Trending topic alert: The mysterious fan site administrator of a top celebrity has been exposed.

Chu Yi didn't say anything more, but simply raised the camera again and aimed it at Zhou Ai, who had intruded into the frame.

His photography style remains fast, accurate, and ruthless; he hardly needs to think, his fingers frequently and decisively pressing the shutter, "click."

Unlike when he was instructing Zhou Jiashu, he did not provide any action guidance to Zhou Ai, but simply silently observed and captured her movements.

Zhou Ai seemed to need no guidance at all. He stood there casually, hands in his pockets, gazing into the distance. Sometimes he looked down at the rice stalks at his feet, or squinted slightly in the sunlight. Every moment and every angle seemed to be meticulously designed, yet also perfectly natural, as if he was born to be followed by the camera.

Zhou Jiashu was still happily flipping through the photos he had just taken, occasionally exclaiming "Wow!", completely unaware of the silent yet intensely tense shooting scene taking place on the other side.

After a while, Zhou Ai suddenly stopped what she was doing, raised her hand and pointed to a terraced field not far away: "Teacher Chu, I want to go there to take pictures."

Chu Yi looked in the direction he pointed. It was a rice paddy on higher ground, the rice ears were completely golden, shimmering with a full luster in the sunlight, and behind them were layers of green mountains in the distance, the scenery was indeed better.

"Okay," Chu Yi agreed succinctly.

Zhou Ai turned first and walked up the narrow, slippery ridge. Chu Yi followed behind him, protecting her camera with one hand and carefully watching her step. The rain from last night had made the ridge muddy and extremely difficult to walk on.

Chu Yi focused most of her attention on finding the best shooting angle and avoiding the mud and water. Before she knew it, she stepped on a rough bamboo pipe that was buried in the ground for drainage. The surface of the pipe was covered with wet and slippery mud, and she suddenly slipped.

He suddenly lost his balance and, in a panic, fell to the side, almost dropping the camera in his hand.

As if he had eyes in the back of his head, Zhou Ai, who was walking in front, turned around instantly with lightning speed, grabbed Chu Yi's arm firmly, and pulled him back forcefully.

Chu Yi staggered and grabbed Zhou Ai's forearm to barely steady herself, her heart pounding in fear.

"Be careful." Zhou Ai's voice came from above, with a hint of tension that was barely perceptible. He didn't immediately loosen his grip on Chu Yi's wrist.

Chu Yi, still shaken, gasped for breath: "Thank you..."

Zhou Ai looked down at his still somewhat pale face, then glanced at the culprit bamboo tube, his brows furrowing slightly.

He suddenly released Chu Yi's wrist, then deftly reached out and took the camera directly from Chu Yi's hand, his movements as natural as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"The road is difficult to walk on, let me hold the camera for you first." Zhou Ai said, hanging the camera around her neck, and then pulled down the cuff of her left-hand windbreaker, leaving a small gap in the cuff that was originally fitted.

He handed the cuff to Chu Yi, his tone casual yet sincere, as if he were simply offering the most practical solution:

"The paddy field ridges are slippery, why don't you... hold this one?"

Chu Yi stared in disbelief at the gray cuff offered to her. The empty cuff swayed gently in the mountain breeze, like a silent invitation.

Almost instinctively, Chu Yi immediately turned her head to look at the photographer who had been silently following them not far behind.

The photographer was diligently documenting everything, his lens unabashedly pointed at them.

Seeing the two of them looking at him simultaneously, especially Zhou Ai's seemingly calm yet incredibly imposing gaze, the photographer's hand holding the camera trembled violently. He quickly raised the lens, feigning great interest in the clouds, as if he hadn't captured anything at all.

The next second, Zhou Ai's lazy yet undeniable voice rang out, clearly piercing the air and striking the photographer who was trying so hard to act like a quail:

"Remember to cut it."

Photographer: "...Yes, Teacher Zhou!" His voice trembled slightly.

Zhou Ai then turned her gaze back to Chu Yi, who was still somewhat dazed, flicked the cuff of her sleeve, and raised an eyebrow: "Hmm?"

Chu Yi looked at the cuff, then at Zhou Ai's serious expression that said, "I'm just doing this for safety reasons, don't overthink it," and finally glanced at the photographer who looked like he wanted to bury himself in the ground.

He was silent for a few seconds, then, as if he had finally given in, he reached out and pinched the very edge of the empty cuff.

"...Let's go." Chu Yi looked ahead, but her ears slowly turned red uncontrollably.

Zhou Ai looked down at the hand gripping her sleeve, and couldn't help but smile.

He didn't say anything more, turned around, slowed his pace, and took... or rather, let that hand hold his sleeve, walking steadily step by step on the slippery paddy field ridge, towards that golden rice field.

The sunlight stretched their shadows long, intertwining them on the winding ridges of the fields.

Zhou Ai, who was in front, had a triumphant smile on her lips, while Chu Yi, whose ears were red, walked behind her cautiously, clutching an empty cuff.

Behind them, the unfortunate photographer carefully maintained his distance, his lens fixed on that exceptionally beautiful cloud in the sky, inwardly weeping: How the hell am I supposed to edit this?!

The two of them, one in front of the other, carefully climbed to the highest point of the rice paddy. The soil under their feet was still damp, but the view opened up, and the golden waves of rice seemed to connect directly with the distant mountains and the blue sky, magnificent and serene.

Chu Yi almost immediately loosened his grip on the cuff, which he had been holding until it was warm, his fingertips still feeling the rough texture of the fabric.

He tilted his head slightly, pretending to be attracted by the scenery in front of him, in order to hide the lingering heat in his ears.

"Here's the camera." Zhou Ai's voice came from beside him, his tone natural, as if the brief incident of him being tugged at by the sleeve had never happened. He took the camera off his neck and handed it back to Chu Yi.

Chu Yi took the camera, his fingertips inevitably brushing lightly against Zhou Ai's. He whispered, "Thank you."

"So how do we shoot?" Zhou Ai turned around, facing the boundless rice fields and distant mountains, and asked very cooperatively, even turning her head slightly to look at Chu Yi, looking obedient and saying "I'll do whatever the photographer says."

If his studio staff, who are constantly tormented by his pickiness and lack of cooperation, were to see the top star in this "at his mercy" state, they would probably be shocked.

Chu Yi adjusted the camera settings, his gaze sweeping across the surroundings and background through the viewfinder. His tone remained calm, carrying a professional detachment: "Whatever. Do whatever makes you comfortable, just be natural." He didn't offer much guidance, seemingly determined to be a quiet recorder.

Upon hearing this, Zhou Ai raised an eyebrow and smiled, but didn't ask any further questions. He glanced around the edge of the field, then suddenly bent down and casually plucked a long, thin foxtail grass from the dense weeds beside the ridge.

He casually flicked the water droplets off the grass stems, then held them in the corner of his mouth. The grass spikes swayed gently by his lips, exuding a touch of untamed wildness.

Then, Zhou Ai bent his knees and squatted down on the edge of the field. This action made him instantly lower, almost level with the drooping golden rice ears behind him. He casually rested his left arm on his knee, his palm supporting his cheek, tilted his head slightly, and stared unabashedly at Chu Yi's camera.

The sunlight poured down on him without reservation, turning his silver-gray hair golden. A lazy smile played on his lips as he chewed on a blade of grass, but his peach blossom eyes were deep and focused, as if looking straight into the heart of the person holding the camera through a lens.

Chu Yi's heart skipped a beat for no apparent reason. He steadied his breathing and kept pressing the shutter button, capturing this seemingly casual yet tense scene.

The wind rustles through the rice paddies, creating the only accompaniment to the sound.

The two of them, one taking the picture and the other being photographed, were silent yet in sync, as if they were having a silent conversation.

After taking more than a dozen photos, Zhou Ai suddenly stood up without warning.

He spat out the foxtail grass that had been chewed and deformed in his mouth, and took a single step to bridge the tiny distance between them in Chu Yi's direction.

Before Chu Yi could react, a warm, large hand suddenly covered most of his face without warning.

My vision was instantly blocked, leaving only my eyes able to peek out from between my fingers.

Chu Yi was suddenly stunned, her body instinctively stiffening, and her hand holding the camera froze in mid-air.

Zhou Ai's hands were large, almost completely covering his face. His palms were warm and dry, with a rough texture as if he had just held straw. They were pressed tightly against his skin, and he could even feel the slight throbbing of the other's pulse.

This sudden and overly intimate gesture completely stunned Chu Yi, leaving her mind blank.

Zhou Ai leaned forward slightly, peering intently through the gaps between her fingers at Chu Yi's eyes, which were widening slightly in surprise.

Chu Yi's eyes were beautiful, with dark pupils. He was usually calm and aloof, but at this moment, his astonishment and his shadow were clearly reflected.

Everything around us seemed to have stopped.

The sounds of the wind, the distant birdsong, and even the flowing sunlight all disappeared.

Zhou Ai's gaze deepened and inquisitive as he stared into Chu Yi's eyes, as if trying to find some forgotten mark. After a long pause, he spoke slowly and in a low voice, his tone carrying a strange allure and uncertainty:

"Teacher Chu..."

"Have we... met somewhere before?"

These words struck Chu Yi like a thunderclap.

With his face covered, his pupils suddenly contracted, his heart felt as if it were being squeezed tightly by an invisible hand, and even his breath stopped for a moment.

Zhou Ai's hand was still on his face, and the warm touch became incredibly clear, even somewhat scalding.

The two were so close they could feel each other's breath, the air filled with the fragrance of rice and a palpable tension.

Chu Yi was so shocked by Zhou Ai's question that his heart skipped a beat. Almost instinctively, he took a step back, trying to create the dangerous and suffocating distance between them.

However, Zhou Ai seemed to have anticipated his reaction.

Chu Yi took a step back, and he immediately leaned forward, his peach blossom eyes fixed on Chu Yi. "Teacher Chu, you still haven't answered me?"

His gaze was extremely oppressive, as if he could see right through Chu Yi.

As she asked the question, Zhou Ai even glanced coldly at the photographer who was still diligently taking pictures not far away, raising an impatient brow.

A single glance, without even a word.

The photographer instantly felt a jolt, as if pricked by a needle. He immediately understood and nodded hastily, his voice cracking, "Okay, okay, Teacher Zhou! I'll disappear right away! You two can chat all you want! Chat all you want!"

After saying that, he carried the machine and practically tumbled and crawled as he turned and ran back, so fast it was as if a ferocious beast was chasing him. He disappeared around the bend in the field in an instant.

The photographer's disappearance did not ease the atmosphere; instead, it made it even more tense.

Now, only the two of them remain in this vast, golden rice field.

Chu Yi's body remained taut like a fully drawn bow. Although Zhou Ai's hand had left his face as he retreated, the warmth of her palm and the sensation of her pulse seemed to remain etched on his skin, lingering there.

He couldn't even be sure of one fact—

Did Zhou Ai truly recognize something, or was it just a vague feeling, or... worse, just a casual joke?

A tremendous sense of panic and a fear of having his secret exposed gripped Chu Yi.

Subconsciously, there is only one understanding—that is, it must never be admitted.

The moment he nods, everything will go awry, or even worse.

Therefore, this will be a secret that belongs only to him, and Chu Yi is prepared to keep it buried in his heart for a lifetime.

Just as Zhou Ai’s attention was drawn back from the photographer, Chu Yi suddenly raised his hand and shoved Zhou Ai in the chest with some force, pushing him back slightly and completely interrupting the other’s bewildering questioning and stare.

"Teacher Zhou," Chu Yi's voice trembled slightly from the tension and the force he was exerting, but he tried his best to remain calm, even with a hint of offended coldness, "I've already said before, you've mistaken me for someone else. We don't know each other before."

Chu Yi avoided Zhou Ai's probing gaze, quickly turned around, and hugged the camera tightly to her chest.

"It's windy here. We've taken enough photos; it's time to head back."

Zhou Ai was pushed back half a step by him, and stood still, raising her hand to gently rub her chest where Chu Yi had pushed her earlier.

got the wrong person?

Don't you recognize me?

Chu Yi's pupils contracted sharply and her body stiffened abruptly just now, which didn't seem like she didn't recognize him.

The panic in those eyes and the barely concealed sense of familiarity... there's definitely something wrong.

"Heh..." Zhou Ai chuckled softly. Instead of backing down because of Chu Yi's denial and rejection, he leaned forward, closing the distance between them, and looked directly into Chu Yi's eyes, which were trying to dodge under his beanie.

"Alright," he drawled, his tone unreadable, "then... thank you for taking the photos for me earlier, Professor Chu."

Before she finished speaking, Zhou Ai suddenly raised her hand and gently hooked the brim of Chu Yi's hat with her index finger.

Before Chu Yi could react, his hand slid down smoothly, passing through the camera strap that Chu Yi was tightly clutching in her arms, and with a gentle hook, he took the camera from her hand and hung it back around his neck.

The series of movements were fluid and seamless.

Then, while Chu Yi was still in a daze of having her hat brim pulled and her camera taken away, Zhou Ai's right hand had already accurately moved downwards, firmly grasped Chu Yi's left hand hanging by her side, and walked down the narrow ridge of the field.

Chu Yi's hands were usually cold, but now they were completely enveloped by Zhou Ai's warm, dry, large, and strong palms. The completely different body temperature and touch made him tremble violently as if he had been electrocuted.

He almost instinctively tried to break free.

"Don't move."

Zhou Ai seemed to have eyes in the back of her head, noticing Chu Yi the moment she was about to exert force to break free.

He immediately tightened his grip on Chu Yi's hand, holding it more firmly in his palm, and turned to face Chu Yi.

He leaned slightly forward, his gaze sweeping over the slippery, muddy ridge beneath his feet before settling back on Chu Yi's face, which was filled with astonishment and resistance. A lazy yet undeniable smile played on his lips as he lowered his voice:

"Teacher Chu, this road is not easy to walk on. If you keep moving around..."

He paused deliberately, his gaze sweeping meaningfully over the shimmering rice paddies beside them. "We'll probably both be covered in mud today and need to go back and change. I don't mind, but I wonder if Dr. Chu... you've brought enough spare clothes?"

Zhou Ai's tone returned to its usual lazy and unreliable manner, with obvious teasing, but her grip on Chu Yi's hand was firm and showed no sign of letting go.

The warmth from that palm flowed continuously, almost burning into Chu Yi's skin.

Chu Yi was speechless, unable to refute his words.

He looked at Zhou Ai's self-righteous expression that said, "I'm doing this entirely for our own good," then looked down at their tightly clasped hands, and glanced at the steep ridge beside them that was indeed a slippery spot...

Reason told him that Zhou Ai was right, and safety should come first.

But his ears still burned uncontrollably, and his tightly clenched hands seemed to burn along with them.

Looking at his flushed ears and forced composure, Zhou Ai's smile deepened.

He gave Chu Yi no more chance to hesitate or resist, turned around, and said in a relaxed tone, "Let's go, down the mountain. Stay close, Teacher Chu."

After saying that, he took Chu Yi's hand and continued walking steadily down the ridge from where they had come.

Chu Yi was led by Zhou Ai and had no choice but to keep up with him. His left hand was firmly held in Zhou Ai's hand, and the burning sensation was so clear that he couldn't ignore it at all.

After walking for a while, Chu Yi tried to loosen his grip so that their hands weren't so tightly clasped, but Zhou Ai's fingers seemed to be welded to his, remaining motionless.

The mountain breeze carried the fragrance of rice, but it couldn't dispel the rising temperature and extremely ambiguous atmosphere between the two as they held hands.

Chu Yi lowered her head, her gaze fixed on the alternating footsteps of the two people, her heart beating so fast it almost kept pace with their steps.

As Zhou Ai walked ahead, feeling the slightly cool yet soft hand in her palm, the corners of her mouth never left her lips in a smile.

Therefore, this once again confirmed his inner suspicions.

Chu Yi will not refuse him.