FQ chapter 44

Although Luan Ye said he might not film, when they returned to Xuehu Village, he bought a Sony FX3 and a bunch of accessories—clearly planning to shoot video.

Even he was a little surprised when Fan Qing helped carry it all back.

He remembered how, when he first arrived in Xuehu, he only had a long-focus lens he grabbed at random. At the time, he figured there wouldn’t be much left to shoot anyway.

Now, after less than two months, he’d taken portraits, street shots, gotten both zoom and telephoto lenses—now even planning to move from stills to video.

And he had a boyfriend.

That boyfriend was now sitting behind him, helping him study the new camera.

It was a lazy afternoon. Neither had gone out. Fan Qing sat on the sofa, and Luan Ye leaned against him like he had no bones, resting his head on Fan Qing’s chest while fiddling with the new camera, adjusting the settings one by one.

“This one’s for video?” Fan Qing asked.

“Yeah. But I’ve never used it before.” Luan Ye turned on video mode and slowly adjusted the ISO. “Gotta experiment.”

Fan Qing wore a crew-neck T-shirt. Luan Ye had just washed his hair and left it down. The ends tickled Fan Qing’s skin. He twirled a lock around his finger a couple times.

“Have you decided?” Fan Qing asked. “Li Hongkuo called me yesterday. I told him you were still thinking.”

“I am still thinking,” Luan Ye smiled. “Just bought it to play with. If I can’t shoot there, I’ll try shooting something else.”

Luan Ye’s hair was soft and carried a faint scent of shampoo. Fan Qing couldn’t resist burying his face in Luan Ye’s neck and taking a deep breath, mumbling, “Shoot what?”

“You.”

Fan Qing froze. “Huh? Shoot what of me?”

“Just you, like this—touching me and rubbing up against me,” Luan Ye said with a smile in his voice. “Bored?”

Fan Qing was a little embarrassed. He buried his head in Luan Ye’s shoulder. “I just… can’t help wanting to touch you.”

Luan Ye chuckled softly. Fan Qing laughed too and asked:

“Am I distracting you?”

“Not at all.”

Luan Ye smiled, set the camera aside, turned to face Fan Qing and sat on his lap, holding out his hands. “Go ahead, touch all you want.”

Fan Qing laughed, held Luan Ye’s waist, and leaned in to kiss him.

Luan Ye’s lips were soft, and the warmth from his waist passed through the shirt into Fan Qing’s hands. Even through the fabric, he could feel the lean lines of his body—without an ounce of extra fat.

Fan Qing tightened his grip, unable to resist turning over and pressing down, squeezing Luan Ye between himself and the back of the sofa, and biting Luan Ye’s lips.

This time, just tugging on pants wasn’t going to cut it. Fan Qing’s Adam’s apple bobbed twice, and his voice came out hoarse.

“About… what you mentioned last time.”

Luan Ye’s voice was low too. “Hmm?”

“About….helping me.”

Two seconds later, Luan Ye let out a muffled laugh.

Fan Qing’s face flushed from the laughter, and just as he was about to say something more, he realized Luan Ye’s hand had already slid down to his abdomen, groping him over his pants before smoothly pulling the drawstring and slipping inside.

Fan Qing felt like his heart stopped for a second in sync with his breath.

As Luan Ye’s hand moved, Fan Qing’s breathing grew more labored—clearly audible between them. He couldn’t stop his own hand from slipping under Luan Ye’s shirt, caressing hard along his waist.

Luan Ye let out a low groan, voice thick.

Without the barrier, the warmth and softness of skin were directly transmitted to his palm. Fan Qing’s breathing grew heavier, his hand sliding down from the waist to the lower abdomen, then further.

…

The phone rang just as Fan Qing had retied the drawstring of his sweatpants.

The normally ordinary vibration sounded especially loud and urgent now, the phone nearly jumping off the table. It startled him, and he quickly turned to glance at it.

It was Li Hongkuo.

Though a bit dense, Li Hongkuo was quite receptive to Luan Ye and Fan Qing’s suggestions. He called every day to discuss the details of paper products, from large items like paper umbrellas to small ones like bookmarks. Every detail from production to design was double-checked, fearing the final photos wouldn’t turn out well.

Since Luan Ye hadn’t left his contact info, all calls went through Fan Qing. The communication was constant, day and night, very eager to learn.

“Damn…” Fan Qing cursed softly, then picked up the phone.

This call was also about paper products. Li Hongkuo rambled, saying the previous production technique had been updated. The notebooks and bookmarks with flower patterns were done, and some paintings had been completed. But things like paper lanterns and umbrellas still had issues to be discussed.

“How about I come by tomorrow morning, bring everything for you guys to see?” Li Hongkuo said. “Then we can talk face to face?”

Fan Qing glanced at Luan Ye and replied, “Sure.”

Luan Ye was still lying on the sofa with his eyes closed. Fan Qing leaned over, hugged him tightly, and whispered, “Scared me to death. If that call had come five minutes earlier…”

Luan Ye chuckled with his eyes still closed. “Would’ve scared you limp?”

Fan Qing laughed softly, burying his head into Luan Ye’s shoulder again.

“Li Hongkuo’s coming tomorrow to talk.”

“Got it. Have him come to the tea room.”

“Then you…”

“You talk to him,” Luan Ye said, still a bit hoarse. “I’ll listen in.”

Fan Qing lifted his head. “Me?”

“If he’s asking about photography, then of course I’ll talk to him. But now he wants to discuss the products—you were the one who came up with those ideas, weren’t you? The umbrellas, the lanterns, the ornaments.”

“So you talk to him first,” Luan Ye said.

Fan Qing gave an “oh,” then after a moment asked, “If he doesn’t have these things… we really can’t take the photos?”

Luan Ye finally opened his eyes and looked at Fan Qing.

“If we had to, we could. Just like those photos someone else took before. Find an angle, edit, adjust colors. But there’s no point in that.”

“The problem with his studio isn’t something that can be solved with pretty pictures. Landscape photography follows nature. Commercial photography needs to meet a demand. His studio’s demand is survival. So compared to me, the stuff you suggested might be more useful.”

Fan Qing looked at Luan Ye, who gave a small smile. “Work hard, kid.”

….

“The things made so far are great—I’ve shown them to a few people I know, and they all said tourists would love them.”

Li Hongkuo seemed in much better spirits. Even his voice was more energetic.

“It’s just that stuff like the paper lanterns, fans, and umbrellas—we don’t know how to make the frames. Yang-jie and I tried several times, but none worked.”

Fan Qing thought for a moment. “What if you outsourced the frames? The studio just handles the final paper application.”

“Thought of that.” Li Hongkuo scratched his head. “But where do we get just the semi-finished frames? Order them online?”

Luan Ye slowly sipped his tea while listening, eyes fixed on Fan Qing.

He looked unusually mature for someone only eighteen or nineteen—serious, thoughtful.

After a moment, Fan Qing said, “There’s a bamboo weaving shop in town, been open twenty or thirty years. Sells baskets, sieves, that kind of thing. They probably know how to make lamp frames and fan ribs too.”

“We can go ask.”

Li Hongkuo responded after a pause: “You mean that place selling farm stuff? I remember it from middle school. But—do you think it’ll work?”

“They sell stuff for rural labor.”

“Let’s ask first,” Fan Qing said firmly. “If not, we’ll look elsewhere.”

Luan Ye smiled and nodded. “Then let’s ask first.”

Li Hongkuo immediately stood up. “Let’s go now?”

“You two go,” said Luan Ye. “I’ll stay.”

Fan Qing immediately turned to look at him.

“I want to study the camera,” Luan Ye said. “Still need to ask some people about it.”

After a few seconds, Fan Qing nodded.

“We’ll be right back.”

“Mm.” Luan Ye smiled. “Take your time.”

Li Hongkuo, full of energy, was already halfway out the door. “Hurry up! The shop’s gonna close!”

…It’s the middle of the afternoon! What kind of stall closes now?! Did you forget your studio’s name?!

Luan Ye laughed and patted Fan Qing’s butt, motioning him to go.

Li Hongkuo stood at the tea room door, unable to do much more. Fan Qing followed him out.

Actually, Fan Qing had wanted to ask—who was Luan Ye planning to consult about the camera?

Could it be Bai Mingcheng?

But in the end, he didn’t ask. The reason… maybe because he was afraid Luan Ye would say yes.

As they reached the alley entrance, Fan Qing suddenly stopped.

“I forgot something.”

Li Hongkuo asked immediately, “Huh? What? Is it important?”

“Pretty important.” Fan Qing turned back. “Give me three minutes.”

He walked through the alley, back to the small courtyard. Inside the tea room, Luan Ye was still in front of his laptop. Hearing footsteps, he turned his head and raised an eyebrow when he saw it was Fan Qing.

“Hm?”

No one else around, Fan Qing walked over, lifted Luan Ye’s chin, and kissed him deeply.

Though a bit surprised, Luan Ye lifted his head and returned the kiss.

Worried that Li Hongkuo might come back in a panic, Fan Qing kept his promise of “three minutes” and ended the kiss after just ten or so seconds. As he pulled away, Luan Ye laughed.

“You came back just for that?”

“Yeah.” Fan Qing smiled. “Wait for me.”

“Got it.” Luan Ye patted his cheek. “Go on.”

After Fan Qing left, the courtyard quieted down again.

Granny Mu had gone out to chat and embroider, Qiao Feibai was singing in another village—volunteer performance—so only Luan Ye was left at home.

He stayed in the tea room a while longer before going upstairs and messaging Xu Song, asking if he was familiar with the FX3 camera.

Xu Song was likely off that day and replied quickly.

Xu Song: [Of course I’m familiar. We use it all the time for shooting.]

Xu Song: [But you don’t shoot video. Why are you asking about this?]

Luan Ye, having nothing better to do, roughly explained: he was helping a local intangible cultural heritage studio shoot a promo video—about papermaking.

After a while, Xu Song called directly. Luan Ye answered, and the first thing Xu said was, “Are you okay?”

Luan Ye chuckled. “What could be wrong with me?”

“Then what’s with this—helping shoot memorial portraits, now this cultural heritage promo…”

Xu Song sounded incredulous.

“Did you become a village official in Yunnan?”