Chapter 17

“The next shoot is set for next Monday. Everyone use these few days to prepare.”

“For the footage from the first shoot and the clips edited a couple of days ago, go through them once more.”

“Also, there were some news reports on related topics online over the past two years. Familiarize yourselves with them.”

Jiang Min tapped the table lightly. “Nothing can go wrong with this shoot. Everyone, get up to speed as soon as possible.”

Someone spoke up hesitantly:

“Last time we filmed for ages and they only talked about this and that, then walked off halfway through. Will they cooperate this time?”

“Lin Xuqing got bitten last time we went. Are there safety concerns for us this time?”

Jiang Min leaned back in her chair, her gaze mild. “First question: the time and place of the shoot have already been confirmed with them.”

Over these two days, You Hui had gone to the Faraway BBQ Shop to see Sister Song and confirmed it repeatedly—since Zhang Heqiao refused to contact them directly, all messages went through Sister Song.

“Second question.”

Jiang Min’s voice turned cold as she looked at the questioner. “As this team’s leader, I don’t joke about anyone’s safety. Rest assured—if anything unexpected happens, I will be the one standing in front.”

The questioner exchanged a glance with Jian Ming and lowered their head.

“My injury last time was my own carelessness. Pure accident.”

Just then, the meeting room door was pulled open, and Lin Xuqing stood at the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt, everyone.”

“Lin Xuqing? What are you doing here?”

Jiang Min instinctively started to rise, then decided it wasn’t quite appropriate and stayed seated.

“We’re discussing the next shoot today—I couldn’t be absent,” Lin Xuqing said, walking in. Unable to put weight on her left leg, she moved extremely slowly. “I’m late.”

Mi Wei happened to be seated by the door; she hurriedly stood to support her, pulling out a chair for her to sit.

Jian Ming watched coldly and snorted. “Photographer Lin certainly works hard. There are no outsiders here—anyone who didn’t know better would think you were putting on a sympathy act.”

Jiang Min’s face darkened at once. “Jian Ming. Watch your words.”

“Lin Xuqing was injured on the job. You, as head of the filming team, skipped an important shoot citing a headache and feeling unwell—and now you’re spreading snide remarks?”

Her expression was icy, her tone severe. Everyone with eyes knew the two didn’t get along, but this was the first time she’d blown up at Jian Ming in public.

The air froze; every gaze converged on the two of them.

After a tense standoff, Jian Ming, in the wrong from the start, could only say reluctantly, “Sorry. That’s not what I meant. I misspoke.”

Jiang Min said nothing, regarding him coldly.

Once the atmosphere eased slightly, Jiang Xuezi continued going over the points of caution with everyone.

For the rest of the meeting, Jiang Min said nothing more, only coldly announcing adjournment at the end.

Once everyone had left and Jiang Xuezi had gathered the meeting materials: “Once Jian Ming decides Little Lin is ‘your person,’ he’ll bully her even more.”

Jiang Min gave a cold laugh. “Let him try.”

“Who knows if he’ll only get worse from here.”

“Once this shoot is done, I’ll go to Jian Yanping.”

“All right, let’s talk after the New Year. It’s Friday—no overtime today.”

“Let’s go.”

It was already past six. By the time Jiang Min packed her bag and came down, most people had left.

Mi Wei stood beside Lin Xuqing’s desk, chattering away nonstop. “Then how will you get home later? Want me to take you?”

Lin Xuqing shook her head. “No need. I’ll just take a cab.”

“But you still have to walk all the way out to the park gate.”

“It’s fine. I’ll just walk slowly.”

“Then what about dinner?”

“I’ll grab something.”

“Then…”

Mi Wei gazed at her with a doting, pitying look again.

Good grief, what era is this—how is there still a workhorse like this, limping into the office? Sister Little Lin is just too good.

Lin Xuqing felt a headache coming on.

Jiang Xuezi couldn’t help laughing. “Mi Wei, why not share tonight’s shaobing with Little Lin?”

There was a shaobing shop nearby that only offered group-buy deals Friday through Sunday; Mi Wei was a regular and never missed a Friday.

She gritted her teeth. “Then I’ll give Sister Little Lin half—no, a whole shaobing!”

Jiang Min laughed too. “How generous of you today. You’ve never shared one with me.”

Mi Wei turned, saw her, and looked a bit sheepish. “Senior Sister…”

Jiang Xuezi pulled Mi Wei along. “Come on, or the shaobing will sell out.”

Mi Wei looked back every step or two. “But Sister Little Lin…”

“Don’t worry.”

Once the two had walked off laughing, Lin Xuqing heaved a sigh of relief. “Finally gone.”

People who were overly enthusiastic always left her at a loss for how to fend them off.

“And you? Leaving now?”

“Mm, just about to.”

Watching her tidy her desk, Jiang Min asked casually, “Didn’t I tell you to heal up before coming back?”

“I was home a few days and bored stiff. I want to take part in next week’s shoot.”

“You’re sure you want to go?”

“I need to be there. Otherwise they might not be willing to talk.”

Jiang Min was resigned. “Fine. Workaholic. What can I do with you.”

Lin Xuqing stood. “And you?”

And wasn’t she just the same?

A heart thrown entirely into work.

“Fine. Can’t out-argue you.”

Jiang Min had to admit that, on some level, when it came to work, she and Lin Xuqing were alike.

“Has your leg still been hurting these past two days?”

“It’s okay. Just a little.”

“Will you manage? Shall I lend you a hand?” As she spoke, Jiang Min extended her hand, waiting for Lin Xuqing to place hers on it.

Lin Xuqing thought for a moment, then shook her head.

“Why?”

“It feels a bit like the Empress Dowager and her eunuch on TV.”

“…”

Jiang Min: “Lin Xuqing, you’re asking for a beating, aren’t you?”

Lin Xuqing smiled. “I am.”

Jiang Min laughed too. “Fine, fine, fine. Then walk slowly, Your Majesty the Empress Dowager. I shall never presume to assist.”

Lin Xuqing went out first; Jiang Min turned off the lights and closed the door.

Between them hung a distance neither near nor far. Lin Xuqing walked slowly, but Jiang Min walked even slower, trailing two steps behind.

Lin Xuqing glanced back at her several times before finally saying, “Walk in front of me.”

Jiang Min: “No need.”

Lin Xuqing felt deeply awkward.

The one whose gaze was always chasing someone else’s back couldn’t see it now. She wasn’t used to it at all.

Hearing that, Lin Xuqing could only slow down further.

But Jiang Min wasn’t the least bit hurried, simply refusing to walk ahead, keeping an unhurried two or three steps behind her.

Lin Xuqing looked back at her many times, her delicate brows slightly knitted, as if a little angry.

Only then did Jiang Min laugh. “All right. I’ve always walked fast. If I’m in front, I can’t keep an eye on you.”

If she walked in front and Lin Xuqing fell, she wouldn’t even see it.

“I was only bitten. It’s not a fracture.”

“Fine, fine, fine—from now on you can always walk behind me.” Jiang Min flagged down a taxi for her, and once she was seated, closed the door for her.

Lin Xuqing waved. “Bye-bye.”

Jiang Min stood where she was, watching the taxi merge into traffic.

Remembering how Lin Xuqing had looked a little angry just now, she shook her head, smiling.

She’d known full well Photographer Lin would get angry, yet hadn’t said so earlier.

Perhaps she rather liked teasing Lin Xuqing.

Monday. The sunshine was warm and clear.

On a weekday afternoon, the park wasn’t crowded. That the shoot was set here was also Zhang Heqiao’s request.

The pavilion in the park had wooden tables and benches; fortunately it was a sunny day, so it wasn’t too cold.

Jiang Min arrived early with the team, equipment ready.

At three in the afternoon, Zhang Heqiao appeared punctually, leading his dog.

Because of last time, the others were still shaken and didn’t dare approach.

But Lin Xuqing wasn’t the least bit concerned. She stepped forward. “Is Little Guai’s leg healed?”

“Healed. How’s your recovery?”

“Fine. The wound’s mostly healed. Just two more shots to go.”

The equipment was ready. Jiang Min asked, “Can we begin?”

Zhang Heqiao nodded, then lifted his eyelids. “Miss Jiang—I’ll only talk with you and Miss Lin. The rest are excused.”

Ning Rou, holding the prepared interview questions, stood to one side, rather awkward.

“It’s all right—go on back,” Jiang Min said, drawing Ning Rou aside and comforting her in a softened voice. “We’ll keep good records on our end.”

She’d never had much patience to begin with; what little remained was probably all reserved for Ning Rou.

Ning Rou nodded silently.

Lin Xuqing helped her pack up the equipment. Before leaving, Ning Rou added one more instruction: “Little Lin, watch out for anything unexpected. Don’t let Sister A-Min get hurt.”

Lin Xuqing didn’t answer.

Jiang Min heard it too and frowned slightly.

Once the Magazine Office people had gone, Zhang Heqiao finally nodded and agreed to begin. “I’ll tell it myself. When I’m done, ask whatever you want.”

“I’m forty-six this year. From Yongzhou—same hometown as Sister Song, that’s why we’re so close. Twenty years ago I came to Mingchuan to start a business.”

“As for the result—you’ve seen it. I’m a failure.”

“That year, my wife was sick, back in our hometown. She called me, but I was out sourcing goods and missed the call. I never saw her one last time. At year’s end, the business money was made off with by my partner, a fellow townsman. Afterward, I didn’t want to go home, and my relationship with my parents soured. Later, they passed away.”

“I like it under the bridge—it’s not as noisy as the roadside, not full of comings and goings like the park. It’s safe. It’s independent. That bridge pier is a space that belongs entirely to me.”

“As for going home… I don’t have a home.”

“Maybe a person drifts wherever they are. Drifting between heaven and earth.”

As he told his story, Jiang Min rarely asked questions or offered judgments, only adding a few words to pin down key details—asking him to record the specifics of his early business days, asking about the jacket he’d fished out of the trash by the river, asking when he’d gotten the dog.

By the time filming wrapped, it was four in the afternoon.

The sunlight was still warm.

The other colleagues packed up the equipment and headed down first.

Jiang Min chatted with Zhang Heqiao, agreeing on the place and time for the next shoot.

Before leaving, Zhang Heqiao pulled out a crumpled kraft-paper envelope and handed it to Lin Xuqing.

Lin Xuqing didn’t react at first. “This is…?”

The man in the tattered coat seemed embarrassed to bring it up. “Um. The medical fees.”

The envelope was thick, filled with odds and ends—five- and ten-yuan notes, and some coins.

Who knew how long he’d saved it up.

“See if it’s enough? If not, I…”

Lin Xuqing didn’t answer. Instead she turned and dug a red dog coat out of her bag. “Almost forgot—put this on Little Guai. New Year’s is coming; dogs need new clothes too. It’s so cold under the bridge, and this way the wound won’t drag in dirt and fester.”

Zhang Heqiao took it, stunned, words rising and dying on his lips. In the end he stayed silent and dressed the injured dog in the coat.

Lin Xuqing bent down slightly, stroked the big dog’s head, and slipped the envelope back into the little pocket on the red coat. “Little Guai—New Year’s money, a little early.”

Her expression was serene, her gaze sincere. Sunlight lit her profile, gentle and calm.

The man froze, not daring to raise his head.

But his shoulders began, uncontrollably, to tremble softly.

Sunlight poured down.

Jiang Min watched her there in the sunlight, and her own heart warmed.