Chapter 85: The Imperial Photographer
1103 Words
Luo Ye didn’t think the other person was any worse just because they couldn’t end up together. Su Bai Zhu gave him a quick glance and thought the freshman looked even cuter than before.
After a simple dinner they each retreated to their own rooms.
Luo had taken a full day off, and now lay in bed tossing and turning, unable to sleep. It wasn’t his first night on the floor, but this time felt different—this was his first outright stay in Su Bai Zhu’s place.
The next day was Sunday, another pleasant day off.
He woke up, ate breakfast with his senior, then slipped back into his room to finish the day’s update. By noon he stepped out, ate the meal Su Bai Zhu had cooked, washed the bowl, and plopped onto the sofa to watch TV with her. He felt the rhythm of their lives was like that of an old married couple—plain, but fulfilling.
“Jiangcheng—what places have you been to?” Su Bai Zhu asked suddenly.
Luo thought for a moment. Jiangcheng, a water‑town city in the Jiangnan region, boasts countless famous spots—ancient towns, old streets, museums. Yet as he racked his brain, he realized he hadn’t really been anywhere. After the military training, he’d had dinner with his roommates, taken Su Bai Zhu’s spicy fish‑head to Jiangcheng Park, then gone to Hangcheng… and that was about it.
He’d been in Jiangcheng for almost two months and still hadn’t visited a single landmark.
Seeing his blank stare, Su Bai Zhu guessed his answer.
“Grab the keys.”
She turned off the TV, went back to her room, and changed clothes.
Luo knew she was about to take him out for a little city tour. It was normal for a senior to show a fresh freshman around.
When she emerged, she was wearing a hanfu. Not the red one from before, but a sleek black set in a gender‑neutral style. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, the bangs gone, leaving her forehead exposed. The black hanfu made her look like a young general—handsomely striking. Even though she styled herself like a boy, anyone could tell she was a girl from the way her chest was cut.
Luo’s eyes instinctively drifted to her. Su Bai Zhu noticed, crossed her arms protectively over her chest, and stared at him sharply. His face flushed, and he quickly averted his gaze—pure reflex, a man’s instinct, not a deliberate look.
“Let’s go.”
Luo was in casual clothes. If he’d known she’d be in hanfu, he’d have dressed up too, but it was too late now, so he headed out as he was.
He slipped back into her pink spicy fish‑head car, took the wheel, and drove out of the residential area.
“Let’s go to the ancient town.” Su Bai Zhu said.
Luo pulled up the navigation on his phone.
Jiangcheng, true to its name, is split by a wide river that divides the city into north and south districts. Jiang University sits in the south, about seven kilometers from the river. Near the river lies the most famous spot in the city: the ancient town.
Because it was the weekend, traffic added about a half‑hour of delay. After finding a parking spot, Luo hurried out, opened the passenger door, and reached for Su Bai Zhu’s hand. She hesitated for a beat, then placed her hand in his. Luo’s heart raced, but once she stepped out of the car he let go.
The silhouette of the ancient town rose in the distance.
Luo had been to old towns in Beijing, but each city’s water‑town has its own vibe. Here the architecture revolved around water—numerous bridges spanned clear streams, small boats drifted on the water, and the buildings rose with not just ground‑floor shops but second and even third floors in some places. The fresh layout was a first for Luo.
They walked side by side onto a small bridge.
Su Bai Zhu turned slightly and asked, “How’s it?”
“What’s ‘it’?” Luo’s eyes were bright with innocent curiosity.
“Scenery.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Mm.”
She nodded. Then she handed him her phone.
Luo took it. Su Bai Zhu’s phone was a flagship from a couple of years ago, not the newest model. Luo, on the other hand, owned the latest fruit‑brand phone. The screen was stuck on the camera app.
Got it—she wanted a photo of the view. When a girl sees a pretty scene, she often wants a picture. Yet Su Bai Zhu never posted selfies—maybe because no one ever took one for her?
Luo pulled out his own phone, opened the camera, and said, “Senior, I’m a pro. My phone’s brand‑new, the shots are crystal clear.” He lifted it, and Su Bai Zhu didn’t refuse; she struck a pose that suited her style, allowing Luo to snap away.
He wasn’t exaggerating—his photography skills were genuinely decent, though he’d failed to get into the photography department because his computer‑science scores were higher than his art scores. At home his aunt’s whole family lacked any eye for photography, so whenever they went somewhere, Luo was the one always behind the camera.
After a few shots, Luo was pleased and asked, “Senior, how do they look?”
“Fine,” she said with a nod.
They prepared to wander to another spot for more pictures.
Suddenly a man with a camcorder walked up, beaming, and asked, “May I take a photo, miss? It’s free.”
Luo looked at Su Bai Zhu; she nodded. The man’s face lit up with joy, but he completely ignored Luo. Offering a free photo to a girl is a classic way to get her contact information—a hard‑to‑refuse proposition, especially when the girl’s as gorgeous as Su Bai Zhu.
“Miss, stand right here, I’ll take your picture.” He smiled broadly, admitting that despite having photographed many beauties, she was the first that truly stunned him.
His smile quickly turned awkward when he saw that the girl, as radiant as a fairy, had already slipped her hand into Luo’s, completely ignoring the stranger.
Su Bai Zhu glanced at Luo, then said coolly, “What are you doing? Let’s just do a group photo—free, of course.”
- Writer
