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

The two walked one after the other, finally finishing the most slippery and steep section of the field ridge, and stepped onto the relatively flat and solid dirt road.

As soon as he regained his footing, Chu Yi almost immediately let go. The scalding touch on his fingertips seemed to linger, making him extremely uncomfortable.

He turned slightly to avoid Zhou Ai's gaze, his voice returning to its usual calm, even carrying a deliberate air of distance: "My camera."

Zhou Ai looked at her suddenly empty hand, her fingertips unconsciously curling up slightly, as if savoring the sensation from just now.

But he didn't show any unusual expression on his face. He just lazily hummed in agreement, then deftly took the camera off his neck and handed it back to Chu Yi.

Chu Yi took the camera, carefully avoiding touching Zhou Ai's hand with her fingertips.

"The photos," Chu Yi paused, looking at the camera in her hand, and continued, "I'll export them and send them to you later."

"Sure," Zhou Ai replied readily, a smile playing on her lips, but her gaze remained fixed on Chu Yi's slightly reddened earlobes.

At this moment, the photographer who had been "chased away" by Zhou Ai earlier caught up, panting, looking uneasy, his eyes darting back and forth between Zhou Ai and Chu Yi, unsure whether he should take the picture or not.

Chu Yi didn't say anything more. Holding her camera, she turned and walked towards the stilted house.

The photographer hesitated, glancing at Zhou Ai with a questioning look.

Zhou Ai, in a good mood, gestured to him with her chin, indicating that he should follow.

The photographer, relieved to receive permission, quickly picked up his equipment and jogged after Chu Yi.

After all, Zhou Ai's own photographer probably couldn't keep up with this guy's elusive movements, so most of the footage for later production would likely have to be "filled in" from Chu Yi's shots.

Zhou Ai stood still, watching Chu Yi's slightly hurried back and the photographer huffing and puffing behind her, chuckled softly, and then slowly strolled over to catch up.

-

Chu Yi returned to her room and immediately closed the door, as if only then could she completely shut herself off from the world outside, filled with the misty atmosphere and distractions.

He leaned against the door, let out a soft sigh, and felt his heartbeat gradually calm down.

He walked to his desk, turned on his computer, connected his camera, and exported the photos he had taken that morning.

As Zhou Ai's photos appeared on the screen one by one, Chu Yi unconsciously softened her breathing.

Sunlight, rice paddies, distant mountains... all became the perfect backdrop. And Zhou Ai, at the center of the lens, whether languid, unrestrained, or focused, every expression and every movement seemed meticulously calculated, yet exuded a natural charm.

The camera clearly captured the sheen in his silver hair, the shadows cast by his eyelashes, and the unfathomable emotions in his peach blossom eyes.

Chu Yi stared at Zhou Ai's magnified face on the screen, her fingertips unconsciously hovering over the touchpad.

He had truly forgotten how long it had been since he had gazed at Zhou Ai so intently and directly through the lens.

The last time, perhaps, was in a crowded and noisy corner of an airport, through countless heads and raised phones, I vaguely caught a glimpse of a distant figure.

This is the first time that we've had such close-up filming, so openly and honestly, and even under the guise of "work."

The Zhou Ai in the photo is more real and more impactful than the person in my memory.

As Chu Yi looked at the images, he couldn't help but sigh softly, his heart filled with mixed emotions. He skillfully exported the selected original images and dragged them into the chat window.

My fingertip hovered over the send button for a few seconds.

In the end, he gently clicked send.

Seeing the "sent successfully" message appear, Chu Yi felt as if she had completed a major task or unloaded a burden. She quickly exited the chat interface, turned off her phone screen, and placed it face down on the table.

It's as if this will shield us from everything that might happen next.

Meanwhile, Zhou Ai, who was leisurely strolling back to the stilted house, felt her phone vibrate in her pocket.

He took out his phone, and the screen lit up, displaying a new message from [Meteorite].

There are several photos.

Zhou Ai clicked on the large image and looked at the close-ups of herself from various angles on the screen. A hint of surprise flashed in her eyes, which then turned into a deeper smile.

Chu Yi's photography skills are indeed as amazing as Zhou Jiashu praised.

Not only is the composition and lighting excellent, but more importantly... he has an indescribable vividness in the lens that even professional teams can't capture.

The photographer's entire attention was focused on him without reservation.

Zhou Ai saved the image and tapped her fingertips on the screen.

Z.AI: [Your skills are impressive, Dr. Chu.]

Z.AI: [Image]

Z.AI: [This one is especially beautiful. I've saved it. Thank you.]

He specifically chose a photo of himself half-squatting on the edge of the field, chewing on a blade of grass, staring intently at the camera, and sent it back.

After sending the photos, as Zhou Ai expected, he did not receive a reply from Chu Yi, but he was still in a great mood.

Zhou Ai sat down on the railing on the second floor of the stilted house, one long leg casually bent, the other dangling down and swinging gently. Her gaze was blank as she looked at the terraced fields and the misty mountains in the distance, her mind seemingly lost in thought.

The sunlight had already dispelled the morning mist, revealing the silhouettes of distant mountain peaks. The golden rice paddies swayed left and right with the wind, and the air was filled with the fragrance of rice.

Zhou Ai's thoughts were completely absorbed in his own world. His gaze was fixed on the distance, but what kept replaying in his mind was—

It was the look of panic in Chu Yi's eyes when he covered her face.

"Damn! So...cute."

Zhou Ai rubbed her hair, bit her lower lip, and warned herself not to think about it anymore.

Just as I came to my senses, I heard Zhou Jiashu cheering from the room behind me.

"Wow! This is so beautiful!!!"

Zhou Ai frowned at the loud noise. Before he could get up, Zhou Jiashu had already rushed out of the room like a cannonball, holding his phone, his face beaming with excitement and disbelief.

"Brother Zhou! Brother Zhou! Look!!" Zhou Jiashu practically shoved his phone screen right in front of Zhou Ai's eyes.

"The photos Teacher Chu sent me! They're edited! My goodness! The composition! The color tone! The atmosphere! Absolutely amazing! They're on par with those top-tier fan site photographers! No, they're even better than some of theirs!"

Zhou Jiashu was so excited that he was incoherent. On the screen was a photo of himself in a golden rice field. The sunlight, the boy, and the distant mountains were all processed by Chu Yi to make the photo look natural and full of story. It was indeed a blockbuster.

Zhou Ai's gaze lazily fell on the screen, and she glanced at it.

It was indeed very well shot, and the editing was very meticulous.

but……

Zhou Ai's brows furrowed even more imperceptibly.

He thought of the few cold, unedited original images he had received.

So, what was given to Zhou Jiashu was a meticulously edited "blockbuster"?

What they gave him was the raw, unprocessed "original footage"?

Not even a single extra word?

A surge of resentment mixed with bitterness and a feeling of being treated differently welled up inside, instantly overwhelming the slight pleasure I had felt from receiving the photos.

Zhou Ai ground her teeth, her expression darkening visibly, and she forced out a sentence through gritted teeth: "So, this is preferential treatment?"

"Huh? What kind of differential treatment?" Zhou Jiashu was still immersed in the joy of the photo and didn't react at all. He looked at Zhou Ai's suddenly darkened face with a blank expression.

Zhou Ai ignored him and nimbly jumped down from the railing. Before Zhou Jiashu could react, she braced herself against the railing and, with a clean, neat, and somewhat defiant rage, jumped directly from the second floor!

"Holy crap—Brother Zhou! Watch out!!!" Zhou Jiashu was terrified by his sudden dangerous action and clung to the railing, shouting down in fear.

Chu Yi, who was in the room downstairs, had just saved the photo editing project file when she heard Zhou Jiashu's terrified scream from upstairs, followed by a muffled thud as if something heavy had fallen to the ground.

His heart skipped a beat for no reason. Before he could think about it, there was a loud knocking on the door, which seemed quite forceful.

Chu Yi got up with a puzzled look, walked over and opened the door.

Outside the door, Zhou Ai stood there, her face dark, her aura low, her peach blossom eyes seemingly filled with ice shards yet burning with fire, staring straight at him in an extremely bad mood.

Chu Yi was taken aback by his "interrogation" attitude and subconsciously frowned.

Didn't he just send a message saying "Good technique", "Especially beautiful", "Saved, thanks"?

Why are you showing this expression all of a sudden?

Could it be... that there's something wrong with the photo? Does he not like it? Does he think it's poorly taken?

"What's wrong?" Chu Yi suppressed her doubts and asked calmly, trying to ignore the strong hostile aura emanating from the other person.

Zhou Ai stared at him without saying a word, but took a step forward, almost stepping into the room. Her deep eyes seemed to want to suck Chu Yi in and dissect him.

The air seemed to freeze, filled with a sense of impending doom.

---

Chu Yi didn't know how things had developed to the point that Zhou Ai had specially brought a wooden stool and sat next to him, watching him edit the photos one by one.

"Is this okay?" Chu Yi basically didn't change Zhou Ai's character image, but only made slight adjustments to the clarity and saturation to make the morning mist and sun stand out more, which was indeed a step up from the original film.

The atmosphere in the room was somewhat tense, with only the slight hum of the computer running and the sound of the mouse clicking.

Chu Yi focused intently on adjusting the parameters on the screen, occasionally turning to ask the person in question for their opinion.

Meanwhile, Zhou Ai, the person involved, sat obediently on a small wooden stool next to Chu Yi, with one arm casually draped over the edge of the table, her eyes fixed on the screen and on Chu Yi's focused profile.

When Chu Yi finished adjusting and saving the last photo, and then turned to ask Zhou Ai for her opinion, Zhou Ai did not immediately look at the final result.

His gaze shifted from the screen, locking onto Chu Yi's eyes, and he finally asked the question that had been on his mind since he entered the room, his tone clearly displeased and accusatory:

"Why did you fix it for him but not for me?"

Chu Yi was taken aback by this seemingly random yet clearly pointed question, and subconsciously replied, "You didn't ask for anything either."

Chu Yi's tone was one of utter innocence, as if it were nothing at all.

This answer clearly failed to satisfy Zhou Ai; instead, it seemed to have lit a fuse.

He leaned forward slightly, getting closer, and almost gritted his teeth as he pressed on, his tone carrying a barely perceptible hint of grievance and accusation: "Then why did you offer to fix it for him? Hmm?"

The continuous questioning, coupled with Zhou Ai's almost childish and unreasonable behavior, made Chu Yi unable to hold back and laugh out loud.

He sighed helplessly and explained, "Jia Shu just messaged me saying he picked out a few photos to post on Weibo and asked if I could help him with some simple editing, so I edited them."

In his view, this was nothing more than normal mutual assistance between friends.

"I want to post on Weibo too," Zhou Ai immediately chimed in, her tone resolute, carrying a stubbornness that said, "If he can post, why can't I?"

"No way." Chu Yi blurted out without thinking, refusing decisively.

"Why?" Zhou Ai's brows furrowed instantly, her voice deepened, and her displeasure intensified.

He stared intently at Chu Yi, determined to get to the bottom of it.

Why?

Chu Yi was speechless when asked the question.

He couldn't really explain why, it was just a strong, subconscious intuition—he couldn't let Zhou Ai post these photos.

Especially... especially the ones he photographed.

He pursed his lips, avoiding Zhou Aizhuo's piercing gaze, and tried to find a plausible excuse, his tone becoming businesslike: "You're an artist, and the photos you post on social media need to be reviewed by your team. There's strict image management. They won't approve of you posting photos taken by non-professional photographers or without your team's confirmation."

This reason sounds impeccable, and it stems entirely from Zhou Ai's professional perspective.

After listening, Zhou Ai remained silent for a few seconds. Just when Chu Yi thought he was finally going to shut up, Zhou Ai suddenly twitched the corner of his mouth and revealed an ambiguous smile.

He took out his phone, tapped the screen quickly a few times, and then turned the screen towards Chu Yi.

The screen displayed his WeChat chat interface with his agent, Xu Yang.

The latest message was just sent by Zhou Ai:

[Yang Ge, I had Teacher Chu take some photos for me, and they turned out really well. I want to post them on Weibo.]

Almost immediately, Xu Yang's reply popped up, incredibly fast:

[Post! Must post! Post it now! Post more! These photos are really well taken! Professor Chu has such talent?! Remember to tag the production team and Professor Chu! Thank them properly!]

It was followed by several exaggerated thumbs-up and "666" emojis.

Chu Yi: "…………"

He stared at his agent's enthusiastic reply on the screen, a reply that seemed to be eager to announce it to the world, and was utterly speechless.

Zhou Ai slowly put away her phone, watching Chu Yi's frustrated and speechless expression with amusement. She raised an eyebrow and asked in a drawn-out voice:

"Now—Professor Chu, are there any other 'professional' questions?"

"Or rather," he leaned forward again, his gaze piercing, as if trying to see into Chu Yi's heart, "you just... don't want me to send you the photos you took of me?"