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

During this period when we couldn't meet, time seemed to have stopped flowing at a different pace.

Zhou Ai was busy at double speed. His schedule was packed with Xu Yang's, moving from one photography studio to another recording studio, from one commercial event to the next magazine shoot. Flashes, lenses, and noisy crowds made up the main theme of his life.

Chu Yi's promise made last time kept him happy even in his busy work, and he felt full of energy and hope.

Even in the midst of his hectic schedule, he always manages to find time to share his life with Chu Yi.

Sometimes, while waiting in the dressing room for his hair and makeup to be changed, amidst the noisy chatter and the steam from curling irons, he would find a reasonably well-lit angle in front of the mirror, quickly snap a photo of his freshly done hair and makeup. In the photo, you could even see him drinking half a cup of black coffee. He would then send it to Chu Yi with a simple caption: "New look."

Sometimes, after finishing work late at night, he would be so tired in his van that his eyelids were drooping, and his assistant would hand him a simple meal box. He would take a picture of the not-so-delicious healthy meal and add a crying face emoji.

On one occasion, during a break from a photoshoot for promotional photos, he couldn't resist taking an unflattering selfie with an extremely exaggerated and visually striking hairstyle and sending it to the photographer, deliberately captioning it: "One of us, the stylist or not, must be crazy."

These fragmented messages, carrying Zhou Ai's most immediate emotions and state of mind, transcend space and continuously flow into Chu Yi's personal world.

They are insignificant, yet omnipresent, like a quiet window that allows Chu Yi to glimpse his colorful, busy, and noisy world.

But Zhou Ai actually enjoyed this distance. Even when they didn't meet, with that promise, he could still confidently share his life and feelings with Chu Yi. This kind of sharing was a joy he had never experienced before.

For Chu Yi, time seemed to flow smoothly and evenly. His foot injury limited his range of movement, but it gave him long stretches of quiet time alone. He devoted most of his energy to those long-delayed papers, and his study was piled high with reference materials.

He would check his phone periodically to reply to necessary work messages, but he never stared at it constantly. He would usually pick up his phone to process all the accumulated messages at once when he finished writing a chapter or took a break from tedious data analysis.

Therefore, the photos and messages sent by Zhou Ai often need to go through a "flight time" of varying length before receiving a response.

Chu Yi's replies are always concise, reflecting his unique style.

Upon receiving photos from the set, one might reply with: "Hmm, it suits you well."

Seeing a "miserable" work lunch, one might comment: "[Needs to replenish energy.]" Or more bluntly: "[Looks like it's lacking vitamins.]"

In response to that exaggerated "crazy" hairstyle selfie, Chu Yi replied with a system-provided smiley face half an hour later, perhaps the most sarcastic thing he could say.

Zhou Ai quickly figured out a pattern in these unpredictable replies. He astutely discovered that if he received a reply from Chu Yi more than two hours after sending a message, the conversation was basically over.

Chu Yi wouldn't continue the conversation on his new topic, as if that reply was a polite end to the conversation.

This discovery made Zhou Ai subconsciously start calculating time. After sending a message, he would silently note it down and then roughly estimate when Chu Yi might see it.

Once that special nickname finally pops up at the top of the chat window with the message "The other party is typing...", Zhou Ai's heart will inexplicably race. He will immediately put down all unimportant things at hand, staring intently at the screen, like a small beast poised to pounce.

Chu Yi's replies are often brief, sometimes consisting of only one word or an emoji.

But that's enough.

Almost the instant Chu Yi's message was delivered, Zhou Ai's reply would pop up, so fast it was almost a conditioned reflex.

【I might finish work a little earlier today!】——This was Chu Yi's reply to 【New look】.

【This is really hard to eat, Dr. Chu TT ~!】——This is Chu Yi's evaluation of the working lunch.

Sometimes it's just a simple question like, "What are you doing?" or "Is your paper going well?"

Zhou Ai seized that brief window of opportunity, lasting only a few seconds or minutes, and worked hard to turn the one-way sharing into a back-and-forth, even if it was extremely short, real-time dialogue.

Each successful "interception" and the subsequent few words of conversation would inexplicably lift Zhou Ai's spirits for a while, as if she had stolen a special candy during a busy break, and the sweetness could dispel all fatigue.

As for Chu Yi, he seemed unaware of, or did not point out, this little "scheme".

She continued to reply at her own pace, only occasionally, after Zhou Ai immediately responded, the "typing..." message would linger for a few more seconds, and she would reply with a few more words, extending the brief conversation window by just a little bit.

A silent understanding quietly formed between the radio signals.

One strives to get closer, while the other tacitly allows this closeness, maintaining a just-right, comfortable distance.

That day, Zhou Ai picked up a new boyfriend, but unexpectedly, just after arriving at the scene and getting her makeup done, the photography lighting malfunctioned.

So, feeling utterly bored, Zhou Ai, with her meticulously styled hair and makeup, leaned back on the sofa with her legs crossed, her right thumb resting on the edge of her teeth, pondering what message to send Chu Yi to get his attention.

It wasn't until she looked up at her makeup and styling in the side mirror that Zhou Ai suddenly had a flash of inspiration.

After posting that selfie—a slightly smug and vain one with a raised eyebrow at the camera, followed by a wagging tail (pretty little dog) emoji—Zhou Ai smiled contentedly, placed her phone face down on the dressing table, and prepared to close her eyes and rest while waiting for the lighting technician to adjust the settings.

He could almost foresee that, based on Chu Yina's almost rigid replying habits—he usually only checked his phone when he finished his work and took a break—he would follow suit.

Moreover, given the usual timeframe, a response would typically take at least two or three hours.

He could even imagine what Chu Yi would say in response: most likely a simple, objective "hmm," or at most a built-in "thumbs up."

However, less than ten seconds after he closed his eyes, his phone vibrated unexpectedly and very unusually!

Zhou Ai suddenly opened his eyes, almost thinking it was an illusion. He hesitated before reaching for his phone, and the screen lit up, displaying a new message notification on the lock screen.

Sender: Chu Yi.

Zhou Ai's heart skipped a beat for no apparent reason, and her fingertips swiped the screen with an eagerness she herself didn't even realize.

When Chu Yi's reply came into view in its entirety, Zhou Ai was stunned, her pupils dilating slightly as if she had seen something unbelievable.

Chu Yi actually... replied with an emoji!

It's not one of the system's default ones, but one from the same series as the one he posted (Is the puppy pretty or not?)!

A fluffy cartoon dog stares with big, round, bright eyes, its two front paws straining to hold up a shiny, golden thumb that's almost bigger than its body, accompanied by three exaggerated artistic characters:

[So cool!]

The combination of those three words and that cartoonish little dog was as impactful as a nuclear bomb, instantly leaving Zhou Ai dizzy, disoriented, and utterly stunned!

This...this is Chu Yi?

That person whose replies are always concise, economical with words, and whose emoji library seems to consist only of the system's default settings?!

Zhou Ai's first reaction was: Was her phone infected with a virus? Or had Chu Yi's account been hacked?

He sat up abruptly from the lounge chair, his fingers flying across the emoji, zooming in and out, examining it closely, confirming that it was indeed sent from Chu Yi.

A huge, unbelievable surprise overwhelmed him instantly, like boiling water.

An indescribable surge of joy and sweetness exploded from the bottom of his heart, quickly spreading throughout his body, causing the corners of his mouth to uncontrollably turn up wildly, almost to the roots of his ears.

Zhou Ai held her phone as if it were some priceless treasure, staring at the "So cool!" puppy emoji over and over again, her heart pounding as if she had just run a kilometer.

So... Chu Yi also uses these cute emojis?

And it's used to... praise his good looks?

The power of this word, expressed by Chu Yi in this way, is more than ten times greater!

Zhou Ai felt his cheeks and ears start to burn uncontrollably again. He wished he could run to Chu Yi right now and see with his own eyes what kind of expression he had when he sent this emoji.

Will she remain calm and composed, or... will she feel a little embarrassed?

His fingers trembled as he typed a reply almost instinctively, afraid that if he hesitated even a second, his intention would vanish or he would regret it.

【You actually use emojis?! And you're even complimenting me!!! (ΩДΩ)】

After sending the message, Zhou Ai stared nervously at the screen, her heart pounding.

This time, Chu Yi's reply came even faster. Almost the next second after his message was sent, the top of the chat box displayed "The other party is typing...".

A few seconds later, a new message popped up:

I was just clearing out my phone's memory when I saw this.

His tone was flat, as always, and even carried a hint of an attempt to cover up the truth.

But Zhou Ai didn't care about any of that!

He automatically ignored the second half of the sentence and only accurately captured the message "just happened to see" - which means that Chu Yi did indeed click on his photo and "just happened to" see this emoji that was suitable for replying!

Rounding down, it means Chu Yi specifically chose this meme to praise him!

Zhou Ai grinned so wide her eyes disappeared, her fingers flying across the screen:

[Whatever! Anyway, you complimented me! I got it! (=￣ω￣=)]

[It's rare for Dr. Chu to praise someone, I'm going to screenshot this and frame it!]

After sending that message, he couldn't help but click on the puppy giving a thumbs-up emoji that Chu Yi had sent. He liked it more and more as he looked at it, so he long-pressed to save it and set it as his exclusive background image for his chat with Chu Yi.

After doing all this, he put down his phone with satisfaction, feeling fully energized, and even the boring time waiting for the lights to be adjusted became colorful.

He even felt that the selfie he just took wasn't handsome enough, and he would have to find a better angle next time.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, in the study.

Almost immediately after Chu Yi sent that "So cool!" emoji, her fingertips stopped moving.

He looked at the cartoon dog on the screen, which was so different from his usual style and excessively lively and cute, and a slight, almost imperceptible warmth rose in his ears.

Was I... possessed by some inexplicable force just now?

I just happened to come across this series of emojis that my colleague had somehow included while cleaning up my phone, and then I happened to open the message Zhou Ai sent me, seeing that radiant selfie and that little dog wagging its tail...

It was as if the fingers had their own consciousness.

By the time he realized what was happening, the exaggerated emoji had already been successfully sent.

Chu Yi looked at the reply that popped up on Zhou Ai's side immediately, filled with shock and ecstasy, and could even imagine the other party's wide-eyed, silly smile.

He pursed his lips and subconsciously typed out that weak explanation: "[I was just organizing my phone's memory and saw this.]"

As expected, Zhou Ai didn't believe it at all, or rather, she chose to ignore it.

Looking at the message Zhou Ai sent later, which had a smug little tail symbol, Chu Yi shook her head helplessly, but a faint smile, which she herself did not notice, flashed in her eyes.

He put down his phone and refocused his attention on the densely packed academic papers on his computer screen. Only occasionally did his fingertips unconsciously tap the table, revealing a hint of an unusual, disturbed calm.

Ding-dong-

Another new WeChat message arrived, lying quietly on Chu Yi's phone screen, which was already in Do Not Disturb mode.

Remember to treat me to a meal!

[A cheeky puppy wagging its tail (JPG)]

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

After the lighting was adjusted, the photographer looked at Zhou Ai with a hint of trepidation, just about to ask him to return to the designated position.

At almost the same time, Zhou Ai took a step forward and accurately stood back at the marked point in the center of the camera.

The faint, oppressive aura and absent-mindedness that had previously emanated from him had vanished, replaced by a focused concentration and an almost scorching professional presence.

"We can begin, teacher." Zhou Ai's voice was clear and steady, carrying a reassuring power. He even nodded slightly to the photographer, indicating that he was fully prepared.

The subsequent filming went so smoothly that it surprised the entire team.

Zhou Ai's condition is astonishingly good.

He no longer needs much guidance or adjustment from the photographer; it's as if he himself is part of the light and shadow, able to accurately capture the intent of every camera position and light.

The shifts in posture are fluid and natural, each pose is full of tension and expressiveness, the eyes are sharp and full of emotion, and the artist is completely immersed in the creative atmosphere.

"Very good! Excellent!"

"Teacher Zhou, tilt your head just a little bit more, yes! Perfect!"

"That's the look! Hold on!"

Xu Yang stood behind the monitor with his arms crossed, looking at the man in the camera who seemed to radiate light and control himself with ease. He then glanced at the phone that Xu Yang had secretly placed with him for safekeeping, whose screen had just lit up briefly, and a knowing smile appeared on his lips.

Where is this guy from before, who was radiating resentment because he couldn't get any news and almost scared the photographer?

This is clearly an industry model worker who's been injected with adrenaline and is on a superhuman.

After a set of shots was filmed, Zhou Ai quickly walked to the monitor and reviewed the final footage with the photographer and brand representatives.

"I think the focus of the eyes could be better in this one," he said, pointing to one of the enlarged images. "Let's try another one. I want to try a more understated way of expression in this set."

His attitude is positive but not domineering. He communicates as a creative partner, pursuing the ultimate artistic effect rather than venting personal emotions.

The brand representative was beaming with joy, extremely satisfied with this partner.

When all the filming tasks were finally completed beyond expectations and the director shouted "Cut!", Zhou Ai finally showed a truly relaxed smile.

He politely bowed and thanked the staff, which elicited a chorus of thanks from the staff present.

This was the first time they had ever encountered such an easy-going top influencer.

Work performance is so good that—

It can be described as being on a high.

Zhou Ai deftly unbuttoned the top button as she walked towards Xu Yang, her gaze landing precisely on the phone in Xu Yang's hand.

Throughout the entire filming process, he was professional, focused, and efficient, even exceeding everyone's expectations.

But only he and Xu Yang knew that the source of that sudden burst of enthusiastic cooperation and perfect performance might just be a simple reply from someone on the other end of the phone.

Now that his work was successfully completed, he could finally openly and legitimately claim his "reward".