When Xiang Xi returned to his little room, Liu Yuanping was squatting at the door next door, smoking a cigarette. Seeing him arrive, he immediately stood up: “Hey, you’re back.”

The stairwell had no lights. Cheng Boyan had walked Xiang Xi back, and the two hadn’t spoken the whole way. Xiang Xi had been thinking about Cheng Boyan’s last few words, lost in thought, and was startled by Liu Yuanping’s voice.

“Damn,” he stepped back a couple of paces. “Why are you out here?”

“We had a fight, got kicked out,” Liu Yuanping chuckled.

“You two still fight?” Xiang Xi hesitated, opening a door. “Want to come in for a bit?”

Liu Yuanping stepped into his room and handed him a cigarette. “Hey, in about half an hour, I should be able to go in.”

“How long have you been at the door?” Xiang Xi asked, lighting his own cigarette.

“Two and a half hours,” Liu Yuanping sat at the foot of the bed leaning against the wall. “Usually three hours is about right.”

“Seeing how close you two usually are, even sitting in class stacked together, you’d think you’d never fight,” Xiang Xi said, putting his camera bag by the pillow and shoving his backpack into the cupboard. “And yet you can still argue?”

“The better it is, the more you fight; the closer you are, the more you argue,” Liu Yuanping said, holding his cigarette with a knowing expression.

Xiang Xi said nothing. He felt there was some truth in that, but not entirely. He thought he and Cheng Boyan were pretty close, yet they had never argued…

Of course, someone like Cheng Boyan couldn’t be argued with anyway. Even if someone tried to provoke him, he’d just call the police without a word. Xiang Xi certainly couldn’t argue with him. Even when Cheng Boyan didn’t contact him for a few days, he worried he might lose this friend.

Thinking of Cheng Boyan, he recalled those last few words: “Just like before.”

Like before… what was it like before?

And now… what is it like now?

“Eh?” Liu Yuanping noticed the camera bag by the pillow. “Got yourself a camera?”

“…Yeah, borrowed from a friend.” Xiang Xi took the camera over.

“Can I see?” Liu Yuanping asked.

“Go ahead,” Xiang Xi smiled.

Liu Yuanping seemed knowledgeable about cameras. He picked up the camera and raised an eyebrow.
“60D, huh? Nice camera. Your friend’s generous. If I had a 60D, I wouldn’t lend it to anyone.”

“Is it expensive?” Xiang Xi asked tentatively.

“Just the body costs a few thousand,” Liu Yuanping peeked again in the camera bag. “This dual-lens kit? Easily ten thousand.”

“Holy crap!” Xiang Xi was shocked, quickly taking the camera from him. “Stop playing with it!”

Liu Yuanping laughed: “You really… had no idea how much this costs, huh?”

“No idea, just thought it was high-end,” Xiang Xi said. He truly hadn’t expected Cheng Boyan to lend him such an expensive camera to ‘play’ with. “If I’d known it was this expensive, I wouldn’t have taken it.”

“Good for you. You’ll see the difference once you try it. After this, you won’t even want to touch those compact cameras,” Liu Yuanping laughed. “This stuff can only go high, not low—once you start, it keeps burning money.”

Xiang Xi wanted to say he had never even touched a compact camera.

The door next door opened, and a bag of trash was thrown to the doorstep.

“Alright, I’m heading back,” Liu Yuanping jumped off the bed and patted Xiang Xi’s shoulder. “One day, use this camera to shoot a proper set for me and Zhao Tong.”

“…Okay.” Xiang Xi didn’t feel confident. Besides knowing how to turn it on and press the shutter, he knew nothing about this camera, let alone taking a proper “set.”

Liu Yuanping closed his door, and Xiang Xi went to close his own.

Sitting cross-legged on the bed, Xiang Xi looked at the camera again and thought of Cheng Boyan’s words. But after a moment, his attention fully turned to the camera.

Such an amazing camera! So many lenses! Almost as big as Fang Yin’s monster lens!

With a camera like this, you’d be embarrassed not to learn properly before pressing the shutter!

Cheng Boyan’s words? Forget them. Just like before, just like before… anyway, it’s not something you can figure out by thinking…

So many buttons, what are they all for?

Xiang Xi took out the instruction diagrams Cheng Boyan had drawn, lay on the bed, and looked through the camera one by one. Then he aimed the camera at the walls, cabinets, and lights in the room and took a few shots. He also tried switching lenses to see the difference in the photos.

The phone rang. Xiang Xi carefully placed the camera on the bed, then pulled out his phone. It was Fang Yin.

He suddenly remembered he hadn’t told Fang Yin that he didn’t want to shoot anymore and answered the call, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Xiao Zhan?” Fang Yin’s voice came through.

“I forgot to call you,” Xiang Xi leaned against the wall. “I saw all the photos on your blog…”

“Any thoughts?” Fang Yin asked.

“Yes, many,” Xiang Xi thought for a moment. “Too many. So… I don’t want to shoot anymore.”

Fang Yin was silent for a moment before saying: “I had a feeling you might say that when I asked you to take a look.”

“Sorry. If you need a refund…” Xiang Xi instinctively reached for his backpack in the cabinet.

“No, no, no, no need. Not necessary,” Fang Yin smiled. “If you don’t want to shoot, just… don’t. But I’ll keep the photos; you don’t mind, do you?”

“Why keep them?” Xiang Xi asked.

“After all, they’re the result of a long effort. If someday you have a new idea, or… if I want to change the perspective, maybe I can still select the right ones.” Fang Yin said. “Your sense of framing is excellent; maybe we’ll collaborate again in the future.”

“Then keep them,” Xiang Xi smiled. “Anyway, thanks. I’m living in the apartment you rented.”

“Not much, and I gained from it too. Though it is a pity, quite a pity,” Fang Yin said with a laugh. “If you need anything in the future, you can ask me. I’ll help if I can.”

“Ah, yes! Now!” Xiang Xi quickly said, flopping onto the bed, leaning over the camera. “Tell me, how do you use the aperture?”

“Aperture?” Fang Yin was momentarily confused.

“The one on the camera. How do you adjust it? What’s it for?” Xiang Xi asked.

“This might be hard to explain in a few sentences,” Fang Yin tried. “Aperture controls the size of the lens opening, regulating the amount of light entering. For example, to shoot with depth of field, usually you use a large…”

“I don’t understand. What’s depth of field?” Xiang Xi looked a bit lost.

“Depth of field… okay, here’s how: it’s when you look at a photo and can see layers—from near to far, the near part is clear, the far part is blurry. That’s depth of field,” Fang Yin explained.

“Oh, I think I get it. Can you explain aperture more simply?” Xiang Xi fiddled with the camera.

“A large aperture makes the image bright; a small aperture makes it dark,” Fang Yin used the simplest explanation. “Combined with shutter speed, take a few shots and you’ll get it. If you really want to learn, you can come to my studio… Why the sudden questions?”

“A friend lent me a camera to try,” Xiang Xi smiled.

“Playing with a point-and-shoot first, then jumping to a DSLR (NT: Digital Single-Lens Reflex, advanced camera) ?” Fang Yin laughed. “Is it Doctor Cheng?”

Xiang Xi paused. “You know Doctor Cheng?”

“Ah,” Fang Yin also paused. “He…”

“He contacted you? Did he?” Xiang Xi sat up, asking quickly.

“You didn’t know?” Fang Yin was a bit surprised and quickly explained. “We just happened to meet at the hospital… I ran into him there.”

“Was it him who asked me to see the photos?” Xiang Xi hadn’t expected Cheng Boyan to have contacted Fang Yin.

“He didn’t say it directly, but… we talked a bit,” Fang Yin thought. “He was looking at it from a friend’s perspective; I was from a collaborator’s perspective. I think what he said makes sense.”

“Got it,” Xiang Xi whispered.

“I didn’t know he hadn’t told you. But your friend is really a friend. Don’t mind that he didn’t tell you.”

“I don’t mind.” Xiang Xi said.

Yes, he didn’t mind. Why would he?

Cheng Boyan had secretly contacted Fang Yin. Xiang Xi realized Cheng Boyan might have guessed something, and not only guessed but had quietly done all this.

If someone is willing to help you like that, why mind?

If he were to mind, it would only be that he didn’t have the ability to do the same for Cheng Boyan.

After hanging up, Xiang Xi stared at the camera for a long time.

What merit do I have?

Cheng Boyan can do so much for me.

He picked up the camera, turned over on the bed, aimed at the ceiling light, adjusted the aperture and shutter speed, and took a few shots.

He saw the light.

*

Cheng Boyan, wearing headphones, was running on the treadmill, drenched in sweat. He hadn’t run for a long time; today, he left work on time, and there was nothing else to do.

After running on the treadmill for almost an hour, Cheng Boyan got off and played with the dumbbells for a while.

Over the past week, Xiang Xi called every day to report his experiences with the camera, telling him what he didn’t understand. Cheng Boyan would look it up online, print it out, and Xiang Xi would pick it up over the weekend.

After that day, Xiang Xi basically returned to his normal state. When he saw Cheng Boyan, he no longer avoided eye contact; the awkward expressions and uneasy behaviour were finally gone.

This made Cheng Boyan breathe a sigh of relief.

He felt he had been too impulsive that day, just like Lin He had said—he had jumped in before figuring anything out.

But judging by Xiang Xi’s attitude toward Tan Xiaokang, once he bit he was immediately ready for Xiang Xi to swing a chair at him—but Xiang Xi just ran away.

Ran off like a little monkey (NT: describes someone fleeing quickly and agilely).

He didn’t want to scare Xiang Xi again. Now, whatever he wanted to do, Xiang Xi probably wouldn’t refuse. He knew very clearly his place in Xiang Xi’s heart.

But precisely because of that, he didn’t intend to push things.

It was his habit to be clear about everything he did—why he did it, whether it was impulsive or because he liked someone. He had to confirm each thing, one by one.

On the weekend, Xiang Xi came over early in the morning. Cheng Boyan was still sleeping with his head under the covers. Xiang Xi rang the doorbell repeatedly.

Cheng Boyan got up to open the door. Xiang Xi, carrying a bag and holding a bundle of noodles and vegetables, said: “Good morning! Yesterday I learned to cook noodles with Zhao Tong; I’ll make you breakfast.”

“Who’s Zhao Tong?” Cheng Boyan asked, letting him in while yawning.

“Liu Yuanping’s girlfriend,” Xiang Xi replied, changing shoes and putting the noodles down in the kitchen. Then he ran out to get some disinfectant to rub his hands. “A student from a nearby school.”

“What kind of noodles?” Cheng Boyan smiled.

“Green pepper, tomato, and egg noodles with sauce,” Xiang Xi said proudly, walking toward the study. “The pants I changed into are here, right?”

“Mm,” Cheng Boyan replied. As Xiang Xi hadn’t yet entered the study, Cheng Boyan pulled his pants down while hopping inside; Xiang Xi quickly looked away.

“Still sleeping?” Xiang Xi asked, having changed pants and seeing Cheng Boyan back in the bedroom, door ajar.

“Can I still sleep at this point?” Cheng Boyan replied from inside.

“I’ll cook the noodles. How many eggs do you want to add…?” Xiang Xi pushed the door open, and before finishing his question, he saw Cheng Boyan standing by the bed, changing clothes, already naked from the waist up and holding his underwear. Xiang Xi froze at the doorway, then stammered: “How many eggs?”

“Two,” Cheng Boyan looked at him. “Do you have a lot?”

“Holy cow!” Xiang Xi finally came to his senses, closed the door, and shouted from outside, “I have eight! They jingle as I walk!”

“Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way…” Cheng Boyan started singing.

Xiang Xi ignored what he was singing and strode into the kitchen.

These days, he had calmed down a bit. Seeing Cheng Boyan no longer felt awkward, but when he looked at him in full, he suddenly felt dizzy.

Cheng Boyan had looked at him twice.

Now Xiang Xi looked back once.

Cheng Boyan’s body was in good shape, muscles firm but evenly long…

What the hell am I thinking?! (NT: literally “What the hell is your grandpa thinking about his mother?”; colloquial exclamation of shock and embarrassment)

“I’ll just add one egg,” Cheng Boyan came out of the bedroom, already dressed. “Don’t break it.”

“You even change your underwear first thing in the morning?” Xiang Xi couldn’t understand Cheng Boyan’s habits.

“Why? I hadn’t thought that your work clothes went half a month without being changed,” Cheng Boyan smiled and went into the bathroom.

“I’ve already changed them, okay!” Xiang Xi was indignant. “I didn’t change mine because I had no spares…”

“There are free-range eggs in the fridge,” Cheng Boyan said, brushing his teeth and coming out. “I don’t know if they’re real, try a few.”

“Mm.” Xiang Xi nodded and took out some eggs from the fridge.

Cheng Boyan didn’t have high expectations for Xiang Xi cooking noodles, but after washing up, he leaned by the kitchen door and watched him work.

“Don’t observe me like that. I get nervous, and when I’m nervous I’ll definitely mess up the pot,” Xiang Xi said while cooking.

“Mm.” Cheng Boyan turned back to the living room, sat at the computer, and looked at the previously printed photography notes. He had simplified the overly technical content into plain language. Xiang Xi should understand it if he could read the characters.

When two bowls of green pepper, tomato, and egg noodles with sauce were ready, Cheng Boyan saw Xiang Xi’s expression and knew the noodles had, as usual, been a bit of a disaster.

“Not sure if I missed a step; it tastes different from what Zhao Tong made,” Xiang Xi said, frowning.

“It smells good,” Cheng Boyan mixed the noodles.

“I knew you’d praise me,” Xiang Xi laughed. “Not sure if I lack taste buds or brains.”

“Short of speech when eating someone’s food” (NT: you can’t complain when benefiting from someone else). Cheng Boyan smiled.

After finishing the noodles of uncertain taste, Cheng Boyan washed the bowls. Xiang Xi had taken the camera and sat at the computer, fiddling with it.

“First, teach me how to get the photos onto the computer,” Xiang Xi said. “I’ve taken a few, but I don’t know what they look like on the computer.”

“Mm, did you bring the data cable?” Cheng Boyan stood beside him. “It’s like using a USB drive; same as when you transfer songs from your phone.”

“Really?” Xiang Xi plugged in the cable. “I thought fancy gear would require some high-level operation.”

Following Cheng Boyan’s instructions, he created a folder on the computer.

“Give this folder a name. All your photos go in here from now on,” Cheng Boyan said.

Xiang Xi found naming a folder hard. He didn’t want it to be ordinary but couldn’t think of a clever one. Staring at the screen, he finally muttered: “Wake-up small pieces…”

Immediately he slapped himself lightly and muttered: “Ah! I’m crazy…”

“Works,” Cheng Boyan said seriously. “But to avoid confusion, yours will be called Small Piece Two.”

“Small what piece, small what piece…” Xiang Xi tapped the keyboard. “Just call it Photos! I can’t type complicated characters anyway!”

“Xiang Xixi’s small pieces,” Cheng Boyan said.

“Hey, you’re a lifesaving doctor. Can you be serious for once?” Xiang Xi looked at him.

Cheng Boyan didn’t answer, smiling for a while. Then he pointed at the screen: “Xiang Xi’s photos. Type them. Can you type?”

“Yes, just a bit slow,” Xiang Xi looked down at the keyboard, too lazy to chat. “I used to type one or two characters occasionally while gaming.”

“What characters?” Cheng Boyan asked.

“You’d get your head caught in a car window if you said it,” Xiang Xi said.

When he played games, it was always with Mantou. He rarely communicated with other players; except for typing to join a team or so, it was all insults. Words like “f*ck,” “your grandpa,” “stupid b*tch” he typed with ease…

Xiang Xi’s photos.

He used both index fingers to carefully type them in.

Then, following Cheng Boyan’s instructions, he saved all the photos from the camera into this folder.

“You can further categorize these photos; it’ll make them easier to find—by time, content, or satisfaction, etc.,” Cheng Boyan said.

“That’s too much trouble; just throw them in,” Xiang Xi said. He had never thought of doing anything so meticulously—probably only a doctor like Cheng Boyan would be so careful.

“Let’s leave that for later,” Cheng Boyan took the mouse from him and opened the photos. “I’ll look at them first.”

The first photo was just white.

“Oh, that was taken facing the light. I forgot to delete it,” Xiang Xi said, embarrassed. “I deleted all the poorly taken ones.”

Cheng Boyan didn’t say anything and clicked to the next photo.

When the next photo appeared on the screen, Cheng Boyan instinctively stopped his finger from clicking further.

The photo was of a window—old and not very clean—with tattered curtains on both sides whose colour was hard to discern.

Sunlight slanted through the window, divided by the railings into several patches, falling on a cluttered floor.

The composition wasn’t perfect; the edges revealed the bathroom door, the dusty table, a bed with pants thrown at the foot, and water-stained walls. But the brilliant golden sunlight in the center still stood out.

“This one’s really good,” Cheng Boyan said.

“I think so too,” Xiang Xi said, relieved. “I took probably fifty shots over several days. In the afternoons, the sun shines in this shabby room from the west. Every day after work I rushed back to the bed to take a few shots. This one was taken during an afternoon break; the sunlight was especially strong.”

“Just crop out the surroundings,” Cheng Boyan circled the edges on the screen.

“How do I crop it?” Xiang Xi asked. “I tried to avoid the sides when I first shot, but later forgot.”

“I’ll help you,” Cheng Boyan said. “Does this one have a name?”

“A name?” Xiang Xi leaned back in his chair, thought for a moment, then smiled: “I woke up in the afternoon, opened my eyes, and saw the light… does that count as a name?”

“…It’s still on-topic, let’s go with that,” Cheng Boyan nodded and opened the next photo.

This one was likely taken standing under a tree, holding the camera up. The leaves were dense and dark. Light filtered through the gaps between the leaves, flashing like stars.

“This one I’ll call… ‘After the storm, the leaves are still gray, but I saw the light,’” Xiang Xi tapped his fingers on the desk. “What do you think?”

“Good,” Cheng Boyan said. “Great.”

The next few were taken at dusk, likely after work. Light spots on the walls, on the floor, even on Xiang Xi’s legs.

“Skip this one,” Xiang Xi said, embarrassed, poking Cheng Boyan’s hand holding the mouse. “I was trying to photograph the scar on my leg.”

“I have a scar on my leg, but I see the light?” Cheng Boyan laughed.

“No,” Xiang Xi said, “since that day, I’ve been seeing the light.”

Cheng Boyan didn’t speak but reached out to ruffle the top of his head.

Xiang Xi’s hair was stiff, standing stubbornly short on his head. When touched, it pricked Cheng Boyan’s hand a little, like Xiang Xi himself.

“Petting a little dog?” Xiang Xi laughed. “There’s more—I took some practice shots for Liu Yuanping and Zhao Tong… not exactly professional shots, just practice, a preview.”

“Let me see.” Cheng Boyan opened the next photo.

The next few were at night, showing the young couple. In one, the girl stood in a doorway, the boy outside holding her hand. Xiang Xi had processed it surprisingly well. The messy hallway imagined in his mind was hidden in darkness; the door lit with light and the girl smiling inside looked very warm.

“Hold your hand, and I can see the light,” Xiang Xi laughed. “They love this one and asked me for it.”

“Put it on a USB for them,” Cheng Boyan opened a drawer and took out an unused USB drive.

“Mm,” Xiang Xi was happy. “On the camera, it’s hard to tell, but on the computer, zoomed in, it looks pretty good!”

“Very good. Didn’t expect you’d learn so fast,” Cheng Boyan said.

“Not that fast. You don’t know how many shots I took. I carry the camera at work, take shots during breaks, after work. Every day it’s charged, and the deleted shots outnumber these by hundreds… dozens… anyway, I took tons of bad ones.”

“Take a look at these; they should help,” Cheng Boyan handed him some printed materials. “Ask me about characters you don’t know.”

“So many,” Xiang Xi flipped through them. “I can read about one-tenth. I feel like my reading speed can’t keep up. I finished “Accompany Dad… one mother one supermarket stroll” and now I’m reading an English storybook, Grimm’s Fairy Tales.”

“Tired?” Cheng Boyan asked.

“Would I lie and say I’m not tired?” Xiang Xi said, looking at the materials. “I’ve never studied like this before—both tiring and annoying, and I can’t stop.”

“You’ve worked hard.” Cheng Boyan gently pinched the back of his neck twice.

“Feels good,” Xiang Xi turned his head. “All kneaded into a soft lump?”

“No.” Cheng Boyan smiled and gently pinched a few more times.

Xiang Xi didn’t speak. Tilting his head, he closed one eye in enjoyment, following the movements of Cheng Boyan’s hands, and let out a satisfied sigh.

 

Translator : DarNan