Zuo Chi froze, only then understanding Sheng Li’s logic.
After he kissed Sheng Li, he had imagined Sheng Li playing dumb or angrily questioning him, since to Sheng Li, kissing would be a betrayal of their friendship.
He thought his feelings were exposed, but Sheng Li didn’t see the kiss as a sign of affection. Instead, he thought Zuo Chi had no limits in complying with their families’ arrangement.
Zuo Chi first felt relieved. If Sheng Li had questioned the kiss, he wouldn’t have known how to respond. Then he felt sad, realizing that Sheng Li saw no possibility of mutual affection between them.
As Sheng Li had said, marrying an unknown Omega would be more acceptable than marrying him. Because unknowns hold the potential for sparks, while whatever spark they might have had was extinguished before it could ignite.
Sheng Li only saw him as a brother, a friend. Zuo Chi knew he held no sexual attraction for Sheng Li, but the bitterness in his heart was still hard to bear.
He tried to suppress his emotions: “It’s just a photo shoot. It’s not hard for you.”
Sheng Li’s voice carried anger: “I think we don’t need that kind of thing. Just the thought of pretending to be a loving couple in front of the camera with you makes me feel disgusted.”
Disgusted.
Sheng Li said he felt disgusted…
Sheng Li felt disgusted.
Zuo Chi’s heart felt like it was being pricked by a thousand needles.
Sheng Li seemed to realize he had gone too far: “Zuo Chi…”
Half of Zuo Chi’s consciousness was already drifting, hurt by the word “disgusted.” The other half decided to maintain his dignity, saying blankly, “Well, sorry for the trouble, but bear with the disgust and see you at school the day after tomorrow.”
Then he swiftly hung up the phone.
Hanging up was easy, but convincing himself not to care was hard. He told himself that if he wanted to pursue Sheng Li, this was just the beginning. He needed to get used to such harsh words; this was just a minor setback.
But Sheng Li had never spoken to him so harshly before. Zuo Chi rubbed his temples, sitting on the bed, pale.
Would Sheng Li come the day after tomorrow?
Zuo Chi wasn’t sure. If Sheng Li didn’t come, he couldn’t do anything about it.
The day passed quickly, and on the day of the photo shoot, Zuo Chi arrived at their high school as agreed with the photographer.
He had to register at the entrance. The guard recognized him: “It’s you. Did you and Sheng Li plan to visit a teacher?”
In high school, Sheng Li often arrived late and would give the guards good cigarettes to let him in quietly, so they all knew him.
Zuo Chi asked, “Is he here?”
The guard checked the logbook and pointed to an entry: “Yeah, he came half an hour ago.”
A weight lifted from Zuo Chi’s heart. He took the pen and wrote his name and phone number at the bottom of the logbook: “Sheng Li said he was visiting a teacher?”
Guard: “Yeah, aren’t you?”
The pen paused over the reason for entry. Zuo Chi looked up and smiled faintly: “No, we’re here to take couple’s photos. We’re getting engaged.”
The guard responded with an “Oh,” not fully processing it. After Zuo Chi walked to the fountain by the entrance, the guard extended his neck and called out, “Congratulations on your engagement!”
Even though he knew they weren’t a real couple, hearing the guard’s blessing made Zuo Chi feel a strange sensation, like bubbles rising in his chest.
No wonder so many people pretend to be happy. Sometimes, deceiving others also means deceiving yourself for a moment.
He called the photographer to ask where he was. The photographer said he had borrowed a classroom from the school in advance and asked Zuo Chi to go to the teaching building.
In the classroom, besides the photographer, there was a makeup artist and an assistant. They greeted Zuo Chi warmly and asked if he had any specific requirements for his makeup.
“Just something simple,” Zuo Chi replied, not knowing much about it. “Where’s Sheng Li? The guard said he was already here. Have you seen him?”
The photographer winked at Zuo Chi: “You’ll find out soon enough.”
Zuo Chi’s curiosity was piqued, making the makeup session seem unusually lengthy. The makeup artist’s brushes roamed over his face, praising his good skin and asking what skincare products he usually used.
Zuo Chi: “…I don’t use skincare products.”
The makeup artist was surprised: “How come?”
Cheng Xiangwan had once given him some bottles and jars, but Zuo Chi used them for two days, feeling they wasted too much time, so he left them on the table to gather dust.
Zuo Chi couldn’t sit still: “How much longer is this going to take?”
The makeup artist chuckled: “Almost done, take a look in the mirror.”
Zuo Chi raised his gaze. In the mirror, the Omega had been enhanced: his jawline was sharper, his nose more prominent, and his eyes, now wearing colored contacts, were captivating.
The photographer exclaimed: “So beautiful.”
Indeed, he was very beautiful. Perhaps because it was so far from his self-perception, Zuo Chi felt uneasy: “Isn’t this a bit exaggerated?”
The photographer replied: “Not at all. You look perfect on camera. I guarantee Mr. Sheng will be pleasantly surprised when he sees you.”
Really?
Zuo Chi hesitated for a moment, then abandoned the idea of changing his makeup. With the assistant’s guidance, he went to change his clothes in the bathroom. Fortunately, the outfit was simple, a casual-style gray suit.
Zuo Chi didn’t understand: “Aren’t we supposed to wear school uniforms?”
The photographer adjusted Zuo Chi’s collar and instructed the assistant to bring the props, without directly answering: “Mr. Zuo, follow me.”
It was class time, so there weren’t many people at school. Since graduation, Zuo Chi had passed by the school gate a few times but never entered. Compared to seven years ago, the school had changed a lot, with renovated buildings and newly paved roads, but as he walked through each spot, he could still recall their original appearances.
He remembered his name being on the honor roll many times, with Sheng Li standing in the crowd, seeing the announcement before him, turning to him with a smile: “Ah Chi, first place again. Treat me to dinner tonight.”
He remembered Sheng Li often helping him pick up a bottle of water from the convenience store without asking. He just knew that Zuo Chi drank mineral water in winter and soda water in summer.
He remembered playing basketball with Sheng Li on the court, excitedly high-fiving after winning the game…
“Bang, bang.”
It was the sound of a basketball hitting the ground.
Zuo Chi followed the photographer to the playground. Under the basketball hoop, an Alpha in blue and white school uniform leaped up and shot the ball. The basketball drew a perfect arc in the air and landed directly in the hoop.
He proudly raised his eyebrows, then turned his face. When he saw Zuo Chi, his expression momentarily froze, then he lowered his face: “you’re here late.”
The photographer had already captured the first photo.
It was Zuo Chi, dressed in a suit, looking at Sheng Li, dressed in a school uniform, with focused eyes. Sheng Li stood under the light, dazzling and radiant.
It was as if they had crossed through time and space, the twenty-five-year-old him seeing the teenager from his memories.
He had deliberately asked Sheng Li to come early just to capture this effect. Unfortunately, after one snapshot, the two protagonists stopped cooperating.
The photographer guessed they were having a quarrel because when he asked them to make eye contact, the atmosphere became somewhat awkward. Zuo Chi’s lips tightened into a straight line, but his eyes were soft. Sheng Li seemed indifferent but seemed reluctant to look at Zuo Chi, his gaze wandering aimlessly.
“Um…” The photographer cautiously suggested, “Can you two move a little closer?”
Zuo Chi took two steps forward, and Sheng Li pursed his lips and said, “That’s close enough.”
Zuo Chi took another step forward, a distance suitable for a hug. Sheng Li said, “Can’t you understand what I said?”
The photographer saw his ears turn red: “…”
Later, Zuo Chi changed into a school uniform and took photos in other parts of the campus. In the classroom, on the rooftop… The two of them had no interaction, appearing like tourists who happened to be in the same frame.
The photographer tried several times to lighten the mood but failed. He felt it was a pity, as they were both handsome and matched each other perfectly.
Exiting the teaching building, passing by the small square, a banner hung between two trees, reading “XX School’s 23rd Music Festival.” Several students were tinkering with equipment in the middle, probably preparing for a rehearsal. The “family and friends” sat on the stairs beside them, urging them to perform a song quickly.
The music started, an old song.
Zuo Chi paused in his steps and looked back at Sheng Li.
Sheng Li remembered the year in his sophomore year when, to impress an Omega, he had dragged Zuo Chi into forming a band to perform at the music festival.
Because none of them could carry a tune, Zuo Chi naturally took on the role of lead singer. Sheng Li and Tai Xingyu played guitar, Xiang Yiqun played drums, and Xu Hui was on the keyboard.
They sang this song too. The five of them rehearsed several times, gathered after school, bickering but happy. Unfortunately, they didn’t make it to the stage in the end—Xu Hui received an urgent notice, Tai Xingyu went to participate in a math competition, and Xiang Yiqun was troubled because his relationship with Zhou Jing was discovered by the vice principal, who was also Zhou Jing’s father.
For Sheng Li, the memory was memorable not because of any particular Omega, but because of the friends around him.
Hearing the familiar melody, his determination suddenly wavered: “…Ah Chi.”
Zuo Chi’s memories were different from Sheng Li’s.
Although the tune was light and cheerful, it was bitter for him. Sheng Li formed the band to sing in front of the whole school, and the relationship between Sheng Li, Tai Xingyu, Xiang Yiqun, Xu Hui, and him was one he couldn’t fit into.
Unrequited love was not as simple as being friends.
Once there were doubts, he and Sheng Li were destined to never be like before.
“You sing better than me.” He laughed self-deprecatingly, unwilling to reminisce about youth with Sheng Li, withdrew his gaze, and asked the photographer, “Do we have enough material?”
The photographer replied truthfully, “The contract stipulates a hundred original shots per set, and we haven’t even taken half yet.”
Zuo Chi glanced at the time on his wristwatch: “I have a dinner appointment tonight. Let’s go shoot the set at the church first.”
Zuo Chi’s words brought Sheng Li back to reality. He and Zuo Chi were no longer seventeen-year-old teenagers standing here; they were going through the damn engagement process! Seeing Zuo Chi’s business-like demeanor, perhaps he was treating this as part of his job.
“Do we have to go to the church? Since when did you become religious?” Sheng Li said sarcastically, “Since you’re so busy, why don’t we skip this? Don’t want you to miss out on big deals.”
Sheng Li was sarcastic every day.
