Xu Zhi, oblivious to the situation, took out her phone intending to transfer the meal cost to him. She believed that any relationship based on splitting costs equally would last the longest, though she wasn’t sure why. Still, she wanted to maintain this enduring dining companionship with Chen Luzhou.
Chen Luzhou’s WeChat dinged in his pocket. Xu Zhi said, “I’ve sent you the money.”
Chen Luzhou: “…”
Later, after returning to his team, Chen Luzhou grabbed someone – a handsome fellow, albeit on the darker, thinner side. Young, but rich in romantic experience, his name was Yan Letong.
“What does it mean when a girl insists on splitting the bill?” Yan Letong, with a cigarette dangling from his mouth, analyzed confidently, “It means she doesn’t want to see you again. If she was interested, either you’d pay or she’d pay, giving a reason for the next meetup.”
Is that so?
Chen Luzhou was adjusting the drone for an upcoming aerial shot. He had been helping a motorcycle team with aerial photography for the past couple of days, introduced by Fu Yuqing. His friend’s motorcycle team was looking for an aerial photographer, and Chen Luzhou had agreed without hesitation. There were other photographers in the team, but Chen Luzhou was only responsible for aerial shots. The team was full of young people, and surprisingly, the other photographers were equally youthful. In just one evening, everyone had already bonded.
After finishing, Yan Letong found his analysis incredulous. Looking at Chen Luzhou standing there, seriously adjusting the equipment, he found it baffling. “Is it even possible for a girl not to be interested in you?”
Who knows. Chen Luzhou fixed the drone at the entrance of the U-shaped track.
Yan Letong couldn’t imagine it. After all, on Chen Luzhou’s first day with the team, the female photographers had completely transformed from their usual listless state, becoming extraordinarily kind even to them. How could he tell? Those female photographers were the team’s regular photographers, covering all their competitions. They usually got along well privately, having reached a calm and harmonious understanding. No one wanted to disrupt this balance, considering future collaborations. So they never wore makeup when coming to shoot. But hearing that a handsome guy had joined the team, the next day everyone showed up with exquisite makeup, looking both charming and homely.
Chen Luzhou crouched down, supporting himself with one hand, eventually sitting on the lawn. His other hand held the remote control as he looked up at the drone in the sky. He smiled and said, “She’s not an ordinary girl. No matter how you tease her, she won’t get angry. It’s quite interesting.”
Yan Letong, seasoned in relationships, smiled and educated him: “You don’t understand. Before dating you, a girl’s heart is as vast as the universe. No matter how you tease her, she can always accommodate and contentedly say ‘It’s okay, I can handle it.’ But once you start dating, her heart shrinks to the size of a needle’s eye,” he gestured confidently, “Then everything you do is wrong, everything can make her angry.”
Chen Luzhou sat on the grass, one leg stretched out, the other bent, resting his elbow on it. After a test flight, he brought the drone down. Without looking at Yan Letong, focusing on the remote control’s screen, he asked, “Do you know why that is?”
“Why?”
After landing the drone, Chen Luzhou put down the remote and said, “Because you become her universe. You fill her entire world, so naturally, her heart seems smaller. If you want to blame someone, blame yourself.”
Yan Letong had a sudden epiphany, tailing Chen Luzhou obsequiously, “Wow, bro, you’re so good at this.”
Chen Luzhou: “…It’s alright, go help me pick up the equipment.”
“Okay, teach me more in the future, bro.”
“Come on, I can’t even figure it out myself.”
Just as he finished speaking, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Chen Luzhou instinctively thought it was Xu Zhi, so he fished it out to check. Sure enough.
Xu Zhi: Chen Luzhou, Yingying just interrogated me. She knows I’m meeting you tomorrow and wants to come along. Is it okay to bring her?
Cr: Up to you.
Xu Zhi: …Our photographer… also overheard.
Already using “our” so quickly, huh?
Cr: …Whatever you want. How many times do I need to say it?
Chen Luzhou sent the message and tossed his phone into his bag, not wanting to look at it or respond anymore. He decided not to reply if she messaged again.
However, Xu Zhi didn’t message again. When she did, it was about half an hour later, by which time Chen Luzhou was already shooting. The motorcycle training ground was rented, with high daily fees. Their team didn’t have much funding, but for the club’s tenth-anniversary commemoration, to shoot a memorial video, the captain had emptied their coffers. So everyone cherished every moment there. The riders trained almost non-stop, wanting to showcase their best performance on camera.
On his first day, Chen Luzhou realized the conditions here were quite harsh. Except for the few female photographers staying in small hotels, the men all slept in a large dormitory upstairs. The work meals were mostly vegetarian, but that was manageable. The main issue was the shooting environment. Although the training base was in the suburbs of a neighboring city, without many high-rises around, surrounded by dilapidated low-rise buildings, sparsely populated and overgrown with weeds, there was a military zone nearby. Drones couldn’t be flown freely; flight paths needed approval before shooting was allowed. Moreover, most daytime flights were prohibited, with permission granted only after 9 PM.
So once the intense shooting schedule began, the entire team operated like clockwork. No one would stop to wait for anyone, especially not the riders. The riders’ peak performance was fleeting. If missed, it might take two more months of practice to achieve the same results. Just yesterday, because a photographer was distracted and missed capturing a rider’s best performance, the rider was so angry he got into a fight with the photographer. They still haven’t spoken since.
…
Chen Luzhou saw Xu Zhi’s later reply when it was almost midnight. He had just finished work and was processing the last few empty shots in the shed, exhausted. He took out his phone for a final check of messages.
Xu Zhi: Well, if it’s not convenient, let’s cancel tomorrow. You focus on your work, and we can meet when you’re back in Qingyi. It’s all the same.
“Bang!” The phone was slammed onto the table in the shed. The photography shed was right next to the racetrack, convenient for editing and touching up. They had set up a temporary shed where they could edit videos on the spot after the shooting, allowing for reshoots if unsatisfied. The facilities in the shed were basic, with just a few tables, a power strip, and several computers. In just a few days, the charging cables had become an indistinguishable tangle. So when Chen Luzhou slammed his phone on the table, the shirtless editor sitting nearby nervously glanced at the power strip, fearing it might get unplugged.
There was no air conditioning here, just a few standing fans. When the female photographers weren’t around, the well-built editors usually worked shirtless. Only Chen Luzhou stayed fully clothed. The younger guys in the team teased him, asking if he was too embarrassed about his poor physique to undress. Chen Luzhou would either joke back – “My body’s too good, I’m afraid you’ll get jealous” – or simply ignore them. He was generally even-tempered. Since joining the team, despite the harsh conditions, with some photographers complaining after just a few hours of shooting, threatening to leave, or demanding more pay, Chen Luzhou had shot for over ten hours a day without a word of complaint.
So when they saw him lose his temper, even the usually aloof editor couldn’t help but ask with concern, “What’s wrong? Family issues?”
The moon hung dutifully in the sky, illuminating the mountains, the earth, the lawn, and the young man’s burning heart.
“It’s nothing, carry on,” he shook his head, having no desire to confide. It wasn’t something he could easily explain; after all, he wasn’t even anything to her yet.
The editor didn’t press further, but tossed him a pack of cigarettes, “Do you smoke? If you do, feel free to have some of mine.”
Chen Luzhou forced a smile, thanking him for the gesture, but he truly didn’t smoke. He didn’t say anything more, just leaned back in his chair in a self-reflective manner, his long legs planted on the ground, rocking back and forth on the chair legs. He tilted his head back, staring at the bare, crudely installed incandescent bulb on the shed’s ceiling. The light wasn’t particularly bright, probably just about fifteen watts, but staring at it for a while made him dizzy. When he picked up his phone from the table again, his emotions were back under control. He had been a bit too harsh earlier.
Cr: Are you asleep?
Xu Zhi: No, are you done with work?
Cr: Yeah, what are you doing?
Xu Zhi: Watching a show you posted on your Moments. It’s quite interesting.
Cr: You’ve been scrolling through my Moments?
Xu Zhi: Mm-hmm.
Chen Luzhou wanted to ask, what does this mean? Why are you looking through my Moments? What’s your angle? Xu Zhi immediately sent another persistent message, seemingly afraid he might misunderstand, explaining:
Xu Zhi: I really couldn’t write my article, so I thought I’d find some inspiration from your Moments. Given your level of eloquence, I think you could handle this job.
Cr: …Thanks, Xu Zhi, but not everything needs an explanation. Sometimes when the wind blows hard, flowers and trees can’t reason with it. It’s all just natural phenomena, I understand.
Xu Zhi: Oh, right.
Cr: That question you asked me last time, I’ve been thinking about it.