“Sang Ning, is that all?”
Sang Ning set down the heavy cardboard box in her hands and turned to face Yu Shuang, watching her lips. “What did you say?”
Yu Shuang: “Is that all? Nothing else?”
Sang Ning nodded. “Just these.”
Moving was exhausting, but thankfully Yu Shuang was there to help.
Yu Shuang looked around. “You really don’t have much stuff.”
Sang Ning didn’t own many things, and quite a bit of what she did have was photography equipment—a true minimalist style.
Early June in Birch City wasn’t too hot, but after all the hustle, sweat still beaded on their skin. Sang Ning washed her hands clean and deftly gathered her long hair into a bun, cooling her neck considerably.
The new apartment was in a great location, with subway and mall access nearby. Most importantly, it was close to the studio, cutting her commute time in half compared to before.
Yu Shuang sat on the sofa, enjoying the air conditioning as she surveyed the room. It wasn’t big, but it was cozy—a perfect little nest for one person.
Sang Ning handed her a can of iced cola. “Thanks for the hard work.”
“This is nothing.” Yu Shuang cracked open the can and took a big gulp. “Last time you helped me move—that was hard work. I had at least twice as much stuff as you.”
Sang Ning took a few sips of her drink to quench her thirst, then let Yu Shuang rest while she started tidying up the room.
Yu Shuang admired her. “Aren’t you going to take a break?”
Sang Ning: “It’s too messy.”
“Fine, you tidy up.” Yu Shuang knew Sang Ning liked everything neat and orderly—unlike herself, who could tolerate a pigsty.
A photo album sat on the coffee table. Yu Shuang picked it up casually. “Can I take a look?”
Sang Ning glanced back. “Go ahead.”
“Anyway, you don’t have any secrets.” Yu Shuang laughed. Sang Ning was as simple as a blank sheet of paper.
Sang Ning smiled innocently. Who would leave their secrets out in the open like that?
Most of the photos were ones Sang Ning had taken in university, mainly landscapes and still lifes. She had gotten into photography through a campus club and never imagined it would become her profession.
She had studied in Birch City and stayed after graduation, working her way up from photography assistant to independent photographer.
She had met Yu Shuang during her internship days. Sang Ning’s social circle was small, and Yu Shuang was both her work partner and close friend.
Yu Shuang flipped through casually until she came across a high school group photo, piquing her curiosity.
“Let me find which little beauty is you.” Yu Shuang scanned row by row, studying intently for two passes. None looked like her. “You’re not in here, are you?”
Sang Ning said, “I am.”
Yu Shuang searched again, guessing two wrong ones, but still couldn’t find her. Finally, she compromised, pulling out the photo to check the name on the back and matching it up.
Half a minute later.
“Damn.” Yu Shuang’s eyes widened as she pointed to a skinny girl in the back row corner, almost invisible. “This is you?!”
“Yeah.” In high school, Sang Ning had shoulder-length short hair that covered her ears completely, her expression gloomy as if shrouded in a dark cloud.
“Did you get reborn or something?” Yu Shuang looked from the real Sang Ning to the photo, head dipping and rising several times. “University really is a magic makeover factory.”
Sang Ning smiled lightly, unperturbed. She wasn’t surprised by Yu Shuang’s reaction—her transformation had been dramatic. Time always pushed people to grow; no one stayed stagnant forever.
The only thing that hadn’t changed was the hearing aid on her ear. She had a hearing impairment: her right ear retained some hearing, but her left was almost completely deaf. She couldn’t get by without the hearing aid in daily life.
It was the rainy season in the south, with continuous drizzles making the air humid and sticky.
After the move, Sang Ning was swamped for several days straight.
Unlike the gloomy restlessness outside, the studio was bright and quiet, occasionally punctuated by the shutter click.
Sang Ning loved the sound of the shutter—crisp and decisive, somehow calming her mind.
She spent three hours in the studio, fiddling with various fill lights and fine-tuning the lighting setup. The process was tedious and monotonous, but she enjoyed it, all for that perfect shot.
Yu Shuang said she was too obsessive at work; clients might not even notice the difference.
Sang Ning understood, but she had her principles.
Last year, she had quit the company and rented this studio with Yu Shuang. They had worked at a 4A ad agency for years, building up skills, connections, and confidence before going independent.
The studio was small, with a dedicated darkroom, and the office and reception areas combined.
It wasn’t until evening that Sang Ning emerged from the studio.
Yu Shuang had also had a tiring day and was slumped in a chair, chugging lemon tea to cool off. “I don’t want to do this crap shift anymore. I want a long vacation. I want to go traveling.”
Sang Ning sat at the desk, transferring the day’s photos to the computer, quietly listening to Yu Shuang’s complaints.
The lemon tea didn’t help much; Yu Shuang kept grumbling. “Optimize, optimize, optimize—endless bullshit. Must’ve been a murderer in my past life; now I’m the client’s bitch, tortured every day.”
Sang Ning glanced at Yu Shuang’s comical expression and found it amusing. She knew Yu Shuang complained but never slacked on work. Now that they worked for themselves, it was easier to stay balanced.
After Yu Shuang’s solo rant, she changed tack. “Sang Ning, don’t you ever get pissed off?” She handled overtime calmly, dealt with nightmare clients calmly, and Sang Ning never even vented.
“I’ve dealt with all kinds of clients.” Sang Ning kept staring at the screen, saying it matter-of-factly. “You get used to it.”
Even so, Yu Shuang sighed in admiration. “I respect everyone else zero, but you? You’re a pro at enduring.”
Sang Ning brushed it off with a smile. She had grown accustomed from childhood to the world’s lack of gentleness; she excelled at endurance and self-adjustment. Top-notch stress tolerance.
After wrapping up work, Yu Shuang suggested a nice dinner to treat themselves.
Sang Ning stretched her neck and agreed.
The rain had finally stopped.
Sang Ning breathed in the fresh outdoor air to decompress. The tree-lined path, washed by the rains, looked even greener.
In another half month, summer heat would arrive.
They headed to the mall next to the studio—a few minutes’ walk. Both starving, they faced a sea of restaurant options without hesitation and picked one without a line.
They had just ordered when Yu Shuang asked, “Any plans for your days off?”
The place was noisy; Sang Ning focused on her lips. “Same as always.”
“Street photography, running, volunteer work?” Yu Shuang listed them off.
“You know all that and still ask.” Yu Shuang’s summary made Sang Ning realize how bland her life was. But simplicity wasn’t bad; she preferred peace and quiet.
“Almost forgot,” Yu Shuang smacked her forehead. “A friend of mine wants your contact info. Should I give it to her?”
Sang Ning asked, “Work-related?”
“I’m guessing,” Yu Shuang drawled, “personal.”
Sang Ning got it and didn’t hesitate. “Pass.”
Yu Shuang: “She’s a nice girl, good personality.”
Sang Ning liked women too. Yu Shuang had learned this at a party playing “I have, you don’t.” She had been surprised—Sang Ning seemed so straight, never showing interest in women.
No matter what Yu Shuang said, Sang Ning remained unmoved. Perfect timing as the server brought the food; she seized the chance to change the subject. “Aren’t you hungry? Let’s eat.”
Her voice was clear and gentle, unhurried, matching her outward vibe.
Yu Shuang gazed at her. Sometimes God had a conscience—close one door, open a window. Sang Ning’s eyes were beautiful, crinkling nicely when she smiled. Back when they met, Yu Shuang thought she’d found a sweet girl.
But prolonged contact revealed Sang Ning wasn’t sweet at all—too detached, with a sense of distance. She cared about few people or things, inhabiting her own world while filtering out the rest.
“You might as well marry your camera.” Yu Shuang teased over dinner. That was Sang Ning’s true love; she shot all day at work and more in her free time.
Sang Ning: “That works too.”
Yu Shuang: “…”
They got lucky that night; the random dishes were all hits. With time to spare after eating, they wandered the mall.
It had been a while since their last visit; some brands had changed, but nothing exciting. Mainly, walking off the meal.
They meandered from top floor to bottom.
Sang Ning saw a new WeChat message from a client and replied quickly.
Yu Shuang glanced around. “Another new coffee shop. Rich people everywhere.”
Opening coffee shops was trendy these days—flash in the pan, opening fast and closing faster. Only the well-off could afford it.
“Wonder if it’ll last six months.” Yu Shuang said, “Nice aesthetic, though. Let’s check it out.”
Sang Ning murmured “mm,” following Yu Shuang inside.
Yu Shuang pushed open the glass door.
Few customers; it was quiet.
A woman stood by the water bar, long hair to her back, figure and profile stunning. She leaned slightly on the counter, head down reading a magazine, oblivious to their entrance.
Yu Shuang stared for a bit, then whispered to Sang Ning, “I think this place will last at least six months.”
Sang Ning, eyes on her phone, replied casually, “Why?”
Yu Shuang’s answer was blunt: “Because the owner’s a total beauty.”
Sang Ning chuckled at the logic but didn’t respond, still typing a serious reply to the client.
“For real.” Yu Shuang nudged her arm. “Look, look—she’s got such presence.”
Sang Ning hadn’t hit send yet. Urged by Yu Shuang, she glanced over perfunctorily—then her drifting gaze locked in place.
She blanked out for a second, thinking exhaustion had made her hallucinate…
But under the soft, warm light, that figure was unmistakably one she knew intimately from the past.
Sang Ning zoned out; the background blurred briefly.
Yu Shuang muttered softly, “Right?”
Sang Ning didn’t catch it, nor did she notice the unsent message. Her usual calm surged with sudden waves; her heart raced noticeably.
No time to buffer—Yu Shuang tugged her forward.
Footsteps approached.
The woman at the counter looked up from her magazine, features refined and worth a closer look.
Seeing her face clearly, Sang Ning felt like she was dreaming; only she knew the panic beneath her composed exterior. Nowhere to rest her eyes, but they were too close now—gazes inevitably met.
Shen Tingwan regarded the approaching pair with a mild smile, then her gaze shifted to a fair, delicate face and paused quietly.
Sang Ning skimmed past the polite smile, her hanging hand tightening secretly on her phone. She probably doesn’t remember me. It’s been years.
After the eye contact, nothing happened.
As expected, she didn’t remember.
Sang Ning gave a wry internal smile.
“Hello, ready to order?” Yu Shuang broke the silence. She had only meant to browse, but the beautiful owner sparked her spending mood.
“Sorry, we’re not open for business yet.”
Another woman approached from the back; Sang Ning looked over—no recognition.
Yu Shuang, awkward: “Oh.”
“No worries, feel free to look around. Here, two coupons for you—come support us when we open.” The woman smiled warmly, then turned to murmur to her companion, “Grab two coupons for me.”
Yu Shuang nodded eagerly. “Sure, we’ll definitely come.”
Sang Ning waited aside, scrolling her phone aimlessly.
Moments later, a slender hand entered her view, carrying a faint elegant fragrance from her wrist.
Sang Ning’s gaze froze. The coupon extended toward her. She looked up, eyes meeting the woman’s again.
Shen Tingwan watched her quietly, waiting for her to take it.
Sang Ning managed a polite smile, reaching out nonchalantly. As she opened her mouth for “thanks,” her voice caught.
Through the thin card, her hand was “held.”
The gentle tug made Sang Ning stiffen slightly. The other woman didn’t let go—it felt deliberate.
“Long time no see.”
Huh? Not just her hand—Sang Ning froze entirely.
Shen Tingwan looked into her eyes and smiled helplessly. “Don’t you remember me?”
