“Those shoes look great on you.”
It was a bit forced.
Li Wuhui gave her a strange look for a few seconds before replying, “Yeah, I know.”
A very “Li Wuhui” response.
It was confident, but delivered so casually that it sounded like an indisputable fact.
Qiu Yiran said no more.
But while she wasn’t looking, Li Wuhui glanced at the anti-slip shoes on her feet and silently concluded—indeed not very pretty, and not something that brought much joy when bought.
Actually, after returning to her room earlier—
Li Wuhui had gone out again.
She rushed back to the store where Qiu Yiran had bought her shoes as fast as she could. Amid the crowd, she spotted that exact pair Qiu Yiran had bought—
After being purchased, it had been put back on display in an inconspicuous corner spot.
In half an hour, no one had picked it up. No other Qiu Yiran went toward it.
At that moment.
Li Wuhui felt inexplicably sad. She thought the shoes were just like Qiu Yiran—overlooked by so many people.
So she walked over.
Under the surprised gaze of the clerk, she picked out the shoes they’d already bought and purchased them again.
She didn’t try them on, just gave her shoe size. After paying, she did think—
Maybe she’d just wear this pair to match Qiu Yiran.
But back in the room.
Li Wuhui placed both pairs side by side.
The ones she had originally planned to wear.
She sat quietly on the bed for ten minutes, thinking of many things—
What Wangwang Xuebing had told her.
The look in Qiu Yiran’s eyes passing the shoe store, the way Qiu Yiran’s back hunched slightly upon entering the room…
In the end, Li Wuhui chose the original pair—the ones Qiu Yiran had called pretty.
So she was uncharacteristically ten minutes late.
But seeing the obvious relief on Qiu Yiran’s face at that moment, Li Wuhui knew she hadn’t chosen wrong this time.
Qiu Yiran never wanted her accommodations.
Even if Qiu Yiran herself was in pain, weak, and had to reluctantly accept the fact that she could only wear shoes she liked for a short while before taking them off.
She still hoped—Li Wuhui could be pretty, brave, and always do what she wanted.
A motion-sensor light in the hallway went out. Qiu Yiran stopped, turned, and called from the half-light, half-dark boundary,
“Li Wuhui?”
Li Wuhui wiped the corner of her reddened eye with the side of her face, cleared her throat,
“Coming.”
–
After they went downstairs.
The Aurora Guide was already waiting by the car. Seeing them come down, she enthusiastically waved and introduced herself in broken Chinese,
“I’m Valentina. You can also call me my temporary Chinese name, Fried Egg.”
Qiu Yiran was a bit bewildered.
The Russians she’d met all seemed to love picking unique Chinese names. “Did you come up with this Chinese name just for us?”
Fried Egg gave a thumbs up.
That meant she’d have to come up with different names for guests from different countries—Qiu Yiran politely didn’t ask.
Fried Egg was a tall white woman, completely mismatched with the Chinese name.
Once they got in the car, Fried Egg happily introduced the itinerary for their Aurora Journey.
It was a five-seater.
After getting in, Qiu Yiran and Li Wuhui both sat in the back row.
The interior was spacious, so they had no reason to sit close, with a large gap between them.
Fried Egg glanced at them from the rearview mirror.
As if making small talk, she brought it up. “You didn’t bring any photography gear?”
Qiu Yiran blinked.
“You two look like professional photographers.” Fried Egg’s English was standard. She glanced at them several times in the rearview mirror, then suddenly rubbed her chin in confusion and muttered, “And you two seem kinda familiar…”
“Really?” Li Wuhui deftly deflected the topic, her eyes curving up. “Between us, who do you think is the photographer?”
Qiu Yiran froze.
She turned her face, looking at Li Wuhui in surprise.
It wasn’t reproachful, just caught off guard.
But Li Wuhui acted completely natural, even telling Fried Egg up front,
“Because you’re right.”
“One of us is indeed a professional photographer.”
“Emm—” Fried Egg pondered while driving, glancing back at the rearview several times, as if struggling to decide.
For some reason.
Despite the casual gesture, Qiu Yiran inexplicably grew tense.
She lowered her head, avoiding Fried Egg’s gaze.
Until Fried Egg finally decided and shouted,
“The one on the right!”
Qiu Yiran’s clenched clothing hem suddenly relaxed.
The one on the right was Li Wuhui.
Having received such a firm affirmation from Fried Egg, Li Wuhui laughed, but also very naturally took out her previous film camera, nodding in admission.
“Yes, I am.”
“Yay!” Fried Egg made a V-sign up front.
Qiu Yiran silently touched her nose, then glanced at the camera in Li Wuhui’s hand—
Li Wuhui had said earlier that she would give her the film roll inside, so she had taken several shots in a row, but hadn’t taken it out to shoot anymore afterward.
Only now did she bring out this camera again, and Qiu Yiran didn’t know if there was some purpose behind it.
However, after the lesson from before—
Qiu Yiran wasn’t as sensitive about this matter anymore.
But she still wasn’t at the point of actively joining in on the photography talk.
Afterward, Li Wuhui very naturally made up some stories and chatted with Fried Egg about her process of learning photography.
Qiu Yiran never spoke, just quietly kept her hands in her pockets.
Later, she even heard Li Wuhui say—that she had stepped onto the path of photography only after being told by a famous photographer that she could hold a photo exhibition in Paris in the future.
Fried Egg listened to this entire “history” very seriously, even giving a genuine thumbs up.
Qiu Yiran didn’t interject.
But she couldn’t bear to watch Fried Egg get fooled, so she simply turned her face away.
She didn’t know how long the two of them chatted about this and that, but she heard Fried Egg up front finally bring up the northern lights again—
Because after making the appointment, the weather had conveniently turned bad, so they didn’t know if they could see it today. She would first take them to a few usual spots to check, and if they couldn’t see it, given how well they got along, she could take them chasing it again next time at half price…
Only then did Qiu Yiran somewhat blankly look toward the front. “So that means there’s a high chance we won’t see it today?”
Before they set out, she remembered Fried Egg saying there was a high chance they would see the northern lights today.
But after just a few hours, both the weather and the story had completely changed.
Fried Egg nodded regretfully.
“After all, up until now—”
“We humans can’t guarantee a one hundred percent success rate in chasing the northern lights.”
“Got it.” Qiu Yiran expressed understanding.
She didn’t want to make things hard for Fried Egg, after all, whether they saw it or not was beyond control.
Li Wuhui, however, seemed to have prepared for the northern lights for a long time. Qiu Yiran wondered if she would be disappointed…
She turned her face to look at Li Wuhui—
The other woman didn’t show much disappointment, just nodded as well and said to Fried Egg,
“We can come back later. We still have time anyway.”
Then she looked at her, as if asking, “We still have time, right?”
Qiu Yiran didn’t refute it.
She nodded.
But her heart still felt a bit heavy. In the end, this journey would come to an end sooner or later. She just hoped she could quickly accompany Li Wuhui to see the northern lights, because she didn’t want any more accidents.
“But there’s still a chance today.” Seeing the two of them a bit down, Fried Egg started comforting them again.
Qiu Yiran nodded. “Here’s hoping.”
“Qiu Yiran.” At that moment, Li Wuhui, who had been quiet for a while, suddenly called out to her, as if having made some decision. “Want to make a bet with me?”
Qiu Yiran was stunned.
She looked at Li Wuhui’s slightly tense profile—
After all, the result of their last bet hadn’t been pleasant.
So Li Wuhui was probably conflicted now.
She didn’t want this bet to end up like the last one, but also wanted to be more resolute in achieving her goal.
During this journey, it wasn’t just Qiu Yiran who had gradually become hesitant and lax.
But this was within Qiu Yiran’s expectations.
She stayed silent for a moment, her fingers curling up in her pocket, somewhat nervously asking, “What bet?”
“If we see the northern lights tonight,”
Li Wuhui stared calmly straight ahead at the road, with lights of different colors streaming past her face from outside the car.
She kept her face slightly lowered.
Her eyes seemed to reveal pain, as if it was very hard for her to say these words,
“Then take this camera and snap a photo for me under the northern lights.”
Her voice was so soft it seemed swallowed by the wind.
Qiu Yiran didn’t know what was going on.
Hearing Li Wuhui’s direct request, Qiu Yiran didn’t feel too bad about it.
On the contrary—she felt unusually calm, because several times when Li Wuhui proposed a bet or brought out the camera, she had thought Li Wuhui would make a request like this.
But Li Wuhui hadn’t.
The journey was already halfway done, and Li Wuhui always said—
Qiu Yiran, draw a picture for me.
Qiu Yiran, the birthday gift I’m giving you is this roll of film.
Qiu Yiran, let me take a photo of you.
…
So very cautious, so tentative.
Therefore, when Li Wuhui finally made this request, Qiu Yiran even smiled a little.
She stared at Li Wuhui’s shoes, which she had hastily slipped on without even tying the laces…
Her eyes and nose felt sour as if twisted, her throat choked up for a long time, before she finally managed to say with difficulty,
“Li Wuhui, you’re really something.”
