IJLHTW - 2

The usual spot was a quiet bar, where a blues singer on the small stage nearby was singing a moving French song, every syllable seemingly infused with French romance.

“A glass of water,” Huo Ci handed over a cup.

The bartender took the cup, glanced at her, and said, “Haven’t seen you here in a while.”

“Went abroad,” Huo Ci’s fingers tapped rhythmically on the bar counter. The singer was singing the song, and apparently, she knew it too. Traveling around the world frequently, she had picked up some French over time and could sing a few lines.

When Lao Xia handed the cup back to her, Huo Ci traced a circle along the rim and asked, “Who was that just now?”

Lao Xia paused mid-wipe, then casually asked, “Who?”

“You know who I’m talking about,” she took a sip.

At that moment, the singer reached the final phrase, her voice like a whisper.

Lao Xia smiled wryly and said, “Huo Ci, that’s not like you.”

Not like her? Then what would be?

Huo Ci entered the photography world at 19 and became famous by 20. Whether famous or not, she had never been involved in rumors—no men, no women.

Not that models didn’t want to sleep with her—after all, she had status in the fashion world. But a cold glance from her could freeze even the warmest advances into ice shards. Those eyes were too cold and too piercing, exposing even the smallest intentions under the sunlight, instantly killing any romantic thought.

Of course, some genuinely liked her as a person—beautiful, well-proportioned, and even a one-night stand had a steady stream of admirers.

But she looked down on everyone.

This industry was dirty, but when people mentioned Huo Ci, everyone knew she was like a patch of pure white snow at the mountain peak—aloof, cold, almost emitting holy light.

Only worship was missing.

Yet many were still waiting for that snow to fall into the mud.

“Who is he?” Huo Ci looked up at Lao Xia, eyes sparkling with interest.

Lao Xia put down the glass and seriously asked, “Are you really interested?”

“So? What, is that not allowed?” she snorted.

Lao Xia shook his head and laughed. “It’s just a coincidence, your first time coming here and you happen to bump into him.”

But thinking again, the guy really was one in a million—both in looks and proud aura. The fashion models really couldn’t compare. Putting them side by side would only insult him.

Coincidence it may be, but in this vast world, isn’t every meeting a coincidence?

“Then he’s lucky,” she said.

Lao Xia laughed loudly at this—this was the Huo Ci he knew: cold on the surface but wild at heart. And when she said that, she made it sound like it was only natural.

“He asked me to shoot for him, but you know I haven’t touched a camera in years. If you’re interested, I can hook you up,” Lao Xia said.

Huo Ci raised an eyebrow. She knew the photography business well.

She didn’t ask what kind of shoot, but her mind wandered back to that perfect inverted triangle silhouette—the broad shoulders, narrow waist, and long legs. She wondered if peeling off the white shirt would reveal abs and a six-pack.

“He went to make a phone call, just wait,” Lao Xia poured drinks for other customers.

Huo Ci quietly waited. Just as she thought he had left, she saw him walking out from the dark corridor on the opposite side—his shadow tall and sculpted. As he stepped forward, the light fell on his face, making her squint.

A narrow face, thick eyebrows, and deep-set eyes—so distinct even from a distance.

Earlier, when he was sitting there showing only half his face, she had stared at his prominent nose for quite some time.

Now, he walked closer, as if the light was chasing him.

And all the women in the bar’s eyes followed him too.

He was the kind of man who made every woman’s heart flutter, yet he was cold, radiating a distant rejection from inside out.

“Mr. Yi, you came just in time. Didn’t you say you were looking for a photographer? I think my friend here is a better fit,” Lao Xia said dutifully, introducing as soon as he arrived.

Huo Ci looked at him as he frowned, scrutinizing her.

Seeing neither of them make a move, Lao Xia quickly added, “Mr. Yi, this is Huo Ci, the most famous photographer right now. You can’t go wrong hiring her.”

Unexpectedly, the man pulled out his phone, and in front of Huo Ci, typed her name in the search bar.

After reading her profile, he looked up, cold and unapologetic: “I’m sorry, Miss Huo, you may be famous, but you don’t meet my requirements.”

“You are not the photographer I’m looking for.”

…

Lao Xia was stunned. He hadn’t expected such blunt rejection.

But after saying this, the man left.

In a difficult moment, the girl sitting on the high stool suddenly stood and chased after him.

Outside, she didn’t see him and immediately asked the security guard at the door, “Where is he?”

The guard was confused as people had been coming and going; he didn’t know whom she meant.

Huo Ci snapped angrily, “The most beastly one.”

The security guard immediately understood and pointed to the left, saying the car had just driven off.

Huo Ci got into her own car and floored the accelerator, the roaring engine sound especially piercing in the midnight air. She stared intently ahead; there weren’t many cars on the road now. Soon, she saw a Maybach, and she pursed her lips slightly, then smoothly tailgated the Maybach and overtook it from behind.

If the Maybach hadn’t swerved aside in time, the two cars would have collided.

When the two cars were side by side, she rolled down her window a little, but the Maybach showed no sign of stopping.

She didn’t try to cut him off again but drove alongside him. When they reached a traffic light up ahead, the green light was already flashing, meaning it was about to turn red, so they wouldn’t make it through. As expected, the Maybach slowed down, and Huo Ci seized the chance to hit the gas hard and overtake it. She then braked and turned the steering wheel to the right.

Her car stopped just in front of the Maybach, with two cars behind keeping a good distance, clearly wary of some rich second-generation feud spilling over and dragging innocent bystanders into trouble.

Huo Ci jumped out and knocked on the car window.

When the window rolled down, half of the man’s sharply sculpted features were bathed in warm yellow streetlight, while the other half was still shrouded in the dim interior. Under his prominent sword-like brows were deep black eyes; it was only now that Huo Ci noticed just how bright his eyes were.

The man furrowed his brows tightly—obviously, Huo Ci’s reckless behavior was irritating him.

“How do you know I’m not the one you’re looking for if you haven’t even tried me?” Huo Ci looked at him calmly.

The man slightly tilted his head, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

He thought her desperate chase was out of anger or humiliation.

But he didn’t expect she was here to convince him.

“You’re too commercialized,” the man said lightly, his tone this time calm and no longer dismissive.

Huo Ci placed her hand on the car window, preventing him from rolling it up.

She looked into his dark eyes, steady and quiet.

Her nature was stubborn; if she couldn’t achieve her goal, she wouldn’t give up.

“You won’t find anyone more suitable than me.”

That sounded arrogant, but coming from her, it wasn’t arrogance—it was confidence.

She was simply the best. That was her confidence. It was also why she had risen in this dazzling world.

“The person I’m looking for must audition first,” the man said, raising his eyes to meet hers calmly.

Auditions, by definition, were for selection. Models needed to audition, photographers too. But auditions were for rookies; no ordinary photographer was treated like this, especially not a famous one like Huo Ci. For her, an audition was an insult.

She stared into his deep eyes and said, “Fine.”

He didn’t expect her to agree to even that.

He nodded. “I will contact your agent.”

At that moment, the green light came on, and the Maybach started up, driving around her car and away.

**

After sleeping for an entire day, Huo Ci finally woke up late the next afternoon.

She reached for her phone on the bedside table. There were thirteen missed calls from Bai Yu and seven from Mo Xingchen. She replied to one message casually, and the other end quickly answered, asking, “Awake now?”

“Anything?” She got up and pulled back the curtains. The setting sun’s afterglow spilled in, bringing a unique autumn melancholy.

Bai Yu chuckled, “Just wanted to remind you, shooting starts at 9 tomorrow morning. They’ll come for makeup at 8, so don’t be late.”

She softly responded with a hum and sat on the window ledge. Suddenly, she asked, “Did anyone call today to ask me to shoot?”

“Isn’t it every day someone calls you about shoots?” Bai Yu scoffed, thinking she must still be groggy for asking such a dumb question.

Huo Ci said seriously, “Someone named Yi.” She had forgotten to ask his full name earlier.

The voice on the other end paused, then laughed, “Oh, that guy! I was annoyed just thinking about him. He actually wanted you to audition without even checking our status. I immediately turned him down.”

Hearing that, a flash of anger surged in Huo Ci’s chest.

“I’m giving you one minute. Call him back now and tell him he’s mistaken. I accept auditions.”

Bai Yu was shocked and raised her voice, “Huo Ci, if this leaks out, you’ll ruin your reputation!”

“Go now, right now,” Huo Ci said firmly, her voice burning with anger.

Bai Yu, always afraid of her temper, hurriedly made the call. Five minutes later, Bai Yu called back to confirm the audition was scheduled for 9 AM the day after tomorrow.

After hanging up, Huo Ci’s phone buzzed again — a message from Mo Xingchen on WeChat, an explosion of texts:

“What happened last night? You just left suddenly.”

“You didn’t seriously fall for that insanely handsome guy, did you? Send me a bed photo quick.”

“It’s been ten hours — you’re not still in his bed, are you?”

Huo Ci glanced back at her pristine white bed and licked her lips.

**

The next day during the shoot, Huo Ci stared expressionlessly at the fresh-faced male model opposite her, forcing the poses.

By 4 PM, shooting wrapped up. The model’s agent approached, wanting to invite her to dinner, but Bai Yu blocked the invitation, saying she needed to prepare early for tomorrow’s shoot.

The agent looked pleased, “Teacher Huo, you’re really dedicated. We look forward to working with you again.”

After they left, the studio assistant came over to ask who would handle post-production this time. Huo Ci was packing up her camera and frowned, “Doesn’t matter.”

“Xiao Ci, the other party sent the location for tomorrow’s shoot,” Bai Yu said, looking down at her phone. After staring at the address for a while, she asked, “What kind of place is this?”

Huo Ci picked up the phone and checked the address—sure enough, it was in the suburbs, a two-hour drive.

“I’ll go by myself tomorrow,” she said.

Bai Yu immediately protested, “How can that be? We don’t even know who they are. I have to come with you.”

The next day, when Bai Yu saw Huo Ci downstairs, he nearly dropped his jaw.

She was wearing a black knit dress that revealed only her white ankles. The dress hugged her figure perfectly. Her perky chest and slender waist were emphasized, and a slit on one side of the skirt ran up to her knee, revealing her fair, slim leg. It made people want the slit to go even higher just to see those long, straight legs beneath. Her curvy, exquisite figure was simply unfair.

But that wasn’t all. When she turned to open the car door, Bai Yu caught a glimpse of her back view.

He was speechless and asked in confusion, “You’re going to shoot like that?”

Of course not—she was going to seduce.