yan Muyu, without a shred of poise. “Is it green?”
Yan Muyu said irritably, “Yeah, it’s green. Ugly as sin.”
She snatched the mirror and checked her own tongue, jumping in surprise. “Can this even pass for a ghost?”
Qiu Chao: “If we’re ghosts, we’ll haunt together.”
Yan Muyu: “Quit with the spooky talk all the time.”
【Sister Qiu, you say stuff that’s so easy to misunderstand.】
【She loves her so much.】
【Yan Muyu’s attitude is getting so natural. What was with the act in the first episode?】
【Ten years apart—you gotta have some awkwardness for a day, right?】
Qiu Chao: “Sending them to my little sister. See?”
She slid her phone over. Qiu Yuan had just replied: “I want some too.”
Yan Muyu: “How’s she doing?”
Qiu Chao: “She makes pottery every day now. Pretty happy with it.”
Yan Muyu’s memory of Qiu Yuan was hazy. She murmured an acknowledgment.
Seeing how much Qiu Chao enjoyed these little snacks, she asked, “Did you eat stuff like this as a kid?”
Qiu Chao sighed. “Not like you from a big family. I was just a wild village kid back then.”
She cradled her face with a grin. The kitchen in this old house was spotless thanks to its owners, though the only modern touch was the fridge.
On the stove sat a soot-blackened kettle. Just then, Hong Long poured hot water into a cup for tea.
Yan Muyu: “You never mentioned that before.”
She picked up the teapot on the table and poured Qiu Chao a cup of water. Hanging at the table’s edge was a dated Guanyin Sending Child Picture. Yan Muyu glanced at the date and realized it was from four years ago.
Qiu Chao said, “I used to be busy, but whenever I was with you, you’d always drag me out to have fun.”
Yan Muyu replied, “When did I ever drag you out to play?”
Her tone wasn’t overly dramatic or loud.
The surroundings were very quiet. They could hear the firewood crackling in the stove, the water coming to a boil, and Xiao Qing calling out Boss Hong’s name.
“Longlong, give this a taste.”
The affectionate repetition completely softened the androgynous edge of the name.
When spoken so tenderly by this woman, the dependence in it was laid bare without any disguise. Yan Muyu whispered, “Aren’t you curious?”
Qiu Chao was busy replying to a message from Qiu Yuan.
Qiu Yuan: Have you gotten any closer to Little Yan-jie?
Qiu Chao: For the time being.
Her little sister still knew nothing about the person her big sister liked, but she had witnessed how Qiu Chao and Yan Muyu used to get along.
She thought it was only natural for them to be so close.
Qiu Chao looked up. “What?”
Her hair that day had been restyled into fresh braids by the embroiderers at the Embroidery Workshop. Silver threads were woven through it, catching the eye even in the dim kitchen.
Yan Muyu said, “I mean, aren’t you curious about Boss Hong and Boss Wu?”
【I’m curious!】
【Curious as hell!】
The barrage scrolled by in a wave of curiosity, along with clips from that shady variety show where official accounts crossed over to film dinners at other people’s homes.
Right now, #YanMuyuGetsHerMeatStolenByDog was still trending high. Uninitiated passersby who clicked in would die laughing at the dog gang’s antics, assuming it was staged by the production team.
But the curated screenshots of Qiu Chao and Yan Muyu sharing the frame were utterly captivating.
Not to mention the shots of Qiu Chao huddled with the kids, picking out snacks.
Variety shows could strip away an actor’s mystique, but in a way, they also confirmed that these people were just regular folks.
For Qiu Chao, that was the highest praise.
She had always been plagued by scandals. The glory from her stunning looks and figure came wrapped in filthy suspicions.
Qiu Chao never regretted choosing this thorny path that demanded she hack through the underbrush.
With nothing to her name back then, she had no other road to take. If Yan Muyu hadn’t saved her all those years ago, she might have died long before.
Died with a heart turned to ash, shambling through life like a walking corpse.
Qiu Chao said, “Nah, not curious at all.”
As she spoke, she stared straight at Yan Muyu. Yan Muyu asked, “Really?”
Yan Muyu propped her chin on her hand as she watched Hong Long bring over the dishes. She felt like she was being a total freeloader and thought about offering to help.
Just as she opened her mouth, Qiu Chao turned to Hong Long. “Boss Hong, how did you and Boss Wu meet?”
Qiu Chao added, “Have you known each other for long?”
Yan Muyu: …
Weren’t you just saying you weren’t curious?
The dark-skinned woman pressed the would-be helper Yan Muyu back down into her seat. She said, “We’ve known each other for three years now. I’m twenty-eight this year, and Xiao Qing’s twenty-six.”
The woman in the red dress, finished with the ribs, hobbled over on her crutch and repeated, “Twenty-six, a real old maid at this point.”
Yan Muyu said, “Old? Not at all—you’re still young.”
Xiao Qing glanced at her, then at Qiu Chao. “How old are you two?”
Yan Muyu said, “Guess which one of us is older, me or her?”
Qiu Chao leaned toward Yan Muyu, batting her eyes at Xiao Qing—or so it looked to the audience, like she was winking right at them.
Hong Long pulled out a chair for Xiao Qing and helped her sit, then went off to ladle out some rice.
Xiao Qing cupped her face and pointed at Qiu Chao. “You’re older.”
Yan Muyu burst out laughing. “Wrong!”
Xiao Qing said, “No way!”
She seemed a bit stubborn about it and asked for Yan Muyu’s birth date. Then she started counting on her fingers.
There was no hint of judgment in Yan Muyu’s eyes. To the viewers, the vibe between her and Qiu Chao right then felt just the same.
She treated everyone equally, with none of the typical spoiled rich-kid habits.
She even had a special fondness for women. The camera lingered just a touch, switching from wide shots to close-ups, easily capturing a moment that looked like Yan Muyu gazing with deep affection.
But in Boss Xiao Qing’s eyes, there was only her own little thundercloud.
She counted with intense focus. Yan Muyu, smiling, said, “Stop counting. I was just messing with you—I’m actually younger than her.”
Xiao Qing puffed out her cheeks. “You’re lying! You’re so mean.”
Yan Muyu said, “Yeah, yeah, I’m the big bad wolf. So, does that mean you won’t let me eat?”
Xiao Qing glanced at Qiu Chao again, then bowed her head and murmured, “Fine, whatever.”
Her voice was so soft that the audience couldn’t catch it, but Yan Muyu heard every word.
“Little Qiu likes you, so you’re a good person.”
