“I’m not uncomfortable.” Wen Xi moved a bit further away from Shen Yu without making it obvious.
Shen Yu looked at her and didn’t say anything more. “That’s good, then.”
Wen Xi didn’t know if Shen Yu had noticed her abnormality; she felt as though her every movement was stiff.
…It was truly maddening.
Fortunately, the drive only took a few more minutes. They parked the car outside the park. This suburban wilderness park was mostly grassland, and vehicles were generally not allowed inside.
Reflection had reserved a small patch of the meadow for the shoot.
Today’s wardrobe was relatively simple. Shen Yu had already changed into her outfit beforehand, and the makeup artist worked on her right there in the business van.
Wen Xi had the staff bring the equipment and went ahead to scout the location.
Wen Xi had specifically requested this grassland location. She didn’t want a perfectly manicured, all-green artificial lawn. What she wanted was a sense of wild growth, grass of varying colors and uneven heights, the kind that gives a sense of freedom only when the wind blows through it.
By the time they reached the spot, the sun had risen. It was a beautiful, clear day.
Fearing there wouldn’t be enough wind, the Reflection team had brought a wind machine.
The area was quite large. Wen Xi walked around in a circle before finally deciding on the placement for the tripod.
Pu Tao stood by her side. “This grass is quite deep. Are there snakes?”
“Staff patrol here every day; there are no snakes,” Wen Xi said while watching the workers set up the gear. “Deep grass looks better when the wind blows. Most of the famous shots from the Western prairies are taken in deep grass.”
Pu Tao wasn’t a photography major, but having worked in the industry, she knew a bit. She thought back. “That’s true.”
Shen Yu’s makeup didn’t take long. The makeup artist had applied a base layer before they left that morning, so they only had to apply the color palette on-site.
By the time Shen Yu walked to the shooting point, the equipment was all in place.
Wen Xi checked the weather forecast on her phone, frowning. “Why hasn’t the wind picked up yet?”
A staff member nearby suggested, “We have a wind machine here. Should we use it first?”
As he spoke, another person began moving the machine over.
“The wind force is too concentrated; if we use the machine, we can only shoot the upper body,” Wen Xi shook her head. “It won’t move the grass.”
“Then let’s shoot the upper body first,” Shen Yu walked over. “Maybe while we’re shooting, the wind will come.”
Wen Xi looked at her and nodded. “We’ll do as Teacher Shen says.”
Because of the specific perspective needed for the upper-body shots, Wen Xi took the camera off the tripod to shoot handheld.
However, there weren’t many upper-body shots to take. Before long, Wen Xi began to feel a bit restless.
“Bored?” Shen Yu sensed her mood and walked over to ask.
Wen Xi looked down, flipping through the photos she had just taken. “It’s working hours. I’m not bored.”
The reality was that the other staff members were standing around waiting for the wind. Someone joked, “Isn’t this what they call ‘everything is ready, only lacking the East wind’?”
Shen Yu watched the grass swaying slightly in a tiny breeze. The movement was minimal.
She turned to Wen Xi and said, “Why don’t you take a few casual photos of me? Put it on my tab.”
Wen Xi knew Shen Yu thought she was bored. “I’m very expensive.”
“Perfect,” Shen Yu said playfully. “I have plenty of money.”
A trace of a smile appeared in Wen Xi’s eyes. “Alright, President Shen. Pick a spot and I’ll shoot you.”
Shen Yu naturally reached out and patted Wen Xi’s head. “Let’s go.”
The touch made Wen Xi’s scalp tingle. She pursed her lips uncomfortably and lifted her camera again.
Perhaps it was truly good luck, or perhaps Heaven was favoring her once more, shortly after Wen Xi raised her camera, she felt the grass brush against her calves.
, The wind had started.
“Shen Yu,” Wen Xi heard herself say. “Turn around. Look at me.”
The moment Shen Yu turned, the sound of the shutter clicked. At that moment, Wen Xi didn’t know that another “legendary photo” of Shen Yu was being born under her hand.
The scope of “freedom” is vast, so vast it can be described by countless things. It can also be very small, so small that people already have things in their hearts to symbolize it.
And in this moment, Wen Xi captured her “freedom.”
After finishing the work for Reflection, Wen Xi booked them a flight for 8:00 PM.
It was nearly 11:00 PM by the time they arrived in Wancheng. Seeing Pu Tao blinking her tired eyes, Wen Xi laughed. “Get some good rest tonight. Want to come over to my place to play tomorrow?”
Naturally, Pu Tao didn’t refuse.
It was very late when she got home. Wen Xi held her phone; Shen Yu had sent her a message a short while ago.
S: Let me know when you’re home.
Wen Xi typed a reply.
T.T: I’m back.
After a few minutes with no reply from Shen Yu, Wen Xi sent another message.
T.T: Have you arrived yet?
Shen Yu didn’t see the message until half an hour later. Because the shoot had ended early, she had changed her flight to an earlier one. Somehow, some fans had found out and had actually come to the airport to meet her late at night.
Shen Yu was blocked and couldn’t get out of the airport. Once she finally managed to leave under the escort of staff, she immediately had Ke Han arrange cars to send the fans home.
Ke Han frowned. “Someone even found out about your last-minute flight change. Those fans are either sasaengs or they bought the info from someone. Why do you care so much?”
A look of exhaustion appeared on Shen Yu’s face. “It’s very late, and they are all girls. It’s not safe.”
“Also,” Shen Yu’s expression turned cool, “when they get in the cars, have someone record their Weibo IDs. Be polite and gentle so they feel comfortable registering. Later, we can investigate and ask questions as needed.”
Shen Yu worrying about their safety was one thing; being stalked by sasaengs was another.
Ke Han nodded. “Fine, I’ll do as you say.”
After Ke Han left, Shen Yu finally leaned back in the business van and took out her phone.
She saw Wen Xi’s messages immediately, and a smile touched her weary face.
S: I’m almost there too. It’s been a long couple of days; get some rest early.
Wen Xi went to sleep peacefully after receiving Shen Yu’s message. Indeed, waking up early and sleeping late these past few days had been exhausting.
The next morning, Pu Tao arrived, timing it with Wen Xi’s weekend wake-up schedule, and knocked on the door.
When Wen Xi opened the door, she was still yawning.
Pu Tao looked eager to please, holding up several bags. “Breakfast! All your favorites. And yogurt, room temperature.”
Wen Xi pointed to the table. “Put it there. Find a seat; I’m going to wash my face first.”
Pu Tao smiled. “Okay!”
By the time Wen Xi finished cleaning up and came out, she saw Pu Tao sitting by the table with an expression of intense curiosity.
Wen Xi laughed, sat down across from her, and slowly took out the breakfast. “Are you ready to hear a story?”
Pu Tao sat up straight immediately, raising her right hand. “Yes, I am ready!”
Wen Xi smiled slightly and asked Pu Tao first, “What do you think of Shen Yu as a person?”
Pu Tao blinked, thinking back. “Teacher Shen is very nice. She has a great reputation in the industry. I’d heard she was a bit difficult to approach, but after these past few days, I really didn’t see that…”
“Most of the negative rumors were probably manufactured by rival fans. We’ve met so many industry professionals, and none of them have ever said a bad word about her.”
“The ‘difficult to approach’ part… actually, she really is hard to get close to.” Wen Xi remembered something. “The reason you felt she wasn’t difficult lately is probably because she and I knew each other before.”
“Actually, I guessed that, haha. I’m not that stupid,” Pu Tao laughed. “No one is that nice to a stranger they just met, unless…”
“Yes,” Wen Xi interrupted her. “We dated.”
Pu Tao’s eyes widened in shock. “Wha… What?! What do you mean, ‘dated’??”
Wen Xi explained patiently, “The romantic kind of dating. She’s my ex-girlfriend.”
“Holy crap!!” Pu Tao couldn’t help herself, then quickly covered her mouth. “Boss, why did you never tell me? I didn’t even know your orientation was toward women.”
She had guessed their relationship was unusual, but she hadn’t expected it to be this unusual.
In the years she had worked for Wen Xi, she had never seen anyone else by Wen Xi’s side, while she herself had already gone through another boyfriend.
Wen Xi opened a bottle of yogurt, took a sip, and asked, “Do you hate gay people?”
Pu Tao shook her head vigorously. “How could I? Society is so open now. My best friend is also a lesbian.”
“But some people do hate it,” Wen Xi curled her lips. “A lot of people can’t accept it.”
Pu Tao’s breath hitched slightly, thinking of something.
“Then, you and Teacher Shen…?”
Wen Xi looked back at the past and continued, “She was my first love, and my only one. We met in high school.”
Pu Tao felt a sudden ache in her heart. Wen Xi’s expression right now wasn’t a happy one; Pu Tao felt as if she might cry at any moment.
Wen Xi spoke softly. “What was I saying? Oh, right. I’m nearly twenty-eight now. When we were dating, it was ten years ago. Back then, not nearly as many people accepted same-sex relationships.”
Pu Tao felt a lump in her throat. “I remember Teacher Shen… she took the art entrance exams back then.”
Because of Wen Xi’s “fandom,” Pu Tao had also researched Shen Yu’s background.
“Yes. She was ranked first in the province. Amazing, right?” Wen Xi leaned her face on her left hand. “Being with her… I was the one who confessed first. We were so young then. We didn’t think about any of the problems; everything was fueled by passion. It was only later that I felt regret.”
Pu Tao felt for her. She asked hoarsely, “Do you regret confessing to her?”
“How could I regret that?” Wen Xi shook her head with a smile. “I regret being too impulsive. I should have waited until our lives were stable, at least until we were in college, before confessing. If I had, the ending might have been much better.”
“But there’s no use saying that now. What happened, happened.”
Wen Xi looked at Pu Tao. “I was the one who dumped her.”
Wen Xi looked so devastated. In all these years, Pu Tao had never seen her like this.
The corners of her eyes were red, yet she forced her lips upward into a smile that looked no different from crying.
“There was a reason,” Pu Tao said, not knowing how to comfort her. “You were forced.”
“Forced…” Wen Xi repeated the word. “Maybe it was voluntary.”
Voluntarily breaking up with Shen Yu, voluntarily staying away from Shen Yu’s world, voluntarily giving up painting…
“No, Boss, that’s not it,” Pu Tao shook her head, her brow furrowed. “Didn’t you say it was ten years ago? How could societal acceptance back then compare to now? There’s no way you did it willingly.”
Wen Xi was stunned by her words and laughed. “You’re so perceptive. You’re very smart.”
Wen Xi couldn’t help but think of Shen Yu. Shen Yu was also very smart. Would she… would she guess?
“Then guess one more thing, Tao Tao,” Wen Xi said with curving eyes. “I broke up with her on the day of her art exam.”
The timing was too specific. Given the context of their conversation, Pu Tao understood instantly.
Pu Tao’s face went pale.
Would Shen Yu ever figure it out?
Wen Xi didn’t know. She was just that contradictory, wishing Shen Yu would figure it out, yet wishing Shen Yu would never know and never have to think about it at all.