“So who is it, exactly? Who is it?” Pu Tao leaned in close to Wen Xi, narrowing her eyes. “You’re smiling so sweetly!”
Wen Xi raised her hand and gently pushed Pu Tao’s head away. “Alright, it’s working hours. Personal business is off-limits.”
“But I’m your life assistant!” Pu Tao protested, “Something is definitely up with you!”
Wen Xi waved her off. “Everything is perfectly fine. Now, get back to work.”
Pu Tao stared at her for a few seconds, huffing as she turned to leave. “Typical. Out with the old, in with the new.”
She spoke as she hurried away, quickly shutting the office door behind her.
Wen Xi chuckled to herself, spinning around once in her swivel chair.
,
Wen Xi had been busy these past few weeks; perhaps Shen Yu was too, as she hadn’t sent any WeChat messages.
Today was Monday again, and as usual, Pu Tao was going over the week’s schedule with Wen Xi.
Wancheng was one of the most developed coastal cities. Wen Xi was often too lazy to travel for work, so she mostly took commissions from local clients.
“Monday and Wednesday are commercial shoots, one is an advertisement and the other is a promotional film for the city,” Ke Han said, holding a tablet. “Tuesday afternoon is free, though acupuncture is scheduled. Friday…”
Wen Xi noticed Pu Tao hesitating and asked, “What’s wrong? Go on.”
“Originally, there were no out-of-office tasks for Friday,” Pu Tao glanced at Wen Xi. “But I received an email over the weekend about a magazine shoot. We could fit it in on Friday.”
“A last-minute addition…” Wen Xi murmured, tapping her keyboard. “I’ll have to travel, right? Which magazine?”
She rarely did magazine shoots these days, so the well-known local publishers wouldn’t reach out without prior discussion.
The reason was simple: it was too complicated. From agreeing on a theme to the shoot itself, retouching, and post-promotion, Wen Xi felt it drained too many brain cells.
When she first started in the industry, she took everything, doing her best to promote herself and grit her teeth through the demands of any client. Now that she had more options, she was pickier, and of course, she had the right to be.
“It requires travel. The invitation is from Reflection. They included a price in the email, including an expedited fee. It’s quite high,” Pu Tao mentioned a figure.
Wen Xi’s fingers paused, and she arched an eyebrow. “That much? As expected of a first-tier magazine.”
Reflection was based in the capital, Huanshi. It had been established for years and had collaborated with numerous film and television stars. However, they shouldn’t be lacking in photography teams; she wondered why they had sought her out this time.
Wen Xi yawned, looking somewhat uninterested. “Decline it. We’ve never worked together before. I’m not interested in jumping in last minute and risking a clash in aesthetics.”
“Ah,” Pu Tao hesitated. “But… they said this issue is a collaboration with Teacher Shen Yu.”
If Pu Tao had seen Shen Yu’s name a month ago, she would have contacted Wen Xi immediately. However, after the events of a few weeks prior, she sensed the relationship between Wen Xi and Shen Yu wasn’t that simple. Unsure, she had waited until the workday to bring it up.
“Shen Yu…” Wen Xi repeated, her fingers tapping the desk irregularly. “Is Reflection trying to ride the coattails of that previous trending search by looking for me?”
Pu Tao asked, “Should we take it?”
Take it…
Wen Xi looked at the dense project plans she had just typed on her computer, and Yu Qiao’s mention of “five months” echoed in her mind.
After a long silence, Wen Xi said, “Forward me the email first. Go back to your work; I’ll let you know once I’ve decided.”
“Okay!” Pu Tao replied.
A minute later, Pu Tao forwarded the original email from Reflection to Wen Xi.
Wen Xi shifted her gaze to the screen and clicked the mouse.
Perhaps Reflection was also worried about the timing, as they had included a draft of the creative proposal in the email.
Wen Xi clicked through the proposal quickly, but her eyes froze on a specific line of text.
Apparently, Reflection wasn’t hiding their intention to capitalize on the hype. One line read: [The cover will specify: Renowned actor/singer Shen Yu × Renowned photographer Wen Xi and her team, First Collaboration].
Wen Xi bit her lip privately.
She couldn’t deny it; she was tempted.
She wanted to see her name and Shen Yu’s side-by-side.
Not long after, the staff at Reflection received a response from Wen Xi’s studio.
An employee saw the reply and immediately ran to inform the Editor-in-Chief.
The Editor-in-Chief, Qin Lu, let out a “Heh.” “You see? Shen Yu’s name is quite effective. They said Twilight wasn’t taking magazine gigs anymore, but as soon as Shen Yu’s name came up, she accepted.”
The employee scratched their head. “Maybe she just had an interest in collaborating with us anyway.”
“Alright, alright, you can go now,” Qin Lu waved them away.
“Okay, goodbye, Chief.”
Qin Lu turned around and sent a message to Shen Yu.
Qin Lu: Just as you expected, Twilight agreed.
S: Mm.
Qin Lu: So cold? By the way, you owe me a favor for this, don’t you?
S: …Then I’ll contact Twilight and tell her she’s not doing it.
Qin Lu: You really are… fine! I owe you the favor, obviously. Otherwise, how would Reflection get the chance to work with Twilight?
S: Mm. I’m busy, talk later.
On the other side, Shen Yu turned off her phone and handed it to Ke Han. She had to restrain herself from laughing out loud in front of so many people on the film set. However, the look in her eyes still betrayed her good mood.
“Teacher Shen, did something happen? You seem to be in a good mood,” a junior on the set asked.
Shen Yu suppressed her smile; she wasn’t close with this junior.
She gave a faint, detached look and said coolly, “Nothing happened. Go back to your script.”
“O-okay.”
Shen Yu’s current project was a female-centric drama where she played the lead, meaning she had a heavy filming schedule. Since she would need to take a few days off for the magazine shoot, the director had condensed her scenes into these few days. The workload was intense, which was why she was finally sitting down to rest.
Ke Han handed her a bottle of water. Noticing others nearby, she said cryptically, “It’s settled.”
“Is it that obvious?” Shen Yu tilted her head back to take a few sips, revealing the graceful arc of her swan-like neck. “Go ahead and book the flights.”
“You make it sound so easy. Weren’t you actually nervous?” Ke Han teased quietly. “Otherwise, why wait until now to have me book the tickets?”
Shen Yu paused, glanced at Ke Han, and said nothing.
She wasn’t a psychic. Of course she wasn’t sure if Wen Xi would agree. Wasn’t it normal to be nervous?
A few days later.
The shoot was scheduled for Friday, so Wen Xi and her team booked a flight for Thursday evening.
Upon reaching the exit, Wen Xi saw fans waiting for Shen Yu, though the crowd wasn’t very large.
Wen Xi’s sleepiness dissipated slightly. She rarely showed her face and wasn’t a celebrity, so she walked straight past with an expressionless face.
Pu Tao looked at the circle of people outside and whispered, “Those are Teacher Shen Yu’s fans. It looks like Teacher Shen Yu is landing soon. Should we wait?”
“Too many eyes and ears. No need to wait; we’ll have plenty of time to say hello tomorrow,” Wen Xi said in a low voice.
She was dressed very inconspicuously today. Knowing how cold the airplane air conditioning could be, she wore long pants and a short-sleeved shirt with longer sleeves, exposing only a section of her jade-white arms.
Once they were clear of the crowd, she took out her phone and switched her Weibo to her “fan” alt account.
This account was a “Big V” fan account for Shen Yu. Pu Tao would occasionally log in to help with data and rankings. It had some influence, though not an overwhelming amount.
She checked the official fan club and several fansite masters’ Weibo posts; it seemed the magazine shoot was indeed a last-minute addition to the schedule.
Wen Xi hadn’t suspected anything at first, but seeing that there weren’t many fans at the airport, she began to have doubts.
Does she really want to see me that badly?
The corners of Wen Xi’s mouth twitched upward slightly.
In the evening, Wen Xi took her team to a nearby restaurant for a small gathering. When she returned to her hotel room, she carried a faint scent of alcohol.
She hadn’t even sat down to rest for five minutes when there was a knock at the door.
Wen Xi’s finger paused on her phone screen.
Times had changed. In such a short period, she had actually begun to look forward to the sound of a knock.
Wen Xi stood up and opened the door. Unsurprisingly, it was Shen Yu.
She looked as though she had been at the hotel for a while. She had bathed and removed her makeup; her slightly wavy black hair hung loose. She was wearing an ice-silk nightgown, carrying the lingering dampness of a shower.
Wen Xi’s pupils contracted. Her hands moved faster than her brain; seeing Shen Yu dressed like this, she immediately pulled the woman into the room.
“You… why would you come see me dressed like this?” Wen Xi released her hand as soon as they were inside. The skin she had touched felt scorching. “What if someone saw you?”
“No one saw. I’m right next door, and you opened the door very quickly,” Shen Yu said, crossing her arms and looking at the person in front of her who seemed to be radiating heat. “Besides, what’s wrong with what I’m wearing? It’s just ordinary pajamas.”
Wen Xi struggled to look away and changed the subject. “Is the soundproofing here bad? You heard me as soon as I got back.”
Shen Yu: “…”
Not really. At a hotel of this caliber, the soundproofing was excellent.
But Shen Yu certainly wasn’t going to admit that she had moved a chair to sit behind the door just to wait for her to return.
Shen Yu also changed the subject. “Why haven’t you been replying to my WeChat messages?”
“…” Wen Xi fell silent.
Could these two ever stay on the same wavelength?