Li Chunfeng glanced at Feng Yu, who looked ready to head to a bar and vent all her frustrations, and said something rare.
“I should go home.”
“What?” Feng Yu exclaimed in surprise.
Li Chunfeng said,
“Don’t go drinking yourself. Don’t mess around with your body just because you’re young.”
“What nonsense are you spouting?”
Feng Yu reached over to feel her forehead. “No fever either. Why are you talking like an old lady?”
Li Chunfeng took the bag off her own shoulder.
She also moved Feng Yu’s hand away from her forehead, frowning slightly as she warned her,
“I’m married. Have a little sense of boundaries.”
–
Qiu Yiran was organizing materials in the study when she accidentally fell asleep.
Then the lights suddenly went out.
She jolted awake—
She lifted her head from the desk, bleary-eyed, and saw Li Chunfeng standing in the doorway.
The woman leaned against the doorframe, her back to the living room light, her whole figure shrouded in a hazy silhouette.
Qiu Yiran let out a breath of relief and rubbed her eyes. “When did you get back?”
Li Chunfeng didn’t answer, just stared at her.
Qiu Yiran found it odd. “Li Chunfeng?”
“Qiu Yiran.”
Li Chunfeng called her name.
Then she slowly lowered her tightly clasped hands and asked calmly,
“Have you been cheating lately?”
“What?!” Qiu Yiran paled in shock, nearly choking on air.
“Because you’re acting weird.”
Li Chunfeng narrowed her eyes at her, then walked over, bent down, hugged her from behind, and nuzzled subtly against her neck.
“You’re always avoiding being with me.”
“You’ve been drinking?” Qiu Yiran patted Li Chunfeng’s cheek, asking worriedly.
“Why are you talking such nonsense?”
“Doesn’t it always start with details like this?” Li Chunfeng buried her face in her shoulder, her nose brushing her right neck, her voice low.
“First, excuses about being busy with work, actually hiding in the study video calling other women. Then, at bedtime, saying you have to go out, and one time you don’t come back all night. Later, you’re never home, and finally, you find clues on the phone, lipstick marks from other women on your clothes…”
“Wait a second!”
If this kept going, she’d probably weave a story about catching her in bed. Qiu Yiran felt a headache coming on from Li Chunfeng’s wild imagination.
She turned her head, cupped Li Chunfeng’s face.
Maybe because of the alcohol, Li Chunfeng’s eyes looked a bit moist, as if brimming with lingering booze.
Qiu Yiran couldn’t resist and kissed her, then explained earnestly,
“I only love you.”
Li Chunfeng blinked, her sharp, thin chin poking mischievously at her palm.
“Then how will you prove it?”
Qiu Yiran suddenly felt the situation getting tricky—how do you prove love? It seemed like a question with no standard answer.
And as she hesitated—
Li Chunfeng suddenly turned her face toward her.
In front of the blue glow of the computer screen, they shared a very long kiss that nearly left her breathless.
Only then did Li Chunfeng release her.
She hugged her tightly, burying her face in her shoulder as if to bite her.
But in the end, she just licked her shoulder lightly.
Qiu Yiran was dazed.
But she also sensed Li Chunfeng’s mood was off and struggled to clear her hazy mind.
Panting slightly, she asked worriedly,
“What’s wrong, Li Chunfeng?”
Li Chunfeng didn’t speak, but her eyes were still glistening.
Qiu Yiran kissed her eyes.
She suddenly frowned. “Did someone outside bully you?”
Actually, just hearing that from Qiu Yiran was enough—Li Chunfeng thought.
Then she shook her head on Qiu Yiran’s shoulder and awkwardly changed the subject.
“So, great… pho… to… gra… pher…”
Her chin bobbed up and down like a puppet perched on her shoulder.
“What have you been up to these days?”
Qiu Yiran noticed the obvious evasion but didn’t press Li Chunfeng. She just patted her head again, as if awkwardly comforting her.
“Haven’t things with your old company wrapped up recently?” They cuddled in the dark room for a bit. Qiu Yiran didn’t urge her to turn on the light but asked patiently,
“Any new plans?”
It was perfect timing for Qiu Yiran to ask that. Li Chunfeng hesitated; she didn’t want to tell Qiu Yiran what had happened today.
Qiu Yiran would probably be angrier than her if she knew.
Li Chunfeng thought idly.
Then she casually played with Qiu Yiran’s soft black hair, as if treating the matter lightly.
So she wouldn’t feel any hurt from it.
“Not yet.”
“Not yet?” Qiu Yiran was puzzled.
She had clearly overheard Li Chunfeng taking interview calls several times, but never heard any results afterward.
“But it doesn’t matter.” Qiu Yiran yawned, her words sounding even more baseless than Feng Yu’s. “You’re about to have a new job soon.”
“Yeah, I will.” Li Chunfeng knew Qiu Yiran always sounded confident when comforting her.
Unlike her own perfunctory responses.
“It’s true.” Qiu Yiran emphasized.
“Got it.” Li Chunfeng kissed her chin.
She knew Qiu Yiran wouldn’t make decisions for her without permission, so she wasn’t worried if Qiu Yiran had contacted anyone for her.
“From my experience, as long as we keep at it, we’ll definitely get replies eventually.” Qiu Yiran explained seriously.
“What experience?” Li Chunfeng finally sensed something off and lifted her face from Qiu Yiran’s shoulder. “What replies?”
Qiu Yiran didn’t answer right away.
Instead, she suddenly stood up.
She pressed Li Chunfeng, who had been hugging her from the chair’s back, down onto the chair.
Then she circled behind Li Chunfeng.
Qiu Yiran rested her chin on Li Chunfeng’s head; the two stacked together like Russian nesting dolls left outside.
She turned on the computer.
Their hair tangled together, carrying the same shampoo scent.
Inside the computer—
Was what Qiu Yiran had been busy with lately.
She had spent about a week on it.
She had emailed many people via mail, including Li Chunfeng’s former agency and the organizers of competitions Li Chunfeng had entered before. She meticulously gathered Li Chunfeng’s past work, including photos, videos, even runway videos from back home, plus Li Chunfeng’s personal info. She organized it all into a sleek portfolio.
She did this based entirely on her own experience of submitting thousands of times—
Even for photos or portfolios, it wasn’t just sending one picture; you needed to introduce the core concept, theme, shooting angle… a ton of writing.
Having failed hundreds or thousands of times, Qiu Yiran had revised her submissions countless times, knowing how to highlight themes better, even tailoring to what styles different brands and magazines preferred to boost selection chances.
Now, she applied all that experience to Li Chunfeng’s situation.
Though models and photographers submitted different things, once you grasped the essentials, the experience transferred.
“It’s not fully polished yet.”
Qiu Yiran slid the mouse, showing it to Li Chunfeng for her to check for issues, while explaining,
“But it’ll be done soon. And don’t worry about the wait; I did the same, submitting tons of portfolios to magazines, brands, competitions… and finally got replies. Once you get the first one, the second follows soon after…”
Qiu Yiran could guess Li Chunfeng was upset about work tonight, but she didn’t want to touch her sore spot. She just hoped to give Li Chunfeng strength.
—This was what a wife should do, right?
But she was cautious about it—their identities were sensitive. She didn’t know how to help without making Li Chunfeng feel looked down on.
Many things changed with perspective.
Even what she saw as help.
One misstep, and it could turn into condescending “charity” from on high.
After explaining, Li Chunfeng was silent for a long time.
Qiu Yiran held her breath, then nudged her with her chin.
“Li Chunfeng, are you unhappy that I did this?”
She was nervous, like awaiting judgment.
Li Chunfeng was quiet for a long while before moving.
She placed her hand over Qiu Yiran’s mouse hand, sliding back and forth to look, for a long time.
It stopped on a photo of herself at seventeen on the runway—seventeen-year-old Li Chunfeng hadn’t fully matured; her features were defined but not as striking as now, still a bit green, her eyes holding straightforward defiance toward the camera. Back then, she never imagined she’d still be nothing at twenty-three.
After staring for a bit, Li Chunfeng suddenly asked,
“What do you feel seeing this photo?”
“Me?” Qiu Yiran didn’t get why it turned into a quiz question. She eyed it cautiously, then answered sincerely, “A kid full of life, probably thinking—’I’m gonna conquer the whole world.'”
Li Chunfeng laughed, poking the seventeen-year-old her on the screen with the cursor.
After a moment’s thought, she answered seriously, “Rough words, but true. Back then, I really thought since I was already this good at seventeen, I’d be even greater later.”
“You were pretty fearless.” Qiu Yiran commented.
Then patted her head.
“But yeah, impressive, persisting alone in Paris this long.”
Li Chunfeng didn’t respond to that.
She quietly flipped to the next one, from when she was a bit older—
By then, she had come to Paris.
She was still diligently doing work for her old company, shelling out a few hundred for makeup and hair, ending up with crude, bizarre looks that she and Feng Yu had hastily done themselves to make gigs.
She didn’t know she was different from the other models there, ending up with only a tenth of the pay.
Nor that soon after, she’d be completely buried.
But Qiu Yiran had turned this photo black-and-white, adjusting contrast and exposure just right. So it didn’t match Li Chunfeng’s embarrassing memory.
Magical.
Qiu Yiran, single-handedly, turned Li Chunfeng’s humiliating past into something high-class.
Li Chunfeng stared at the photo for a bit. “What about this one?”
“This will probably become the story of the famous model Li Chunfeng’s hardworking struggles before she made it big.” Qiu Yiran didn’t even blink.
Li Chunfeng laughed uncontrollably.
Qiu Yiran now probably knew what Li Chunfeng wanted to do. She hugged Li Chunfeng from behind, sliding through the photos one by one, then gave her own feelings on each one.
“A desperate, all-in tone.”
“A face with really strong impact.”
“Perfect for a certain magazine’s New Year cover this year.”
“I’ve always wanted to find a model with this kind of vibe, but unfortunately I didn’t know you back then.”
“So, Li Chunfeng, when are you going to agree to be my model?”
……
It might have been a bit exaggerated, but Qiu Yiran could guarantee—one word at a time came straight from the heart.
If before she had only felt that elusive sense that Li Chunfeng was suited for this line of work.
Then now, after gathering all this material and seeing how Li Chunfeng went from full of youthful vigor to gradually worn down into a defeated posture over those past five years, she felt heartbroken for that time—and found it such a pity.
But, but.
None of that stopped her—
From the objective position of a photographer, she praised the model Li Chunfeng’s tenacious and unyielding qualities.
She swore this had absolutely nothing to do with their marriage.
When she flipped to the last photo, Li Chunfeng stayed silent for a long time before finally speaking.
“Thank you.”
“What are you thanking me for?”
Qiu Yiran stroked her naturally curly, somewhat fluffy hair. “This is all your own achievement.”
She meant it.
If Li Chunfeng had done nothing in those previous five years, scorning the cheap jobs arranged by her old company and half-assing them because they weren’t high-class enough…
Then right now, the stuff she could pull together wouldn’t have been enough to support finishing this submission.
“I’m serious,” Li Chunfeng said.
She saw—though the document wasn’t fully polished yet, Qiu Yiran had already put her own contact info and phone number at the top.
All of it was her own.
There was no trace of Ian anywhere in it.
The computer screen went dark.
Li Chunfeng stared at her reflection on the black screen—the image of Qiu Yiran standing behind her, gazing at her intently.
It was her wife, Qiu Yiran.
Not the lofty photographer Ian looking down on her from above.
Nothing had even started yet.
Li Chunfeng still had achieved nothing; aside from Qiu Yiran, she possessed nothing.
Both of them were in the study, in front of a tiny screen, wearing pajamas.
Yet suddenly, Li Chunfeng felt like she was already standing on the podium of some global modeling competition, accepting an award.
And racking her brains, she couldn’t help but deliver some heartfelt speech.
“If it weren’t for you, I might not have realized how much I’ve been through on this path.”
“Lately, I’ve been trying to look forward, so I’ve felt lost a lot—unsure which road ahead is the best, or how to even keep moving forward.”
Qiu Yiran stood patiently behind Li Chunfeng, listening to her without laughing at her for making a big deal out of it or interrupting.
Instead, she gazed at her very gently.
“But now I know that if I occasionally look back…”
Li Chunfeng looked at Qiu Yiran’s eyes in the reflection from the dark screen and smiled very sincerely.
“I’m actually pretty great.”
Hearing her say it so unreservedly, Qiu Yiran laughed too.
The study light was off; the only illumination came from the living room light spilling in, flowing along their profiles.
On the computer screen were two faces laughing heartily.
Paris, known as the City of Light, was bright everywhere, but the two young women huddled together, enjoying the darkness in their little corner.
“You’re amazing.”
That night, Qiu Yiran pressed her forehead against Li Chunfeng’s and said it very sincerely and confidently.
“You’ll become someone truly incredible.”
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