Chapter 12

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At first, Liang Yuanxing thought when he was told to pull over, it was to get a thick coat, but unexpectedly, he ended up switching vehicles altogether.

The red and blue police lights on the traffic officer’s motorcycle flickered intermittently, while the pale yellow turn signals, headlights, and street lamps were blurred by the fine drizzle, creating a trail of light like a slow shutter effect.

The journey ahead was far more winding than Liang Yuanxing had imagined—take for example the weather forecast stating a temperature range of “10 to 21 degrees.” Though seemingly harmless in words, on a rainy night in Beijing, it felt like a relentless barrage of blades and spears.

Since the police checkpoint allowed only a brief emergency stop, Liang Yuanxing quickly adjusted the seat and steering wheel once settled in the Jeep's driver's seat, buckled up, shifted gears, and drove forward.

Inside the car, the steady rain splattered against the windshield. He gradually merged into traffic; the sky was dark, visibility poor, and cars crowded the road. It was impossible to spot Duan Qingshen on his motorcycle.

Because the vehicle change was sudden, only the driver had switched; their phones, earphones, and walkie-talkies remained untouched.

Liang Yuanxing held the steering wheel and followed the navigation on the car screen, driving onward.

Once the rain began, the southern sixth ring road of Beijing started to jam.

He stepped on the brake, picked up the walkie-talkie, glanced around, found the talk button, and pressed it: “Are you… used to riding this?”

He had originally meant to ask “Are you okay?” but it sounded odd.

The static and confused wind sounds came through: “It’s okay. This bike’s power is strong; a gentle twist in second gear accelerates sharply.”

“Right!” Liang Yuanxing raised his voice. “That’s exactly why I picked it!”

Then, a bit embarrassed, he added, “Sorry to trouble you.”

Duan Qingshen replied, “Thirty is the age to endure hardships.”

“…” Liang Yuanxing was speechless. Why was he still holding onto that?

Duan Qingshen continued, “Endure long enough, and you get full.”

Liang Yuanxing smiled, “Dinner’s on me tonight.”

“Alright.”

That evening, they had hot pot.

Outside the rain fell, while inside the restaurant, the bubbling broth and the steamed mist clinging to the glass windows gave a strong sense of winter. Especially after being chilled outside, the feeling was even more intense.

Duan Qingshen was checking the documents. After parking near the subway entrance, they took the subway because they were only staying two nights. Most of their luggage remained in the car; they only carried one suitcase and photography equipment.

The suitcase held not only the clothes they would wear over the next two days but also many dirty items to be washed at the hotel the following day.

While waiting for the hot pot to boil, Liang Yuanxing anxiously glanced outside and said, “What if it rains during the shoot?”

“Then we shoot the rain,” Duan Qingshen said as he put down his bag. “Shoot whatever comes.”

Liang Yuanxing suddenly understood.

Indeed, to a landscape photographer, there is no such thing as bad weather. Clear skies are scenic, but so are thunder and lightning.

Fortunately, the next day, there was no rain at all. The sky after the rain was unrealistically blue, and the air still seemed filled with the remnants of last night’s drizzle, smelling fresh and cool.

Duan Qingshen slung his camera bag over his shoulder and smiled, “You smell the air wherever you go, like a little dog.”

“Pfft.” Liang Yuanxing frowned. “Never smelled the capital’s scent?”

Just then, the taxi arrived.

According to Jiang Yu’s message on WeChat, their subject in Beijing was the owner and designer of a design studio, with his own independent fashion brand.

After hearing they had arrived, Jiang Yu messaged again to remind them that he was a long-haired man named Chi Shuanghai, so not to be too surprised when they met.

Chi Shuanghai’s studio was in an office building near the East Second Ring Road. His assistant escorted them upstairs, leading through a corridor beside the front desk to Chi Shuanghai’s makeup room.

As Jiang Yu had said, Chi Shuanghai had long black hair. He had just finished makeup, with several assistants adjusting his suit cuffs and the collars of his shirt underneath.

Chi Shuanghai was tall and slender, with a middle part in his hair that reached his waist. His supermodel makeup covered his eyebrows. He wore a cream-colored suit of his own design, leaning towards androgyny, making his gender ambiguous.

Duan Qingshen approached and shook his hand. “Hello, I’m Duan Qingshen, a friend of Jiang Yu. This is my assistant, Liang Yuanxing.”

Chi Shuanghai politely said, “Thank you for your hard work, Boss Duan. I heard you changed plans last minute to come to Beijing? Please have a seat here first and wait a moment.”

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The assistant who had just guided them upstairs came forward, saying, “Let’s go to the studio room first. There’s tea prepared, and Shuangshuang still needs to touch up her hair.”

“Okay, thank you,” Duan Qingshen said, glancing back at Liang Yuanxing.

This place wasn’t just a makeup room—it was also the changing room, so many clothes from their studio were hung here, including numerous pieces that were almost bikini-like... Liang Yuanxing had no idea whether they were meant to be worn inside or outside, so he didn’t dare look around.

He could only watch his boss.

As a result, when Duan Qingshen turned back, he caught Liang Yuanxing’s gaze. Duan Qingshen pursed his lips, suppressing a smile.

The studio was diagonally opposite the makeup room. The assistant led them to the sofa by the coffee table, then returned to help in the makeup room before leaving.

After she left, Liang Yuanxing let out a deep breath.

“So nervous?” Duan Qingshen asked.

“He’s really beautiful,” Liang Yuanxing replied, missing the point. “Like a celebrity. No wonder Jiang Yu’s model choice is so good.”

Duan Qingshen’s eyes flickered with complexity. “Are you indirectly praising yourself?”

“Huh?” Liang Yuanxing tilted his head, then caught on. He thought Duan Qingshen was referring to Jiang Yu’s earlier joke about removing his car tires and locking them in the warehouse. “No, Jiang Yu was joking. Besides, I don’t have Chi Shuanghai’s aura.”

“It’s style. You have a great aura too,” Duan Qingshen corrected him. “But your styles are different. You’re more like a young hero, riding a black horse and wandering the world.”

Liang Yuanxing fell silent. He was still a bit uncomfortable with Duan Qingshen’s compliments, so he chose to keep quiet and let him calm down.

But Duan Qingshen wasn’t done. He asked, “Do you like Chi Shuanghai’s type?”

Liang Yuanxing shook his head, hesitated, then asked back, “What type is he?”

“Well...”

Before he could finish, the studio door opened from outside, and Chi Shuanghai entered with two assistants. Duan Qingshen stopped talking and stood up; Liang Yuanxing followed.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Chi Shuanghai nodded lightly.

His makeup was more refined now, with eyeliner extended, painted with a peach blossom branch, and dotted with a few petals. Duan Qingshen took out his camera and glanced at his assistant.

Liang Yuanxing’s assistant, whether out of loyalty or something else, stared at Duan Qingshen without flinching or lowering his gaze.

Duan Qingshen didn’t engage in a silent battle of glances. He was about to shoot; Chi Shuanghai was already standing in front of the white backdrop.

“Yuanxing, come set the lights.”

“Okay!”

During the shoot, Duan Qingshen understood why Chi Shuanghai wasn’t bothered when he said he wasn’t good at portraiture.

Chi Shuanghai was a professional model, needing no direction on posing. What he needed was someone who understood lighting, could set it up, and control the fans.

Music played softly in the studio. Chi Shuanghai knew which angles suited him best but never forgot the focus was to sell the clothes. When showing the back, because of his long hair, he asked an assistant for a hairpin.

However, Chi Shuanghai was not very skilled at handling it. After turning twice, a lock of hair still hung loose.

Liang Yuanxing stood under the lights, very close, and instinctively stepped forward: “Let me help you.”

His younger sister often made hairpins and hair accessories at home. Curious about how she could twist two chopsticks to secure hair so neatly, he had learned a bit.

Unexpectedly, Chi Shuanghai’s expression suddenly changed, and he said coldly, “No need, don’t touch me.”

At the same time, he moved aside just enough to keep Liang Yuanxing a step away. The disdain was almost palpable. Liang Yuanxing froze awkwardly.

He didn’t know what to say — to explain he meant no harm? He just wanted to tuck in the loose hair.

The assistants busied themselves with messages or organizing accessories during the shoot.

For a moment, only the music filled the studio—a lazy, casual tune, completely out of sync with the tense atmosphere.

“Sorry, Boss Chi,” Duan Qingshen said calmly, holding the camera. “Yuanxing didn’t mean anything. You might as well let your hair down; pinning it up causes a small shadow.”

Liang Yuanxing hurriedly added a quiet “Sorry,” unsure if Chi Shuanghai heard.

“Okay.” Chi Shuanghai quickly adjusted, handed the hairpin back to an assistant, and resumed shooting.

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After changing and shooting several outfits, the sky outside had darkened. Since all negatives were handed over, Duan Qingshen gave the memory card to Chi Shuanghai’s assistant: “Please transfer everything and then clear the card. We’ll head out to shoot the night scenes.”

Duan Qingshen remained polite, but when Chi Shuanghai apologized and invited everyone for dinner, Duan Qingshen declined with a smile.

“Thanks, but I’m a bit socially anxious. I’ll just eat with my assistant.” He went straight to grab his coat, leaving no room for discussion. “We’ll be back in about an hour and a half.”

This year, autumn arrived early in Beijing. Pedestrians on the sidewalks complained, “Last year at this time, we could still wear skirts.”

Liang Yuanxing stuffed his hands into his pockets, shivering and pulling his neck into his coat. “You’re not really socially anxious. You just don’t want to eat with them.”

“Where do you see that I’m not socially anxious?” Duan Qingshen said, handing him the coat that had been draped over his arm. “Put it on.”

Liang Yuanxing shook his head. “I’m not cold.”

He added, “Come on, no socially anxious person would lie down on a bed the second time they meet someone.”

“Hey, you...” Duan Qingshen laughed helplessly, then backtracked. “Put it on. We still have a bit to walk.”

“But then you’ll be cold.” Liang Yuanxing frowned, still with hands in pockets. “You’re just wearing a T-shirt.”

“I’m thirty—this is the age to endure the cold.”

Liang Yuanxing was speechless. “Does that ever change?”

“It will. Wait until I’m thirty-one.”

“...” Liang Yuanxing rolled his eyes but smiled.

“All right, behave,” Duan Qingshen said. “Put it on, and I won’t say anything else.”

Liang Yuanxing stretched out his hands and put on the coat. The size was large, but it wrapped perfectly around his sweatshirt.

“Zip it up,” Duan Qingshen said.

“I’m zipping it,” Liang Yuanxing replied.

They headed towards a pizza place, close enough to walk without needing a taxi, though it was still a decent walk.

At a red light, Duan Qingshen said, “That Boss Chi, he probably just had an instinctive reaction.”

“What?” Liang Yuanxing looked over. “Oh, that. It’s fine. I probably made him uncomfortable.”

He still felt a bit guilty and regretted it.

“No,” Duan Qingshen said. “That was a reflex. He’s probably very resistant to unfamiliar physical contact. You don’t need to worry about it.”

There might be unpleasant memories triggering his stress response, but Duan Qingshen didn’t speculate further.

Liang Yuanxing nodded. “Okay.”

He understood what Duan Qingshen meant. In a big city like Beijing, especially with night shooting ahead, it was easier to just deal with the other person.

Duan Qingshen was unhappy with Chi Shuanghai’s attitude, but after all, neither he nor Chi was really at fault.

No ill intent on Liang Yuanxing’s part, and Chi’s instinctive resistance—it was a small matter easily laughed off.

But if they had to eat together, Liang Yuanxing surely wouldn’t feel comfortable, so Duan Qingshen chose to protect him with unfounded partiality.

Thinking of this, Liang Yuanxing tilted his head, smiled at him, and stepped closer, bumping his arm lightly without purpose.

Duan Qingshen wanted to pat his head but stopped when his hand reached his shoulder, instead adjusting the coat’s shoulder line, which had shifted back, pulling it forward.

“Your clothes are too big,” Liang Yuanxing said. “I thought we were about the same size, but yours are a bit bigger.”

“Yeah.” Duan Qingshen nodded, taller by about five centimeters. “Dinner’s on me tonight. Growing taller.”

The light turned green, and they continued walking forward.