His Secret, Her Mystery -- She Knows Where the Wind Comes From

When the living room floor clock chimed, Luna was washing photos in the darkroom, tweezers gripping photo paper, gently swaying back and forth in a tray of developer solution. Beneath the rippling red surface, the white paper gradually revealed an image of a beggar sitting by the roadside eating biscuits, with the Huangpu River and the Oriental Pearl Tower in the background. Upon hearing the chime, Luna realized she had locked herself in the darkroom for three hours. Still unsatisfied. She dropped the tweezers, looked up at the dozen or so strings of photos hanging on the wall, countless images under the faint red light - people, still life, landscapes, urban scenes. She pursed her lips, exhaling heavily through her nose. All garbage. Luna grabbed her hair a few times, tore all the photos off the wall and threw them into the trash can, tearing them into pieces. She hurriedly walked out and slammed the door behind her, grabbed a cigarette and a Zippo lighter from the coffee table, quickly lit it, and took a deep drag. Through the exhaled smoke, Luna's gaze fell on the hollow glass cabinet in the living room, filled with various trophies - glass, gold-plated... Dubai Hamdan International Photography Competition Gold Award, Sony World Photography Award Gold Award, Global Chinese Photography Award, Hasselblad International Photography... the list goes on. In 301 days, she hadn't produced satisfactory work in 301 days. A bottleneck? Creative exhaustion? Squinting, Luna snapped out of her thoughts, the cigarette butt already subconsciously gnawed into bits. Dr. Fang once said that women who like to gnaw on slender objects have extremely strong s****l desires. Luna sneered and picked up her phone to check the messages, one from an hour ago, from "Mr. Eight-Pack Abs", saying: "Are you coming today?" "Mr. Eight-Pack Abs" was called Mathew, an acquaintance, a male underwear model with broad shoulders, narrow waist, bulging abs, and smooth legs, a huge lump in his white underwear. Half-closing her eyes, Luna took a long drag from her cigarette and swiftly replied, "Why not?" She had just finished showering when her phone rang. Wrapped in a towel, she went out to answer. It was Dr. Fang. She put it on speaker. "Luna?" "Yeah?" "What are you doing?" "Showering and getting ready for bed," Luna said, taking off the towel and pulling out a black lace bra from the wardrobe. "... I thought I heard the sound of the wardrobe door opening. Are you going out?" "No, I'm looking for what to wear tomorrow." In the mirror, Luna's body was snowy white, with ample t**s and a slender waist. Shaved down there, with a small patch of faint black. Putting on the transparent bra, nothing was concealed. The smooth lace covered the round fat ass halfway, and her legs were straight and slender, like lotus roots. At the other end of the phone, Dr. Fang obviously didn't quite believe her words: "Luna, you haven't been to my place for a week." "I've been feeling good lately." Luna raised her ankle, where there was a black snake-shaped tattoo, and with a flick of her toes, she hooked a black backless dress from the wardrobe. "Have you taken any satisfactory photos this week?" "No." That was the truth. "Do you ever feel particularly restless and want to tear things apart?" "No." That was a lie. "Had any s*x with anyone this week?" "No." That was the truth. "... Not even with yourself?" "No." That was a lie. "Have you met up with a few friends to chat and hang out this week?" "No." That was the truth. "Do you still feel the desire for excitement?" "... What kind of excitement?" "Spiritual, physical." "No." That was a lie. Putting on the long dress, snug and revealing her figure, exposing her smooth and beautiful back. Luna picked up a hairpin and casually tied her long hair into a bun. Black, cold, Luna could handle it. "That's good then," Dr. Fang said, "It seems like your symptoms are improving." Luna slightly opened her mouth, drawing her eyebrows in front of the dressing table mirror, too lazy to respond to Dr. Fang's soliloquy. Luna was someone very indifferent and cold towards interpersonal relationships. Dr. Fang's intrusive concern made her very uncomfortable. But her mother married her fourth husband two years ago, Jennifer's father. Jennifer was her stepsister, whether they were close or not, whether they were related or not. The phone was talking on the bed. After asking about Luna's condition, Jennifer switched to girls' talk mode: "Hey, let me tell you something. A few days ago, I met a friend. Her thoughts were quite novel. She, you know, has no stable relationships, her love life is flourishing, countless men around her. We think men are playing her; but in her eyes, she's playing the men." Luna casually wondered: why do women involuntarily open their mouths when applying mascara? "But in this world, there are never women who play men, only women who are played by men. That's the society we're in, dominated by men." Luna was applying lipstick, her smile somewhat cold, leisurely responding, "Is that so?" "Yeah, I'm curious how she withstands the strange looks from others," Jennifer continued, Luna finished her makeup, "Jennifer, I'm going to bed." "Then rest early. You must come to my place tomorrow. I need to confirm your condition. Otherwise, I won't be able to explain it to your mom." "I know." She hung up the phone slightly impatiently, packed up her camera and lens, grabbed a box of condoms from the drawer, and put on high heels before leaving. ** This routine check-in call had no effect on Luna's mood at all. Seeing the bustling city lights, feeling the cool yet hot early summer breeze, Luna felt like the wind was igniting her entire body. ** Luna pressed the doorbell. Ten seconds later, the door opened. "A snap" of a shutter sounded, Luna lifted her head from the camera. The man wore a towel around his waist, his abs bulging, his chest glistening, hair dripping. He came from the bathroom, exuding the scent of shower gel. He flashed Luna and the camera a bright smile. He pulled Luna into the house. "Worked out again?" Luna passed him, fingers stroking his abs a couple of times. Just as men like t**s and ass, Luna liked chests and abs. With a slight exertion from the man, his abs tightened up, and with a gesture of his fingers, he proudly said, "This might be the best you've seen." Luna glanced at him with the camera in her arms, her gaze lingering on his abdomen for a moment, she shook her head with a faint smile, "I'll see better in the future." "You won't," he laughed, embracing Luna and leaning down to kiss her neck. ** Luna and Mathew met six months ago in a photography studio. Luna had a friend who was a still photographer, shooting underwear ads for CK, and Mathew was the model. Luna saw Mathew for the first time. He was wearing only a pair of tight white briefs, half-lying against a plain backdrop, his body long and muscular, legs powerful and sturdy, with a sizable bulge in the middle, truly impressive. Mathew possessed a physique that would earn admiration from any photographer. Mathew also noticed Luna. Her face was cold yet sensual, unforgettable, especially her gaze, direct and sharp, devoid of emotion, like an indescribable icy object. It was as if she wasn't looking at a person but rather at a finely crafted wooden sculpture, a vast grassland. Luna met Mathew's gaze without hesitation, watching him shoot for over an hour. Afterward, Mathew changed clothes and Luna left. When he reached the parking lot, he saw Luna sitting in her car smoking, her smile faint behind the smoke, "Get in." That day, her car remained there for an extra two hours. They've been together for six months. Luna was reserved, not much of a talker. Apart from discussions about poses and photographic effects, they had no other topics. An hour later, Luna, wearing only high heels, reclined on the bed smoking, flipping through black and white photos on her camera. White curtains, black silhouettes. Intimate, tangled, distant, or eerie poses exuded a forbidden allure. She exhaled smoke slowly, her previously sluggish mind now clear. Mathew, not smoking, watched the smoke haze around her, her profile hazy. "You do this every time." "How so?" She glanced at him nonchalantly. "What does it feel like to smoke after s*x?" Luna smirked, "It clears my mind." After finishing a cigarette, she prepared to leave. "Luna." "Yeah?" "Don't leave today. Rest here." "Come on." "I'll make you a midnight snack, then you can leave." Mathew made rice wine dumplings, surprisingly tasty. Luna was surprised, "You can make this?" "Do you think I'm not versatile?" "With your physique, you could rely on it alone, no need for versatility." Mathew teased her, "I acted in a movie recently, my character makes these." Raising an eyebrow, Luna reached across, using her finger to lift his chin, left, then right, appraising, "Your face is good, comparable to a popular actor." Mathew chuckled, "Luna, maybe I'll become a star someday." "Great, congratulations." "...Luna, have you ever thought..." "Yeah?" "...about our future?" Mathew hesitated. "Rest assured, I won't screw you up. Let's end this peacefully." "..." "That's not what I meant. I think we can reconsider our relationship now, maybe take it further..." Luna's hand holding the spoon tensed, alarms ringing in her head. Thankfully, the table shook suddenly. It was Mathew's phone. Luna handed him the phone, but unexpectedly saw Jennifer's name and a message: "Are you asleep? Can we meet tomorrow?" She watched him reply, asking, "A girl?" "Yeah," Mathew joked, "You're not jealous, are you?" Luna didn't answer, asking, "Backup plan?" Hearing her tone change, Mathew stopped joking, "No, I don't like her." "Does she like you?" "Yes." "Is she pursuing you?" "Yeah." "When did it start?" "We were high school classmates..." "Have you slept with her?" "Of course not!" Luna looked at him without speaking. "She's serious about finding someone to marry, I can't take advantage of her." Luna remained silent for a few seconds, then said, "I'm leaving." Suddenly, Luna was fed up with the intricate connections between people. Luna drove around the city aimlessly for hours, like she forgot the way home. The late-night wind rushed in through the car window, desolate and cold. She didn't know where to go. Mathew's unfinished conversation, Jennifer's text, events from that year, the lifeless photos in the darkroom... She suddenly realized that she had lost all the joy she could pursue, spiritual, physical, worldly, vain. Her supposedly creative and wealthy life was actually hollow and meaningless in the eyes of others. She felt a bit restless again. She saw a faint golden glow in the distance in the dark night, like a door to the sky. Approaching, she saw a billboard divided into three vertical sections: azure sky, golden desert, poplar forest, verdant grassland, snowy mountains, azure lake, animals running in groups, endless. A powerful brushstroke pierced through the three sections: Qiangtang - Kekexili - Altun.