Li Wuhui had stopped in place, as if afraid to approach and disturb her.
Li Wuhui seemed unaware of what had just happened, standing there in the cold lonely night like a drenched fog person, somewhat at a loss as she gazed at her—
As if she’d never been in front of a lens her whole life, extremely shy and stiff like a wooden puppet.
She stood there, lips parting, but said nothing, just looking at Qiu Yiran so eagerly.
As if seeking confirmation, yet afraid to confirm.
Perhaps the beauty of a film camera was this: no way to see the result right away.
Thus, Qiu Yiran wouldn’t form any ideas from it. She simply smiled at the motionless Li Wuhui.
Then she raised the camera again.
Their guide Fried Egg didn’t eagerly crowd in for a group shot. Probably hearing there was a photographer among them, she assumed they were working, so she considerately stepped back.
Even reminded Li Wuhui from the side, “Ms. Spring, give a smile.”
Thus, the internationally renowned supermodel Ms. Spring squeezed out a very stiff smile in the lens of Qiu Yiran, who could hardly be called a photographer—
If it got out, she’d probably be said to have lost her professional edge.
Fried Egg even asked worriedly from the side, “Ms. Spring, why does your smile look like you’re crying?”
Hearing this.
Qiu Yiran also wondered why Li Wuhui’s eyes had suddenly turned so red. Worried, she lowered the camera and wanted to get out and walk over—snapping photos at someone when their expression soured was terribly rude.
But Li Wuhui suddenly spoke up,
“Stay right there.”
Her voice sounded like a command.
Qiu Yiran instinctively froze all movement, looking at Li Wuhui somewhat anxiously.
“I’m not crying, just a bit uncomfortable.”
Li Wuhui turned her face away.
She raised the back of her hand to wipe her eye corner, then explained to them with reddened eyes,
“It just rained, and a drop got in my eye. I rubbed it.”
Fried Egg went “oh oh.”
Qiu Yiran pursed her lips, standing by the car with the camera in hand, at a loss.
“That last one wasn’t good.”
At that moment.
Li Wuhui swiftly issued a program command to the robot Qiu Yiran.
“Take one more.”
As if afraid that Qiu Yiran would suddenly run off.
With that—
Li Wuhui quickly composed her emotions and the discomfort from the rain hitting her eyes.
She flashed a very standardized smile toward this side.
Qiu Yiran slowly raised the camera.
Her eyes gradually drew near the viewfinder, yet she still hadn’t pressed the shutter.
“What’s wrong?” Li Wuhui asked her from within the lens, her tone sounding tense.
“Is something off?”
Qiu Yiran didn’t get a chance to speak.
But Li Wuhui pursed her lips again. After a few seconds, she spoke on her own. “Should I step back a bit? Or come closer?”
As she spoke, she paced back and forth within the range of the headlights. “That previous spot?”
Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she halted her steps. She first glanced at the lens, then deliberately looked away. She exhaled a puff of white breath and asked hesitantly, “Or should I not look at you?”
Her words came out fast.
To the point that they sounded urgent. She even overturned herself before Qiu Yiran could respond.
Fried Egg scratched her brow in confusion nearby. She had thought that supermodels should be at ease facing so many lenses usually, but for some reason, Ms. Spring seemed especially tense.
Qiu Yiran didn’t speak right away.
She stared at Li Wuhui in the viewfinder, her nose and mouth uncontrollably souring—
The other woman was now tilting her face away, deliberately avoiding her gaze. Though her smile was standardized, a closer look revealed that her mouth and jaw were clenched tight.
Qiu Yiran had watched videos of Li Wuhui’s debut show. Even back then, Li Wuhui hadn’t been this tense.
“Qiu Yiran.”
Probably because she had been silent too long, Li Wuhui finally couldn’t hold back and urged her.
“Say something.”
But it was as if she feared startling her, so her voice was kept very low.
After those two words.
She pursed her lips again. Finally, as if conceding defeat, she softened her voice a bit. “Forget it. Take your time. No need to rush.”
“Li Wuhui.” Qiu Yiran finally spoke.
“Hm?” Li Wuhui slightly lifted her chin but still didn’t look at her.
Qiu Yiran lowered her head and wiped at her somewhat damp eye corner. “When you can’t smile, you don’t have to force it.”
Those words left Li Wuhui silent for a long time.
About two minutes.
She made no sound, no movement—like a person frozen in the snowy wasteland.
After two minutes passed.
Li Wuhui suddenly let out a very soft, faint laugh. Then she lowered her face, dodging Qiu Yiran’s lens.
When she raised her face again—
She looked straight into the lens.
Her mouth was level, no longer smiling.
Her facial muscles held a natural, slightly disheveled state. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and the tip of her nose was flushed red from the damp cold air.
Just like that, very ordinarily, through the lens.
She directly and steadily captured Qiu Yiran’s gaze, then softly said,
“Got it.”
Click.
The third photo of the night was set.
–
On the way back, the car was unusually quiet. Perhaps because they hadn’t seen the Northern Lights and everyone was worn out.
Or maybe because Qiu Yiran had just picked up the camera and was now very afraid of being questioned. And Li Wuhui, having witnessed it all firsthand, still hadn’t recovered. So no one brought up the just-completed shoot.
Until the vehicle re-entered the city district and neared their hotel, when the road became impassable due to a minor car accident.
Waiting in the car who knew how long—this close distance might as well be walked.
After discussing, they decided to walk back.
Fried Egg didn’t stand on ceremony with them. She just emphasized very solemnly once more before they got out.
“I’m really sorry about today.”
“In a few days when the weather clears, I’ll contact you again. You can join my group for free.”
Missing the Northern Lights tonight was indeed a regret. But such things couldn’t be forced, after all.
So they simply expressed their understanding toward Fried Egg and got out on the roadside.
No more rain fell in the city district, but the moment they stepped out, the damp cold air hit them head-on, stinging their faces.
A traffic accident had just occurred here, so there were plenty of people and cars. The hotel was about one street away—not far, just…
After walking a short distance.
Qiu Yiran subtly frowned—probably because the shoes she’d tried on for so long still weren’t quite right. Walking outside tonight had rubbed her residual limb until it ached again.
At first, the pain was mild, so she didn’t pay it much mind.
But after walking a segment post-alighting.
She felt the pain intensifying with each step, grinding against the skin of her residual limb.
The chafing grew heavier and heavier.
She could only repeatedly adjust her gait, but it barely improved.
Qiu Yiran’s complexion worsened.
Finally, her left foot landed lighter and lighter, her walk turning into a silent limp.
She had thought Li Wuhui was lost in thought and wouldn’t notice her condition.
But at the corner, Li Wuhui suddenly crouched silently in front of her.
Qiu Yiran halted her steps.
She looked puzzled at the woman’s slightly bent back before her and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Get on.” Li Wuhui kept her head lowered and said concisely, “I’ll carry you.”
“No need.” Not expecting Li Wuhui to notice her issue after all, Qiu Yiran hurriedly explained, “The hotel’s just a few steps away. I can walk back and apply a hot compress.”
With that—
She circled around the crouching Li Wuhui and urged, “Get up quick.”
To get Li Wuhui to stand faster, Qiu Yiran even quickened her pace a few steps ahead.
But as soon as Li Wuhui stood.
She took several large strides to block Qiu Yiran’s path again, stopping her. “The hotel’s still a few hundred meters away. Don’t push yourself, or you’ll end up delaying the main thing.”
She knew her weak spot well, using what Qiu Yiran cared about most as leverage.
And successfully silenced Qiu Yiran.
She said nothing.
Li Wuhui stared at her for a moment.
“Qiu Yiran, sometimes letting me help you won’t cost you a pound of flesh.”
“That’s not what I mean.” Qiu Yiran tried to retort.
“Then what is it?” Li Wuhui countered.
But without waiting for an answer, she patiently crouched before her again, her shadow on the ground shrinking into a huddle. “Don’t overthink it. I just want to do something for you.”
Qiu Yiran didn’t understand her words. “Why do you want to do something for me?”
“Didn’t you do something amazing today?” Li Wuhui said with her back turned, her laughter hidden in the wind. “That’s totally worth a reward.”
How was this anything needing a reward? Qiu Yiran pursed her lips. “Does this even count as amazing?”
“Yeah, very amazing, so it needs a reward.” Li Wuhui replied naturally, as if it were an indisputable fact.
Then she urged softly, “Hurry up. It’s going to rain soon. Don’t deliberately waste time here.”
Urged by Li Wuhui.
Qiu Yiran glanced at the surrounding people whose gazes lingered because of them, then at the very firm, non-negotiable Li Wuhui. With no other choice—
She carefully climbed onto Li Wuhui’s back.
In that instant, she held her breath.
Afraid her breathing would add unnecessary weight to Li Wuhui.
Actually, since both their clothes were thick, this couldn’t count as any intimate contact.
At most, it was just—
Kindhearted Li Wuhui showing friendly care toward the disabled Qiu Yiran.
After climbing on, Qiu Yiran’s face stiffened as she kept low near Li Wuhui’s shoulder, not daring to get too close.
Despite trying hard to maintain distance.
She still watched helplessly as her hair accidentally draped to Li Wuhui’s ear.
In a flash—
She tensely reached to retrieve her hair, but her fingers accidentally brushed Li Wuhui’s ear.
