Chapter 18

Today, we had agreed with Shen Jianqing to wander around the village, taking photographs for our field research records and evidence.

By the time the scheduled hour approached, the others still hadn’t finished preparing. I fiddled with my camera on the lower-level corridor while waiting.

Luckily, I had spare batteries and a power bank. If I conserved energy, the camera could easily last another week or so.

“Can I see that?” Shen Jianqing’s dark eyes sparkled as they focused on the camera hanging from my chest.

I handed it over immediately. “This is a camera. Have you seen one before?”

“A camera…” he murmured. “I’ve seen others use one in the Dongjiang Miao village. But I didn’t dare go near them.”

These past few days, spending time with Shen Jianqing, his Mandarin had improved by leaps and bounds. His pronunciation was still slightly halting at times, but far more accurate than before.

I said, “It lets you capture scenes you find meaningful or beautiful—whatever you like. And now we can even see photos taken hundreds of years ago, learning about history through them.”

He looked at me in awe, eyebrows raised high.

Catching sight of his unusually refined face, I suddenly remembered a photo I had taken without thinking.

“I’ll show you something,” I said, bringing up the camera’s gallery. Soon, I found the photo I had taken of Shen Jianqing’s profile beneath the stilted house.

I had wanted to give him this photo for some time; today, I finally could.

Shen Jianqing’s eyes widened. “This… this is… how come I didn’t know?” His face gradually flushed, delicate eyelashes trembling slightly, eyes glimmering with a soft light that felt almost hypnotic.

I panicked internally. I had simply wanted to show him a photo I liked, not imply anything else.

Stumbling over my words, I said, “I-I didn’t take it on purpose… I just saw it and… and took it. Don’t read too much into it.”

“Oh, I see.” A faint disappointment flickered on his face, but he forced a small smile. “Can you teach me how to use it?”

“Of course!” I leaned closer, holding the camera up to him. “You try.”

Shen Jianqing looked intensely curious. He took it, poking at buttons randomly, but the screen remained black—he hadn’t even turned it on. He was focused, serious, and still carried the trace of a child’s innocence in his features. The way he handled the camera reminded me of a child discovering a new toy.

He tilted the camera toward me, asking, “Why isn’t anything happening?”

The small glint of silver on his moving face caught my eye, sending a ripple through me. I quickly looked away and said, “You have to hold this button down first.”

I pointed to the switch on the side of the camera. Shen Jianqing followed my instructions, but his fingers brushed against my palm almost imperceptibly.

The touch was cool, leaving a faint ripple of sensation and a subtle thrill.

His fingers were long and pale, knuckles distinct. Nails healthy and pink. But I noticed calluses across his fingertips, and tiny marks at the joints of his index finger—two small round punctures, as if bitten by insects rather than cut.

“Li Yuze, Li Yuze?”

His calm, steady voice drew me back. Shen Jianqing asked with concern, “Are you alright? You were staring at my hand.”

“Sorry, I guess I was just too sleepy,” I offered a lame excuse. “I’ll show you once more, then you try.”

I powered on the camera, switched to photo mode, and guided Shen Jianqing step by step.

“Okay, once you’ve framed what you want, press this…” I demonstrated, and his focused gaze followed every movement.

I casually aimed the lens at a corner of the stilted house and pressed the shutter.

Click!

The moment was captured.

“See? That’s it. You’ve taken a photo.”

Shen Jianqing’s eyes lit up as he took the camera, staring at the frozen image of the stilted house. My shot had caught the closed bedroom door and the slightly open bamboo window, the quiet, muted blue-gray tones giving the house a serene, secluded feel.

“Wow, amazing,” Shen Jianqing said, eyebrows raised, mimicking my actions. He was sharp; after only one demonstration, he had already learned how to operate it.

He scanned the camera screen, searching for views he liked, and I let him explore.

“Li Yuze!”

He called my name suddenly.

Thinking something was wrong, I instinctively turned—and click! The image froze.

Shen Jianqing moved the camera away from his face, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

He turned the screen toward me proudly. “Look at this! How’s my shot?”

On the screen, I was frozen in surprise, standing amid the shadowed forest. The dim light made the scene look like a bottomless, dark eye, the only bright spot my white shirt. The image felt strangely eerie.

“You did great,” I said, forcing a compliment. Shen Jianqing’s face relaxed completely, a delighted smile spreading across his features.

Little did I know then, the photos he took that day would haunt my dreams for a long time.

By then, Qiu Lu and the others finally came down the stairs.

“We’re late! So late!” Wen Lingyu said, flustered but smiling. “We overslept—yesterday was just too tiring!”

Qiu Lu pouted playfully, her round eyes blinking between apology and teasing. “It’s your fault for making the bed so soft. Once you lie down, you can’t get up!”

I had already grown used to this.

Xu Zirong stood behind Qiu Lu. “What are you two doing? Taking pictures?”

“Teaching Shen Jianqing photography. He’s really interested,” Qiu Lu said.

“You haven’t seen these things before, Shen,” she added. “When you come to Yancheng, I’ll show you even cooler stuff!”

Shen Jianqing raised an eyebrow, noncommittal.

A light rain had fallen last night, leaving the air humid and fresh. The dirt paths through the fields were muddy, and we slipped repeatedly. Wen Lingyu almost fell into a field, but I caught her just in time.

“You okay?” Shen Jianqing glanced back, his eyes falling on my hand, still holding hers.

There was no emotion in his gaze, just a flicker that I sensed as disapproval. I withdrew my hand instinctively before my brain could catch up.

Beyond the tilled fields lay a wide embankment. A few girls were playing there, around fifteen or sixteen years old. One looked familiar—it was the little girl we had seen before.

Her eyes lit up when she saw us, and she jumped up, waving. The silver necklace around her neck jingled with her movement.

“Ah na! Ah na!”

Clearly, she wasn’t calling for us.

Shen Jianqing frowned, lips pressed tight, his gaze heavy and unresponsive.

The girl broke away from her friends and ran straight to him, hugging his arm tightly. “Ah na!” she said sweetly.

I guessed “Ah na” must mean “older brother” in Miao. Earlier, Shen Jianqing had said he wasn’t close to her, but her enthusiasm suggested otherwise.

She jabbered at him, pointing with a delicate finger toward the stilted houses on the nearby slope.

Shen Jianqing shook his head impatiently.

The girl pouted and muttered something under her breath. He sighed silently, then nodded slowly.

Her face lit up, and she tried to pull him forward. Her body leaned so hard into the tug it looked like a tiny ox at work in the fields.

Shen Jianqing freed himself and said helplessly, “I have some things I need to do. I can’t go with you. Look around yourselves, but don’t wander too far—I’ll be back soon.”

The girl continued chattering and tugging, eventually deciding to run along with him anyway.

I watched Shen Jianqing’s reluctant back; clearly, he hadn’t wanted to go with her. Though I couldn’t understand their conversation, his body language showed initial refusal, followed by a quiet concession.

I had no desire to pry into others’ privacy, so we four just stared at each other. The girls she left behind on the embankment looked curious and timid, then finally scurried off in a small group.

“They’re still scared of us,” Xu Zirong said.

Qiu Lu placed her hands on her hips. “Shen Jianqing’s gone; let’s explore on our own. Much more fun this way!”

I said, “Then let’s wait nearby. Shen Jianqing should be back soon.”

The others agreed.

Qiu Lu and Wen Lingyu sat by the edge of the embankment, dangling their feet into the pond and occasionally splashing water.

“Come sit!” Qiu Lu called to me.

“I’m going to walk around a bit,” I replied.

Qiu Lu pouted and said to Wen Lingyu, “It’s just the countryside, what’s so special? Honestly, it’s no different from any other village… oh, wait, maybe it is!”

Wen Lingyu played along with Qiu Lu’s teasing, prompting her to elaborate.

Qiu Lu smiled. “There’s no electricity, no internet—it’s boring as anything!”

The two of them laughed their way along the path.

I had little to chat about with them, so I wandered along the ridges between the fields, looking for meaningful spots that reflected the Miao culture.

I wandered aimlessly through the fields and soon found myself back at the stone bridge draped with red silk ribbons.

In the subtle breeze, the ribbons fluttered gently, like countless departed souls dancing in the wind.

The scene, framed by the distant green mountains, was as picturesque as a painting.

I quickly raised my camera, adjusted the lens, and captured the moment with a click.

I took several shots, flipping through them—all beautiful. I zoomed in on the details: the azure sky, rolling hills, verdant fields, and the scarlet ribbons. Each ribbon bore crookedly embroidered Miao characters, each symbolizing a life once vibrant but now gone.

Suddenly, my eyes froze.

Among the layers of red ribbons, one faded ribbon had been lifted by the wind, revealing the characters on it.

Shen.

A neatly written “Shen.”

Shen… Jianqing?

I looked up sharply. I had always assumed Shen Jianqing’s surname was a transliteration from Miao, never expecting it to be a Han Chinese name!

Could his father—or mother—be Han?

I lowered the camera and searched the bridge according to the photo. There it was, right at the center. The crooked, hand-stitched character “Shen” gave me a strangely intimate feeling.

Perhaps we weren’t the first outsiders to visit this Miao settlement. But someone had left their name here; the red ribbon had long since faded, suggesting it had been many years ago.

I wandered around a bit more, photographing the scenery. Surrounded by beauty, my restless mind gradually calmed. I thought that resting eternally here might not be such a misfortune after all. Too bad Qiu Lu and the others hadn’t followed—what a shame.