IJLHTW - 3

Bai Yu was disappointed. The man who came to pick them up was driving a black Audi, and from his voice, Bai Yu guessed he was the assistant who had been calling him. But the man’s appearance was not disappointing at all—wearing a light gray suit, tall and slim, and quite handsome.

Originally, because of the audition, Bai Yu wasn’t planning to be polite to him. But when he saw the man, he softened.

Who could help but soften when someone looks that good?

“Hello, I’m Yang Ming, Mr. Yi’s assistant. We’ve been in contact before,” he said politely, extending a pale, slender hand, holding it in the air waiting for Bai Yu to shake.

Bai Yu happily and without hesitation shook his hand. Huo Ci watched him feeling disappointed at his lack of backbone. Bai Yu had seen all sorts of strange things in the fashion circle, but this kind of polished playboy look was the one he found hardest to resist.

Yang Ming personally drove them over because the place was too remote.

Huo Ci rarely said much, and Bai Yu was driving, so neither spoke.

The road conditions worsened, but fortunately, today they were in Huo Ci’s SUV.

Still, the ride was bumpy and irritating.

…

Instead of shooting a glamorous fashion magazine, they insisted on coming to this place to “experience life.” Although he complained inwardly, Bai Yu dared not say anything. Their good cooperation was precisely because he never interfered with Huo Ci’s choices for shoots. They even opened a studio together, already making waves in the fashion world.

He was the manager, but Huo Ci was his golden goose.

The surroundings could be called a wasteland without exaggeration. Next to piles of discarded building materials was a pothole-filled pond. It had rained a few days ago; the pits were so deep that the rainwater had yet to drain. After driving a bit more, they saw a construction site with giant cranes roaring.

Huo Ci quietly watched outside the window.

Bai Yu tried to hold back but couldn’t help saying, “What kind of place is this?”

What kind of place? The most common and overlooked places in the city. Construction sites that everyone passes by daily without a second glance.

Finally, the car stopped in front of a row of abandoned single-story houses. The peeling, mottled concrete shell revealed red bricks inside. In front was a lone water faucet sticking out in midair, beside several plastic basins. Not far away was household trash, banana peels limp on the ground, covered with black mold spots. Even without getting out of the car, they could smell the pervasive stench in the air.

After Yang Ming got out, he came over and knocked on her car window.

“Miss Huo, this is the location for your audition.”

No theme, no characters, no background — nothing. Yang Ming’s exact words were, “You can interpret it freely.”

Huo Ci quietly took out her backpack and the bag specifically for lenses.

She put the bag on the car hood and unzipped it — inside were black cases neatly holding various camera lenses. She took out the camera and quietly adjusted it.

Bai Yu was used to her cold, indifferent demeanor when working.

But his heart was unsettled. He walked over to Yang Ming and quietly asked, “What exactly is your boss looking for? Honestly, I know Ming Sheng Pharmaceuticals is a huge corporation, but our Huo Ci is also very reputable in the industry. I don’t know if I’m boasting, but her schedule is booked until the end of the year.”

The business card Yang’s assistant gave him listed the title “CEO Assistant of Ming Sheng Pharmaceuticals.” Bai Yu was secretly pleased. After all, he had heard of Ming Sheng’s name; their advertising campaigns were everywhere, even in prime time on CCTV. Though not as high-end as international luxury brands, pharmaceutical companies are known for lavish spending.

But after a short while, looking at this place, Bai Yu couldn’t believe it was for an advertisement shoot.

It looked more like some kind of documentary.

Bai Yu was scared by his own thought.

Yang Ming shook his head and explained softly, “This is not meant to trouble Miss Huo.”

Anyone they invited, even those personally requested by Mr. Yi, would be brought here to shoot. Mr. Yi also personally screened the candidates but has yet to find the right person.

Is this a photographer audition or a bride selection? Bai Yu thought bitterly. Not that he was bragging about Huo Ci, but countless celebrities specifically requested her for shoots. Even if her schedule was full, they could wait.

Yet, encountering such a difficult client, Huo Ci surprisingly wasn’t angry.

Bai Yu didn’t know what spell she was under, but the usually cold woman was cooperating so smoothly.

“Miss Huo is very composed,” Yang Ming glanced at Huo Ci adjusting the camera’s focus.

The audition demand from Mr. Yi was very offensive—many photographers simply refused to show up. Even those who came for Ming Sheng’s name did so begrudgingly or with disdain, every line on their faces saying, “Just wait, I’ll prove my work is better than yours.”

In the end, Mr. Yi rejected everyone.

Yang Ming thought he might never find the person he wanted.

So when Bai Yu asked about him, Yang Ming only smiled and said little.

Thinking about his boss’s background, he felt that a man like Mr. Yi was a realist idealist in real life.

________________________________________

At 2 PM, Yi Zecheng returned to the company after a morning visit to Ming Sheng’s research center. The center, newly built at the start of the year, cooperates with national institutions with an initial investment of 200 million yuan. After entering his office, he hung his suit jacket on the rack and dialed an internal line for his secretary.

After the secretary briefed him on today’s visitors, she added, “Assistant Yang didn’t come to the office today.”

He nodded and asked her to leave, then took out his phone to call Yang Ming. “Still not finished?”

There was a long pause before a low voice replied, “Mr. Yi, it might not end today.”

“So long?” he was surprised.

Yang Ming briefly described the situation, saying he didn’t know where the boss had found this lady but that her temper was extremely difficult.

Earlier, they had disturbed her train of thought and were coldly reprimanded by her.

When she turned back to look at them, her jet-black eyes were icy cold—so sharp they felt like they could pierce straight into one's heart.

“I see,” Yi Zecheng said and hung up the phone.

He sat in his chair, lost in thought. He had looked at many candidates, but none had ever been willing to invest this much time. He glanced at his watch—it was 2:15 p.m. By this time on previous occasions, Yang Ming would have already returned with a report.

Two hours later, a Maybach quietly drove into the ruins. The surrounding area was full of active construction sites, except for this spot, which had been delayed due to issues with the contractor. Several rows of brick houses remained, now occupied by workers and their families.

He parked not far away and looked at the black Mercedes SUV ahead.

In the sunlight, a woman stood on top of the black SUV, wearing a long black knitted dress. She was turned sideways, her tall figure well-defined by the snug fabric. As she slightly turned, her bare, pale back was revealed. Just standing there, she looked like a picturesque scene.

Golden sunlight bathed her skin, almost like a divine glow.

Yi Zecheng rolled down the car window slightly, picked up a cigarette pack beside him, lit one, and took a drag.

Cigarette between his fingers, he smirked: So this is how photographers dress these days?

He stared at her until he finished the entire cigarette. She didn’t move an inch.

It was already October—autumn—but the sun still burned fiercely in the late afternoon. It was now 4:00 p.m., and the heat was relentless. He looked around and spotted Yang Ming’s car parked farther away.

Yang Ming looked worried. “Is Miss Huo going to be alright like that?”

Bai Yu, holding a toothpick in one hand and a bowl of fruit Yang Ming had driven to the market to buy, sat in the air-conditioned car.

He stabbed a piece and popped it into his mouth—cool and sweet. “She’ll be fine.”

He knew how extreme photographers could be—climbing snowy mountains, diving deep oceans, carrying gear weighing tens of kilograms just to get the shot. This was nothing. Last year, if he hadn’t physically stopped her, Huo Ci would’ve gone to photograph in Damascus, Syria.

“Maybe she should eat something? She hasn’t eaten all day,” Yang Ming offered. He had asked Bai Yu earlier—Huo Ci had only drunk water in the morning. At noon, Yang Ming brought back food from the market; Bai Yu had eaten plenty, but she hadn’t touched a bite.

Yang Ming hesitated, looking up at the unmoving figure on the SUV—then a sudden knock on the window startled him.

Turning, he saw Yi Zecheng standing outside.

Just as Yang Ming was about to get out of the car, the woman on the roof—frozen like a statue before—suddenly turned around. She stood high above, and Yi Zecheng looked up, seeing only her silhouette against the backlight.

Then, suddenly, Huo Ci raised her camera and pressed the shutter.

Yi Zecheng watched as she lowered her gaze to inspect the photo on the camera. He walked over, expression cold, head tilted up. “Delete that photo.”

He didn’t like being photographed—especially not without permission.

Huo Ci slowly sat down. She had been standing for too long, baking under the sun. When she closed her eyes, Yi Zecheng immediately knew she was having an episode of acute vertigo.

“Come down, now,” he said, brows furrowed.

Good thing she sat down slowly. Otherwise, she might’ve fallen off the car.

Her legs dangled over the window; the camera was now resting on the car roof. After a while, she opened her eyes again. When she looked at him, her black eyes sparkled with an almost teasing smile. “Worried about me?”

Don’t flatter yourself, Yi Zecheng sneered.

Then, glancing down, he saw her exposed calves under the knitted dress—slender and blindingly fair.

“Carry me down. I’m scared,” Huo Ci said, extending her hand.

She could’ve said “help me down,” but no—she wanted to be carried.

Yi Zecheng looked at her outstretched arm—the black sleeve of her knitted dress pushed up to the forearm. Her hand was larger than most women’s, with long fingers and visible calluses from years of camera work.

Yang Ming and Bai Yu arrived just in time to hear her say that.

Bai Yu’s heart skipped a beat. It was his first time meeting Mr. Yi, but just one look told him this man was not someone to mess with. Handsome, yes—but also cold. When his gaze swept over Bai Yu’s face earlier, even in this blazing heat, Bai Yu had shivered.

But now he understood why Huo Ci was so determined to take this job.

Blinded by lust, utterly blinded.

“Come down on your own,” Yi Zecheng said, voice quiet and flat.

“Oh,” Huo Ci replied softly. Then, using her hands to steady herself, she leapt down.

Bai Yu was startled, heart leaping into his throat. “Be careful!”

The Mercedes G65 was nearly two meters tall, after all.

Huo Ci landed squarely in Yi Zecheng’s arms. He was really tall—she, at 172 cm, had to look up to meet his eyes.

His large hand gripped her waist firmly. Even through the fabric, she could feel the heat radiating from his palm. His hands were big and strong—when she jumped, he had caught her effortlessly. Her own hand rested on his arm, firm and solid beneath his clothes, warm enough to send a shiver through her.

Staring into his handsome face, her stomach fluttered. A strange, indescribable sensation coursed through her body.

“You told me to come down myself, didn’t you?”

She smiled sweetly. He smells so good.