On the third night after Zhao Jing’s departure, Wei Jiayi had mostly completed his photography work. However, he wasn’t entirely satisfied with some of the shots, so he decided to extend his stay by an extra day, further compressing his already tight schedule. With time running short, he opted not to return home and instead planned to head straight to the next city for work.
Traveling from the country where Buderus Island was located to his next photography destination required three connecting flights, meaning he wouldn’t arrive until late the following night. Wei Jiayi packed his belongings, using the same hiking backpack as before—though it was now a bit dirtier. The bag felt heavier, weighed down by the expensive camera Zhao Jing had forcibly taken from Li Mingmian.
After zipping up his bag, Wei Jiayi took a shower and lay down on the bed. He received a message from Pan Yifei.
For some reason, Pan Yifei had been reaching out to him frequently over the past few days. Wei Jiayi had ignored the earlier messages, but tonight’s was about scheduling a work collaboration. He decided to reply: “You can directly contact my agent. But if you finalize the schedule and then cancel abruptly again, it’s better not to work together in the future.”
Right after sending that, he edited a message to his agent: “If Pan Yifei’s agent contacts you, just say our schedules don’t align and decline it for me.”
Just as he was about to put down his phone and go to sleep, Zhao Jing poked him on WeChat.
Although Zhao Jing had physically left two days ago, it seemed his presence still lingered, as he occasionally checked in on Wei Jiayi’s daily schedule.
Replying to Zhao Jing’s messages was always a challenge. Ignoring them wasn’t an option, and half-hearted responses wouldn’t suffice either. Wei Jiayi had to carefully craft replies that maintained a strictly professional tone, avoided any hint of ambiguity, and yet didn’t make Zhao Jing feel dismissed. He found himself racking his brains, resorting to coaxing and trickery. At times, he felt like he’d rather be back in high school tackling exam questions.
What made matters worse was Zhao Jing’s habit of making Wei Jiayi initiate conversations. At least once or twice a day, Zhao Jing would “poke” him repeatedly until Wei Jiayi was forced to say something first. If Wei Jiayi tried to ignore him, Zhao Jing would simply send more pokes, making it impossible to pretend he hadn’t noticed.
At first, Wei Jiayi assumed Zhao Jing was just bored and restless at home. However, he soon realized that wasn’t the case. Zhao Jing wasn’t lounging idly—he was often in the middle of meetings or busy with work when they chatted.
This became evident from the photos and videos Zhao Jing sent, where Wei Jiayi could catch glimpses of other people in the background or hear their voices.
But tonight, Zhao Jing started the conversation himself: “I just switched to a new crutch—no longer an underarm,” attaching a photo.
The picture featured a gray crutch, seemingly made of metal, with Zhao Jing’s office visible in the background. Wei Jiayi recognized the desk, the floor, and the wide-open space in the room.
Less than 100 hours after Zhao Jing had left, Wei Jiayi felt as though he had practically toured Zhao Jing’s entire workspace through the photos and videos Zhao Jing had sent. If there was anything he hadn’t seen yet, it wasn’t because the material was lacking—it was simply because the place was enormous.
“It looks very sleek.” Wei Jiayi replied mechanically: “It must be incredibly handy to use.”
Zhao Jing responded: “Mm. Wu Rui told me you’re not taking my plane back. Why?”
They had spent so much time together over the past half-month, constantly in each other’s company. Now, with just a single short message, Wei Jiayi could vividly imagine Zhao Jing’s expression.
Two days earlier, Secretary Wu had contacted Wei Jiayi to arrange his travel itinerary. When Wei Jiayi declined the offer, Secretary Wu had tried to persuade him multiple times, explaining how difficult it would be to handle Zhao Jing if his request wasn’t fulfilled.
Wei Jiayi knew he needed to create some distance between himself and Zhao Jing, hoping to let this inexplicable surge of romantic interest fade away. Accepting the private plane was simply not an option. However, he also sympathized with Secretary Wu’s difficulties, knowing all too well how challenging Zhao Jing could be. So he replied: “Just say it’s me who refused. I’ll explain it to him myself.”
Seeing how resolute he was, Secretary Wu thanked him.
Now, considering Zhao Jing’s inquiry, Wei Jiayi composed his reply: “I made the decision too late. I just wrapped up my shoot this afternoon and finalized plans with the team to meet directly at the next work site. I didn’t want to trouble Secretary Wu, and my ticket was already booked. I’ll still use your helicopter in the morning—thank you so much for that.”
Zhao Jing replied after a brief pause: “No need to thank me.”
“Chef Li’s cooking was also excellent.” Wei Jiayi added: “Thank you.”
Before Zhao Jing could respond, he sent another message: “I’m heading to bed now. Goodnight.” He added a smiley face.
When Zhao Jing answered with a simple “Goodnight,” the matter was officially closed.
When Wei Jiayi arrived on the island, he had taken a five-hour direct flight followed by a transfer to a seaplane. In his memory, the journey felt swift and straightforward. But the return trip was far more rough, almost impossible to describe. It had been years since he’d experienced so many flight transfers in a single day.
After disembarking from the helicopter early in the morning, Wei Jiayi spent the entire day navigating airline counters, switching terminals, and passing through endless security checks. Just as the ringing in his ears from the last flight’s pressure change began to subside, his next plane would take off again.
The final flight was delayed by two hours due to bad weather. Wei Jiayi found a quiet corner at the airport and called the art director of the brand he was scheduled to shoot for the next day. They discussed the theme of the shoot until it was time to board.
During the flight, Wei Jiayi managed to nap briefly, only to be jolted awake by the landing. He glanced at his watch—it was already 11 PM. Outside the airplane window, the night stretched endlessly into darkness.
The late-night flight carried few passengers, and the pathways through the small airport were short.
After a full day of travel, the backpack on Wei Jiayi’s shoulders felt even heavier. As he approached the exit, he spotted his assistant, Xiao Chi, who he hadn’t seen in over half a month.
While Wei Jiayi had been away, Xiao Chi had dyed his hair blonde. Dressed in the lightweight down jacket Wei Jiayi had given him, he held a cup of hot drink in one hand. When he saw Wei Jiayi emerge, Xiao Chi smiled brightly. “Jiayi-ge, you’re finally back!”
At that moment, the reality of leaving the island truly hit Wei Jiayi. His mind shifted from the disaster-stricken island to the fashion shoot site for the upcoming season.
By tomorrow, the humid rainy season of the South Pacific island would be a distant memory. Life would once again return to the fast-paced frenzy of flashing cameras, shutter clicks, modern music, and elegantly dressed models.
Wei Jiayi walked over, draped an arm around Xiao Chi’s shoulder, and took the hot drink from him. He complimented Xiao Chi’s new hair color and then methodically checked to ensure all the equipment had been brought along, just like every other work trip before.
Xiao Chi responded promptly and explained that the rideshare driver was already waiting in the ground parking lot.
With the warmth of the drink in his hands, Wei Jiayi walked out of the terminal alongside Xiao Chi, his steps unsteady like a toddler.
The cold wind of late November blew across his face and into his sleeves, sweeping him back to his normal work, normal busyness, and the normal life he had before departing for the wedding on the island.
By the time he had a moment to check his phone, it was already 2 AM on the next day when the shoot had wrapped up.
After a busy day, he returned to the hotel with his assistant and the lighting technician, his voice hoarse from the work. Wei Jiayi was so drained that not only did he forget about Zhao Jing, but even if someone mentioned Zhao Jing’s name, he’d have to think for a moment to remember who he was.
After a quick shower, Wei Jiayi collapsed onto the bed, too tired to move. Lifting a finger, he scrolled through the messages on his phone, reading them at a sluggish pace.
His agent had sent two messages, letting him know that the brand was very satisfied with his work today and encouraging him to keep up the effort tomorrow.
Wei Jiayi replied: “Okay.”
Several group chats were buzzing with messages from friends who had learned he was back from the island. They asked when he’d be free, saying it had been a long time since they’d seen him and they wanted to meet up.
Wei Jiayi sent a screenshot of his packed flight itinerary and typed with some effort: “Postponed for now.”
Scrolling further, he noticed a message from Zhao Jing sent at 3 PM, buried under the flurry of notifications. Clicking on it, he saw that Zhao Jing had poked him in the morning and followed up in the afternoon to share that his brace had been removed.
Wei Jiayi guessed that Zhao Jing was probably already asleep. He initially planned to reply the next morning but then reconsidered. A response at 2 AM would look more sincere and emphasize how busy he was with work, subtly discouraging Zhao Jing’s enthusiasm for initiating conversations. Plus, since Zhao Jing was unlikely to reply at this hour, it would also avoid another round of back-and-forth exchanges. It was killing two birds with one stone. He typed: “That’s great news. You’ll be fully recovered in no time.”
Then added: “Sorry I missed this earlier. I’ve been swamped during the day.”
After hitting send, Wei Jiayi’s mood improved greatly, easing some of his exhaustion. Just as he was about to sleep, his phone lit up and vibrated with an incoming call. Two large words appeared on the screen: Zhao Jing.
The smile froze on Wei Jiayi’s face as if caught in a nightmare. He checked his watch in disbelief, stunned for a few seconds before answering the call.
“…Wei Jiayi,” Zhao Jing murmured his name in a slurred voice, followed by some incoherent mumbling that Wei Jiayi couldn’t make out, and then there was silence.
Wei Jiayi held the phone, staying completely still. It felt as though Zhao Jing was right in front of him, and he didn’t dare to move.
On the other end, Zhao Jing’s breathing was barely audible. After waiting for a while with no further words, Wei Jiayi exhaled in relief, deducing that Zhao Jing must have been woken by the notification sound, mustered enough energy to make the call, but drifted back to sleep before saying anything.
Wei Jiayi couldn’t make sense of his own feelings. What was absolutely certain, however, was that there was no possibility of giving Zhao Jing the response he wanted. Still, as he listened to Zhao Jing’s heavy breathing, a strange sadness crept over him. He stayed on the line for several minutes before finally ending the call.
Since he had to wake up early the next morning for work, Wei Jiayi managed less than four hours of sleep.
He slept deeply, without a single dream. When he opened his eyes, his first thought was, “Zhao Jing’s sleeping quality must’ve rubbed off on me after that call.” Without wasting a moment, he grabbed his phone to check if Zhao Jing had woken up again during the night.
Seeing no new notifications, he got out of bed and began his morning routine.
Facing the mirror, Wei Jiayi was still dazed, distracted by Zhao Jing’s sleep-talk at two in the morning. He nearly squeezed toothpaste onto his hand and jabbed his toothbrush into his eye.
After getting dressed, he heard his phone buzz again. Glancing at the screen, he saw that Zhao Jing was calling.
He answered immediately. Zhao Jing sounded like he had just woken up, his voice hoarse as he said, “Wei Jiayi, I dreamed that I called you. Then I woke up and realized I actually did.”
“I probably woke you up by replying to your message. I finished work late and thought you’d already be asleep. Sorry,” Wei Jiayi explained. Still concerned that Zhao Jing might’ve stayed up waiting for his reply, he asked, “What time did you go to bed yesterday?”
“Around 10:30,” Zhao Jing answered casually. Wei Jiayi felt relieved before hearing him ask, “What did I say on the phone last night?”
“Nothing much. You called my name and then fell asleep,” Wei Jiayi left out the part where Zhao Jing had mumbled incoherently.
At that moment, Xiao Chi knocked on the door. Wei Jiayi walked over to open it.
Xiao Chi had brought him some food since the hotel’s breakfast service hadn’t started yet. Seeing him on a call, Xiao Chi placed the bread on the table and whispered, “Jiayi-ge, are we leaving in ten minutes?”
Wei Jiayi nodded.
Zhao Jing heard this on the other end and asked, extremely vigilantly, “Who?” His voice lost its raspiness and grew louder. “Is there someone with you? Who is it?”
“It’s my assistant, Xiao Chi,” Wei Jiayi replied, almost laughing.
After hearing that, Xiao Chi gave Wei Jiayi a glance before leaving.
Once the door closed, Zhao Jing spoke again, his voice quieter this time. “Wei Jiayi, are you going to be busy all day again?”
Though he couldn’t see Zhao Jing’s face, Wei Jiayi could tell from his tone that he was unhappy. Pretending not to notice, he said, “Yeah, I’ll be shooting all day. I probably won’t have time to check my phone.”
Zhao Jing said nothing but chose to act angry instead.
Wei Jiayi felt a headache forming but couldn’t just hang up. After thinking for a moment, he added to reassure him, “But I should be wrapping up earlier today.”
“How early?” Zhao Jing asked immediately.
“I can’t say for sure yet.” Wei Jiayi paused to consider a way to end the call. Before he could, Zhao Jing spoke again. “I remember you saying you’d fly back on Sunday for a day. Did that schedule change?”
Wei Jiayi couldn’t recall the details himself. After a brief pause, Zhao Jing prompted, “Check your airline app.”
“Oh, oh.” Wei Jiayi said, “No changes to the plan.”
Zhao Jing said, “I’ll come pick you up.”
“No need to go through so much trouble. When I get back, I still need to have dinner with the team, so I might not have time to visit your museum on Sunday,” Wei Jiayi politely declined. But every word he spoke became increasingly difficult, his speech slowing down noticeably. “I’ll get in touch with you when I have some free time, okay?”
“Oh, it’s fine if you can’t come this time.” Zhao Jing continued talking on his own. “I’ve got a gift for you. Call me after you’re done eating.”
His tone was perfectly casual as if he hadn’t noticed Wei Jiayi’s evasiveness at all.
The sky was starting to lighten, and Wei Jiayi felt a heaviness on his chest. Maybe it was because of filming at a high altitude, but hearing Zhao Jing’s voice left him feeling a little out of breath.
Suddenly, Zhao Jing’s handsome yet hard-to-please face flashed through his mind.
There was never a dull moment with Zhao Jing. Wei Jiayi couldn’t even stay silent for two seconds before Zhao Jing confidently added, “Don’t ask what the gift is. You’ll find out when the time comes.”
Mysterious and self-assured. Wei Jiayi could only respond, “Alright.” Without thinking too much, he thanked Zhao Jing a few times.
Then Zhao Jing mentioned he needed to get up, so they ended the call. That was a good thing. But soon, something bad happened: Wei Jiayi sat down, quietly ate half a piece of bread, and realized he really wanted to know what gift Zhao Jing had prepared for him.
Author’s note:
Evasion failed!
Zhao Jing is hella cute, maybe his sincerity will move Wei Jiayi
Thanks for the chapter <3333