WBAI Chapter 40

After returning home, Yu Feng helped Xie An’yu transfer the photos from the old mobile phone to a USB drive and handed it to him.

“Over time, the image quality will definitely degrade. You can find a print shop later to get the photos printed. Physical copies last much longer than digital ones.”

Xie An’yu clutched the USB drive and nodded. Yu Feng then sent the photos to Xie An’yu’s WeChat as well, saying, “I’ve sent you a copy on WeChat too. Save them in your current phone.”

Xie An’yu went back to his room and placed the old phone in the drawer of his bedside table.

He saved the photos Yu Feng sent on WeChat to his phone’s album. When he exited the chat screen, a message from the clothing store boss lady popped up.

The finalized, retouched photos of Xie An’yu’s modeling shoot for the store were ready. The boss lady had packed them into a folder and sent them to his WeChat, mentioning they would be posted on the store’s homepage in a few days. The boss lady was extremely satisfied with the results—after all, where else could she find a model with such great looks at such a low price?

The boss lady chatted with Xie An’yu a bit more on WeChat, mainly trying to persuade him to sign a long-term contract with her store. Xie An’yu had never planned to stay in modeling long-term, and besides, he already had a work arrangement with Jiang Ting and would soon start shooting for her. So he declined the offer.

The boss lady was a bit disappointed but didn’t press the matter further.

Xie An’yu didn’t open the photos the boss lady sent. He felt that looking at heavily retouched images of himself—versions that might look drastically different from the real him—would probably make him cringe, so it was better not to look at all.

Truthfully, Xie An’yu didn’t like being photographed, especially when it involved posed shoots where he was directed step by step like a doll.

If it weren’t for survival, he probably would never have ventured into an industry that relied so much on looks and physique.

***

Ever since Jiang Ting found out that Xie An’yu knew Yu Feng, she finally understood how Jiang Xiaotian had met Xie An’yu in the first place. Jiang Xiaotian had intended to act as an invisible middleman, hoping to secretly kill two birds with one stone, but his plan backfired spectacularly—none of the three involved parties remained in the dark.

The shooting assignment was quickly scheduled. Jiang Ting coordinated the timing with Xie An’yu. The photographer assigned to him was another contracted photographer from 《Charm》. The process wasn’t as awkward as Xie An’yu had feared—it was similar to his previous modeling shoot for the online store: changing outfits, striking poses, taking photos… rinse and repeat.

The only difference was that the workflow was much more meticulous. They needed full-body shots, half-body shots, close-ups, and extreme close-ups. Several times, when the photographer brought the camera right up to Xie An’yu’s face, his facial muscles nearly twitched.

But thanks to the intensive training day and his prior modeling experience, Xie An’yu wasn’t so nervous that he didn’t know where to look.

The previous photographer had once told him that if he felt uncomfortable, he shouldn’t treat the camera lens like a human eye—just think of it as a rock. The trick worked well. With Xie An’yu’s face, as long as his gaze wasn’t wandering, the shots would always turn out pleasing to the eye.

Jiang Ting was present throughout Xie An’yu’s two-day shoot. After each set of photos, the photographer would transfer them from the camera to a laptop.

The photographer sat in front of the computer reviewing the photos, while Jiang Ting stood bent over behind him, also staring at the screen.

“Editor Jiang, is this really a newcomer?” the photographer asked with a smile as he flipped through the images one by one.

The results completely exceeded Jiang Ting’s expectations. Truly, clothes make the man[mfn]人靠衣服馬靠鞍 (rén kào yī fú mǎ kào ān): (Proverb) Clothes make a man just as a saddle makes a horse; the tailor makes the man; fine feathers make fine birds. The proverb consists of two parallel phrases: “clothes make the man” means that appropriate clothing can enhance a person’s appearance, and “saddles make the horse” means that a good saddle can highlight the horse’s majestic posture. The two use analogy to reinforce the core concept of “external decoration affects the perception of things” and emphasize the dialectical relationship between visual presentation and intrinsic value.[/mfn]—once dressed in high-end luxury brands, his aura and presence were entirely transformed.

“Not exactly a complete novice,” Jiang Ting couldn’t suppress the smile on her face. “He’s done one shoot before.”

The photographer turned to ask her, “For whom?”

“A Taobao[mfn]淘寶 (táo bǎo): Taobao is a Chinese online shopping platform. It is headquartered in Hangzhou and is owned by Alibaba.[/mfn] store.”

“Huh?”

Jiang Ting kept her eyes on the screen, scrolling through the images as she murmured to herself, “I knew he’d be a good fit, but I never expected the final results to be this good.”

“With a face like his, even Taobao bestsellers would look like high fashion, let alone these designer pieces,” the photographer remarked, also fixated on the screen. “I’m realizing natural talent really does outweigh experience.”

Jiang Ting chuckled. “Obviously. That’s why they say some people are born for this[mfn]老天爺賞飯吃 (lǎo tiānyé shǎng fàn chī): lit. God gave food to eat; an adjective to describe someone who is extremely talented in a certain area and even God has blessed him with a good job; a popular internet slang term. Used to describe people who are born with outstanding conditions, such as body shape, appearance or talent, which make their lives effortless and smooth, as if God has given them a job.[/mfn].”

“But his gaze is great too—not empty, yet still cool and detached.” The photographer suddenly lowered his voice. “…I heard he knows Yu Feng? Was he a model Yu Feng shot before?”

Jiang Ting gave him a sidelong glance. “Since when does Yu Feng shoot for Taobao stores? Didn’t I just tell you he’s only done one modeling gig before—for an online store.”

“Then, the two of them…”

Jiang Ting only knew that Xie An’yu and Yu Feng knew each other. She didn’t know anything else and didn’t pry; she wasn’t that nosy and just wanted to do her job well.

“No idea,” Jiang Ting said.

“Isn’t Yu Feng… that way?” The photographer’s voice grew even quieter as he leaned closer to Jiang Ting’s ear. “Could this model be his…?”

Jiang Ting’s brows furrowed, and she instantly became annoyed. She couldn’t stand gossipy men—their petty chatter was downright annoying. Her tone grew impatient. “Why are you acting like an old woman at the village entrance, always gossiping? What does it have to do with you whether he is or isn’t, prying like this?”

Jiang Ting was straightforward—when someone crossed a line, her displeasure showed plainly. Once her temper flared, she exploded like firecrackers. Jiang Xiaotian had received plenty of such ‘affection’ from his sister growing up.

She’d known this photographer for quite a while, and they got along well privately. In fact, she’d borrowed his assistant for the last shoot. Precisely because they were close, Jiang Ting held nothing back, calling out anything that rubbed her the wrong way.

“Hey, hey—I was just asking. Why are you blowing up?” The photographer said, turning to her with an upward glance. “Want me to smooth your ruffled feathers?”

“Smooth my ass,” Jiang Ting retorted, looking down at him. “Let me make this clear—I hate gossipy men. Don’t be a busybody around me.”

The photographer lowered his head with a sigh. “Your wish is my command.”

Jiang Ting patted the back of his head. “Carry on, Teacher Chai.”

***

The photoshoot took two days in total, and the level of refinement was clearly not on the same level as a Taobao shoot. Previously, Xie An’yu had cycled through dozens of outfits in a single day for the clothing store shoot. This time, there were fewer than ten outfits, but each set took considerable amount of time.

Beyond changing clothes, there was meticulous makeup and styling—not just basic touch-ups, but detailed looks with strong thematic elements.

Aside from the photographers, Xie An’yu hardly interacted with anyone on set, leading the crew to assume he was difficult to get along with—someone aloof and unapproachable.

This was the first impression most people had of Xie An’yu: reserved, indifferent, and reluctant to engage. Back in school, this demeanor had even made him a target for some teenage bullies. But the workplace was different from school; adults were generally more tactful.

Moreover, after that incident in the employee cafeteria where Xie An’yu and Yu Feng were photographed eating together—a photo that quickly circulated in the company group chats—almost everyone knew Xie An’yu had some connection to Yu Feng. Under these circumstances, it was even less likely for Xie An’yu to be treated with cold indifference.

The workplace was just that pragmatic.

Even Jiang Ting noticed how unusually polite the staff were toward Xie An’yu. She had handled shoots for new models before, and back then, some people hadn’t been nearly as accommodating.

Xie An’yu initially thought running into Yu Feng at the company would be a common occurrence, but he soon realized it wasn’t. The chances of seeing Yu Feng daily were slim—he was often away on business, flying between cities and countries.

During Xie An’yu’s two-day shoot for 《Charm》, he didn’t see Yu Feng at all. Today, Yu Feng was out of town again, though Xie An’yu didn’t know the specifics—something about attending an event.

After two shoots, Xie An’yu had earned a considerable sum, enough to pay off all his previous debts in one go. He transferred the full amount to Ding Xiaofei, who responded with a flurry of shocked question marks.

Ding Xiaofei: 【???????????????】

Ding Xiaofei: 【Did you win the lottery??】

Xie An’yu: 【Earned some money】

Ding Xiaofei: 【Holy shit, what did you do to make this much all at once???】

Xie An’yu: 【Modeling】

Ding Xiaofei: 【!】

Ding Xiaofei: 【I told you you should’ve been a celebrity or something, damn】

Ding Xiaofei: 【Modeling’s good too, though. Pays well, huh?】

Xie An’yu: 【Yeah, it pays pretty well】

Ding Xiaofei: 【Celebrities definitely make even more. You should go for it—I’ll wait for you to become filthy rich】

Xie An’yu: 【Money’s enough as long as it covers my needs. I wouldn’t make it as a celebrity anyway】

Ding Xiaofei: 【Bullshit. Never turn your nose up at money, no matter what】

Xie An’yu: 【I’m not. I just don’t have what it takes to be a celebrity. You think it’s that easy?】

Just as he was typing, the doorbell rang. Xie An’yu walked to the door while still texting.

Xie An’yu: 【Could you help me settle all the debts at once? I’ll send you the ledger later】

Ding Xiaofei: 【ok】

Xie An’yu sent Ding Xiaofei a 200-yuan[mfn]T/N: Around 28 USD[/mfn] red envelope.

Ding Xiaofei: 【Being rich feels so good [crying]】

Ding Xiaofei: 【Thanks, boss [crying]】

Xie An’yu opened the door to find Zhou Yi standing outside, holding a foam box.

“Professor Zhou.”

Zhou Yi responded with an ‘Hey’ and stepped inside, carrying the box.

“Brother Yu isn’t home,” Xie An’yu said.

“I know. I’m here to drop something off for you.” Zhou Yi carried the foam box into the kitchen. “A friend gave me some snow crabs[mfn]雪蟹 (xuě xiè): Chionoecetes opilio, a species of snow crab, also known as opilio crab or opies, is a predominantly epifaunal crustacean native to shelf depths in the northwest Atlantic Ocean and north Pacific Ocean. It is a well-known commercial species of Chionoecetes, often caught with traps or by trawling.
[/mfn] and told me to share them with your Brother Yu. I was planning to keep them all to myself, but he somehow found out immediately and demanded I deliver his share to the house.”

“These crabs won’t stay fresh for long,” Xie An’yu said. “He’s out of town—probably won’t be back today.”

The snow crabs in the foam box were still moving, probably freshly caught, though not as lively anymore. Given a little more time, they’d likely kick the bucket—no longer fresh.

“I know he’s out of town. He asked me to deliver these to your place for you to handle.”

Keeping the good stuff for their own kid—Zhou Yi understood that well.

Yu Feng hadn’t just asked Zhou Yi to deliver the goods; he’d also instructed him to hire a chef to prepare the snow crabs at home.

Teacher Yu said he would reimburse him later.

Hiring a □□ chef wasn’t difficult for Zhou Yi. Pulling out his phone, he said, “Let’s deal with them today. They won’t be good if they’re left overnight. I’ll find a chef to handle these crabs.”

Xie An’yu, who had been eyeing the crabs in the box, glanced up at him and said, “No need for a chef. I can handle it.”

Zhou Yi paused, phone in hand. “…You’ve got that skill too?”

“I grew up on an island. The sea was right outside my door. Seafood like this is pretty common where I’m from.”

“Your hometown is on an island?”

Xie An’yu gave a small hum and asked, “Professor Zhou, have you had dinner yet?”

“Not yet. I wanted to get these crabs over here first—was afraid they’d die if I delayed.”

“Then stay and eat with me. These crabs are too big for me to finish alone.”

Truthfully, it wasn’t that he couldn’t finish them—Xie An’yu just wasn’t particularly fond of seafood.

“You’re going to cook them yourself?”

“Mm. What kind of flavor do you like?”

“I get to choose?” Zhou Yi laughed. “Awesome, Xiao Xie.”

“They can be steamed or stir-fried.”

Zhou Yi joked, “Can you make sashimi?”

“Sure, but the quality of snow crab meat isn’t at its best this season. It probably wouldn’t taste very good as sashimi. Now isn’t the best time to eat snow crabs.”

“You really are something, Xiao Xie,” Zhou Yi said sincerely.

With so many skills under his belt, Xie An’yu would definitely manage just fine without Yu Feng, even though Yu Feng guarded him like a precious gem.

Zhou Yi had brought three crabs for Yu Feng; the other three had gone to his parents. As a single guy, he usually handled dinner alone, so staying here saved him the trouble of cooking at home.

“Guess I’m having a crab feast here today, then.”

Xie An’yu nodded. “I’ll go downstairs to the supermarket for some ingredients.”

“I’ll go,” Zhou Yi said, glancing at the crabs in the foam box. “You handle these three guys first—they look like they’re about to croak. Text me what to buy… Wait, we haven’t added each other on WeChat yet, have we? Here, let’s add each other now.”

After adding Xie An’yu on WeChat, Zhou Yi headed downstairs to the supermarket. Xie An’yu crouched to examine the crabs again. Though there were only three, each was sizable—probably not cheap.

When Zhou Yi returned with the ingredients, Xie An’yu prepared all three snow crabs: one steamed, one spicy stir-fried, and the last one’s body used for steamed crab egg custard while its legs were turned into sashimi.

After a good while of work, it was finally time to eat.

Zhou Yi surveyed the crab feast on the table and clicked his tongue. “I should livestream this for Yu Feng.”

With that, he pulled out his phone and video-called Yu Feng.

***

Yu Feng was actually in Haizhou for an awards ceremony. He’d recently won a prize at a charity photography competition and had gone there to receive it.

Yu Feng had won numerous awards in international competitions, but this was the first time he encountered a charity photography event that required formal attendance at an awards ceremony. Perhaps because it was the inaugural competition, the organizers made it quite official, even broadcasting the ceremony live online.

The event lasted the entire day—exhibiting the winning works in the gallery during the day and holding the awards ceremony in the evening. If not for the organizers’ persistent persuasion, Yu Feng would never have attended such an event.

It was currently dinnertime, and Yu Feng was resting in his hotel room. The awards ceremony would officially begin at seven.

Yu Feng was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, adjusting his clothes. When he felt his phone vibrate, he looked down. He propped his phone up on the shelf beneath the mirror and swiped the screen to answer.

“What?” Yu Feng asked, looking at his reflection.

“Wow, looking so sharp.”

Yu Feng was wearing a formal black suit because he was about to go on stage to accept an award. He was in the process of tying his tie.

“Xiao Xie, take a look.”

Hearing this, Yu Feng lowered his gaze slightly, his eyes meeting the phone’s camera.

Xie An’yu was sitting across from Zhou Yi. Zhou Yi had turned the phone camera to him, and on the screen was Yu Feng in full formal attire.

Yu Feng usually let his bangs fall loosely, his hair naturally quite fluffy. Today, however, he must have used some gel, slicking it back into a neat yet slightly textured style. His thick hair kept the look from appearing too stiff, adding a touch of maturity.

Without his glasses, his entire face was unobstructed. One hand held the lower end of his tie while the other adjusted the knot, his gaze slightly downward as he locked eyes with Xie An’yu through the screen.

This was the first time Xie An’yu had seen Yu Feng dressed so formally. He had always thought Yu Feng was handsome—ever since their first meeting.

Although Xie An’yu rarely paid much attention to other people’s appearances and sometimes even had face blindness, Yu Feng had always been in the ‘exceptionally good-looking’ category in his eyes. After all, living under the same roof, he saw him all the time. Anyone who had seen Yu Feng up close would have a hard time ignoring his looks.

But it had to be said—Yu Feng without his glasses was so handsome it was a little dazzling, and it was a completely different kind of handsome than usual.

Yu Feng averted his gaze, returning his attention to the mirror. He continued to adjust his tie as he said to Xie An’yu, “Good evening.”

Since there’s no actual name of the dishes, I can’t include food porn. Here’s a snow crab feast pic[mfn][/mfn].

[dropdown title=”List of Idiom in Chapter 40″]
一箭雙鵰 (yī jiàn shuāng diāo): lit. one arrow, two golden eagles (idiom); to kill two birds with one stone; to do one task and finish two or more goals; shoot two hawks with one arrow; achieve two goals with a single action. accomplish two things at once. hit two targets with one shot. This idiom means that someone is very skilled in archery and can shoot two eagles with one arrow. It is used to describe someone who achieves two goals by doing one thing.

軟磨硬泡 (ruǎn mó yìng pào): to coax and pester unceasingly (idiom); to tiresomely pursue something; use polite begging and stubborn pestering by turns; to wheedle; to cajole; use polite begging and stubborn pestering by turns; coax and pester—tiresomely pursue sth; achieving a goal through persistent entanglement.
[/dropdown]

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