Chapter 5

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Liang Yuanxing’s eyes flickered away for a moment... He was often complimented on his looks, and people around him called him “little handsome” or the like. But he never took it seriously; it was just polite flattery.

Hearing Duan Qingshen say that, his face flushed slightly. He quickly stepped out of the restaurant. The coastal city’s evening wind nearly flipped his motorcycle, let alone the warmth on his face.

Duan Qingshen shared the hotel address with him via WeChat. Although the peak travel period after National Day had passed, the coastal city was never short of tourists. The roads were busy, so to avoid losing sight of the lead vehicle, Liang Yuanxing adjusted the navigation and said “OK” over the walkie-talkie.

After a full meal, they rode along the coastline in the cool breeze. Nighttime convoy riding was the most comfortable way to drive; just follow the lead vehicle. Wherever it went, he followed: straight, turns, slowing, stopping, even speed limits didn’t matter since Duan Qingshen’s speed remained below the limit.

The hotel was in the city center. Duan Qingshen led him around motorcycle-restricted zones and arrived after about half an hour. Using the excuse “could you help me out,” Duan Qingshen got the hotel to waive Liang Yuanxing’s fee, which made him feel a bit embarrassed.

Holding his helmet, he watched Duan Qingshen rummaging in the trunk, squatting and grunting, then asked, “Brother Shen, should I change clothes?”

“No need.” Duan Qingshen didn’t even turn his head. “That riding suit looks great.”

Liang Yuanxing looked down at himself. “But it’s kind of dirty.”

Riding five hundred kilometers was no joke — not to mention the dust, there was plenty of mud splattered on him.

Duan Qingshen said, “Don’t wipe it off; we want that muddy effect.”

Liang Yuanxing stuffed the wet wipes back into the pouch.

The shooting location was the hotel’s basement parking garage.

“Wasn’t it supposed to be night scenery?” Liang Yuanxing asked, puzzled.

“The outside lighting is too chaotic.” Duan Qingshen held the camera, checking the screen. “And motorcycles aren’t allowed on the beach.”

As he spoke, Duan Qingshen adjusted the framing by pacing back and forth. He told Liang Yuanxing to stand in the aisle of the garage, which was very quiet; they could hear cars approaching and move out of the way promptly.

Liang Yuanxing stood there feeling a bit awkward, helmet clutched under his arm, just watching Duan Qingshen. Duan Qingshen was clearly in his element, focusing only on the viewfinder. Whatever appeared in the frame was the world itself.

“Turn on the motorcycle’s headlights, point them at where you’re standing now, then come back.”

“Okay.”

Liang Yuanxing turned on the lights and stepped back to his original spot. The motorcycle’s headlights shone directly on him, casting a perfect rim light in the dim underground garage.

With the light source set, Duan Qingshen adjusted some settings and said, “Look at the ground, but don’t lower your head. Hold your helmet with the other hand, and relax your back.”

“Like this?” Although he was told to relax, Liang Yuanxing felt very stiff.

“Perfect.” Duan Qingshen encouraged him. “Now walk toward the motorcycle at a normal pace.”

Though it was a normal walk, it was really hard to look natural. Liang Yuanxing wasn’t a professional model, and knowing the camera was on him made him nervous. Sure enough, Duan Qingshen chuckled softly.

Liang Yuanxing frowned and looked at him.

“Don’t look at the camera,” Duan Qingshen said, still watching the screen. “Keep walking.”

Then came a burst of continuous shots. Duan Qingshen knelt on one knee, pressing the shutter like a machine gun.

He wasn’t just flattering—these shots were truly excellent. The garage walls were a plain dark green, but two rows of black cars parked there. Liang Yuanxing’s black riding suit and black motorcycle, captured from the side by Duan Qingshen, looked like a black knight approaching a black warhorse.

Overhead were black-gray pipes, slightly dilapidated, with the subject outlined by the rim light. Duan Qingshen was very pleased.

“Touch the headlight with your fingers,” Duan Qingshen instructed.

The dust on Liang Yuanxing’s riding gloves was laid bare under the light. Duan Qingshen found his groove again, feeling somewhat immersed. He continued directing: “Put on your helmet, get ready to mount the bike, and walk to the bike...”

Suddenly, a sharp ringtone cut through the moment. It was Liang Yuanxing’s phone.

“Sorry.” Liang Yuanxing had just raised his helmet overhead.

“No problem, answer it.” Duan Qingshen stood, lowering his head to review the photos, though they weren’t fully cached yet—he could only check on the camera body.

“Hey, Auntie~” Liang Yuanxing answered, smiling happily.

“You’re still awake? It’s almost two a.m. in New Zealand, right?” Liang Yuanxing paced, trying to find a spot with better reception in the underground garage. “I safely arrived in Shandong. Is Little Yu still awake? I heard her crying—is her hairpin broken again?”

Finally, the camera allowed him to scroll back through the photos. Duan Qingshen lowered his head, reviewing them one by one.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine, no need to transfer money,” Liang Yuanxing reassured, replying to her concern with phrases like, “I’m doing well, rest assured, get some sleep early.”

After hanging up, an odd feeling lingered—as if a sequence of events had been interrupted, making the flow a bit awkward.

Tentatively, Liang Yuanxing asked, “Shall we… continue?”

He paused, realizing how strange that sounded.

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Duan Qingshen looked up, about to say “continue,” when the sound of a car engine and headlights swept through the other side of the aisle.

“Forget it.” Duan Qingshen took a couple steps forward, signaling him to step aside. “That’s enough. Let’s go upstairs and rest.”

That night, a little incident occurred in the room.

Duan Qingshen was staying here for three days. The hotel room was a suite with two small bedrooms and a lounge. When the incident happened, Liang Yuanxing was leaning over the dining table in the lounge, looking at photos with Duan Qingshen on the computer. Duan Qingshen was cropping images, occasionally teaching Liang Yuanxing about composition.

Then came two thunderous knocks on the door, harsh and unfriendly. Liang Yuanxing jumped, quickly standing and looking for anything to use as a weapon.

Duan Qingshen stood and pressed him back into the chair. “I’ll open the door.”

Such forceful knocking couldn’t be hotel staff, who usually rang the bell. Liang Yuanxing was pushed down but then sprang up again, following Duan Qingshen cautiously, ready for close combat.

Duan Qingshen cracked the door open slightly, hand gripping the knob firmly. Then suddenly he smiled and opened it fully. “How did you find me here?”

The visitor was a rather burly man, stepping directly inside, angry: “You’re asking? You’re already at my place! How come you didn’t contact me first? Hiding out in a hotel?”

Behind him came another man, also joining in: “Yeah! If I hadn’t seen you in the lobby, were you planning to show up only on the wedding day?”

Liang Yuanxing realized these were the groom and a friend.

After entering, they noticed Liang Yuanxing. Duan Qingshen introduced, “This is my assistant for the shoot, surname Liang, Liang Yuanxing. This is the groom, Zeng Xiaoyang, getting married the day after tomorrow, and this is my high school classmate and one of the groomsmen, He Wenbing.”

Liang Yuanxing shook hands with both, politely calling them Brother Zeng and Brother He.

Zeng Xiaoyang wasn’t empty-handed; he put a large bag of packaged barbecue skewers on the dining table. “Wenbing told me he saw you in the hotel lobby but wasn’t sure—it was just a silhouette. I said, why not ask the front desk?”

He Wenbing replied, “I said no, don’t make it look like I’m spying on you.”

Duan Qingshen looked speechless at the two. “Then how did you get the room number?”

“I went downstairs to get takeout and overheard the lobby manager shouting loudly: ‘Call the guest in room 2315! Tell him that three traffic lights east from here, there’s a store selling photography lights!’”

Duan Qingshen facepalmed. Liang Yuanxing asked the question he wanted answered: “What if it was just a coincidence? What if we hadn’t opened the door?”

He Wenbing said, “Then just apologize and throw in a couple of skewers!”

Liang Yuanxing exclaimed, “People do that?”

Duan Qingshen shook his head with a smile, closing the laptop. “I was going to contact you tomorrow. When we arrived, it was already past eight. If I’d contacted you, Xiaoyang would have insisted on taking me out to eat. We just settled in first; this kid rode a motorcycle all the way here, cold wind blowing the whole time.”

Zeng Xiaoyang understood, only pretending to be angry, and gestured toward the barbecue, “More midnight snacks.”

Actually, neither of them could eat much. They had just eaten a big meal less than two hours before and barely digested it. The three were high school friends of the same generation, though Liang Yuanxing was six or seven years younger.

He Wenbing grabbed a small handful of lamb skewers and handed them to him. “Here, Little Liang, try some!”

After calling him Little Liang, he asked, “How old are you? Don’t let me regret calling you that; you look pretty young.”

“Twenty-three, Brother He.” Liang Yuanxing accepted the handful, about six or seven skewers. He was still full and glanced secretly at Duan Qingshen, who took two skewers.

“We just had dinner,” Duan Qingshen said.

“He’s only twenty-three,” Zeng Xiaoyang said. “Unlike us, all thirty, he’s at that age where he can eat two more meals after being full.”

Liang Yuanxing wanted to protest, but the skewers smelled so good he just chewed, “Delicious.”

“See!” Zeng Xiaoyang shrugged. “Try this grilled beef fat!”

Duan Qingshen didn’t stop him, smiling and letting it be.

Zeng Xiaoyang then asked, “Qingshen, you quit your job already? Can you afford to pay your assistant?”

Duan Qingshen leaned back, glanced at Liang Yuanxing, and said, “I teach photography skills, with food and lodging included.”

Zeng Xiaoyang blurted out, “You better sell this handsome kid to my wife soon, don’t hold her back from making money!”

“?” Liang Yuanxing was shocked. “Wait, wait, Brother Zeng, I only earn legal money.”

Duan Qingshen burst out laughing. “No, his wife is Jiang Yu, a fashion entrepreneur, and she’s recruiting male models recently.”

Liang Yuanxing thought seriously for a moment. “Still no thanks. I’m happy learning photography with Brother Shen.”

“Don’t be afraid. Sister Yu is a local wealthy woman; nobody would dare bully you there,” He Wenbing joked. “By the way, Qingshen said you rode a motorcycle here? What kind?”

“ADV,” Liang Yuanxing said. “An adventure bike.”

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“Oh! I know!” Zeng Xiaoyang grabbed another handful of skewers and stuffed them at Liang Yuanxing. “I used to ride, but after one bad fall, I never did it again. You’ve got to be careful.”

“Too late, he already fell once,” Duan Qingshen squatted by the minibar fridge. “What do you guys want to drink?”

They brought back two colas, a Sprite, and a bottle of mineral water and sat down. Duan Qingshen twisted open the water and took a sip before continuing, “I only met him in the hospital after the fall.”

“Holy crap!” Zeng Xiaoyang quickly sized up Liang Yuanxing.

“No broken arms or legs, Brother Zeng,” Liang Yuanxing smiled. “Just a scrape, but I stayed in the hospital because of excessive bleeding.”

He Wenbing also examined him. “How’d you fall?”

Duan Qingshen, knowing the whole story, leaned back leisurely and listened.

Liang Yuanxing straightened slightly. “I was turning right in the motor vehicle right lane when a little electric tricycle ran a red light on the crosswalk. I could have dodged it by giving a quick throttle forward, but...”

“But...”

Two pairs of eyes fixed on him, eager for the juicy details.

They clearly loved a good story.

Feeling a bit embarrassed, Liang Yuanxing sighed. “That tricycle was different from the usual. It had a giant Buddha statue inside, which scared me. I froze for a moment.”

“A Buddha?” Zeng Xiaoyang asked. “A big Buddha inside a tricycle?”

“A huge golden Buddha,” Liang Yuanxing gestured. “Usually, car ornaments face inward, but this Buddha faced outward. It was dark, and the golden Buddha was backlit. The scene looked like the Buddha himself was driving the tricycle.”

He Wenbing burst out laughing. “Hahaha!!!”

“I thought the Buddha was coming to take me,” Liang Yuanxing continued bravely. “I didn’t resist. The bike tilted, and I fell.”

Looking at it from another angle, the Buddha ornament really worked—both the tricycle driver and the old man were fine.

He Wenbing sighed, “No way around it. Those tricycles usually carry the two most untouchable beings in society: the old man and his grandson.”

“Exactly,” Liang Yuanxing agreed. “But thankfully, the compensation and apologies went smoothly—no fuss.”

He glanced at Duan Qingshen, wanting to say it was a blessing in disguise but feeling shy. Duan Qingshen smiled faintly throughout, his eyes showing some weariness but not from travel fatigue.

The conversation naturally turned to recent events. The biggest news was Zeng Xiaoyang’s wedding. He Wenbing had recently extended his studies but seemed unbothered.

Duan Qingshen’s update was that he had quit his job.

“Are you running away five hundred kilometers to my wedding to avoid your dad?” Zeng Xiaoyang teased, chewing grilled beef fat.

Duan Qingshen took a sip of water. “No, my dad doesn’t know yet.”

“What? Doesn’t know?” Zeng Xiaoyang was shocked.

“Our department head Sun is an old friend of my dad, but I don’t think he told him,” Duan Qingshen shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I resigned; worst case, my dad will scold me.”

“Pfft!” He Wenbing said. “If the doctor quits, then quit. Being a photographer isn’t bad either.”

Liang Yuanxing listened, eyes following whoever spoke like a documentary camera. At that moment, he looked at Duan Qingshen, who met his gaze.

Duan Qingshen asked, “Assistant Liang, is being a photographer good?”

Liang put down his skewer and thought a moment. “Being a photographer is great, but unfortunately, you’re a landscape photographer.”

“How so?” Duan Qingshen looked at him expectantly.

The other two also watched him.

He answered, “Landscape photographers mainly rely on the ‘northwest wind’ and ‘photosynthesis’ to sustain their livelihood.”

Duan Qingshen clinked his mineral water bottle against Liang Yuanxing’s can of Sprite.

“You picked the right assistant,” Duan Qingshen said.