Is This The Right Way To Repay A Favor? Chapter 11

Photoshoot

Wang Lei walked straight up to the girl. “Hand over your phone and delete the pictures.”

Caught red-handed, the girl’s hands trembled violently as she fumbled for her phone. Under Wang Lei’s watchful eye, she deleted the secretly taken photos right in front of him, then completely emptied the trash bin.

“I… I’m a fan of Teacher Shen,” her voice shook, laced with a sob. “I… I just wanted to take them for my own collection, I didn’t mean to….”

“Don’t let there be a next time,” Wang Lei said coldly, his gaze immediately shifting to Jiang Zhou in the corner, his eyes holding the same scrutiny.

The girl covered her face and ran out crying.

“What about you?” Wang Lei stared at Jiang Zhou, his tone demanding. “What are you doing here?”

The commotion drew Shen Zhiyu’s attention. He slightly tilted his head, his gaze passing through the makeup mirror toward the two confronting each other in the corner.

Jiang Zhou kept his voice very low. “I didn’t take any pictures.”

“I know you didn’t,” Wang Lei’s tone was clearly impatient. “I asked what you do? Why are you here?”

Jiang Zhou’s lips moved, just about to speak, when the dressing room door was pushed open again.

It was an executive from Yalan.

“Little Jiang—” The executive’s eyes swept over the slightly tense atmosphere, and he nodded toward Jiang Zhou. “You should step out first, I need to discuss something with Teacher Shen.”

Jiang Zhou quickly lowered his head and retreated.

Yalan and Shen Zhiyu had been collaborating for five or six years, and both parties were already well acquainted.

Once Jiang Zhou left, the executive got straight to the point: “This Little Jiang is a relative of Wei Yan, the assistant to the CEO of Languang Media. He was sent here to gain practical experience for a day. The kid has social anxiety, he’s very introverted and can barely speak clearly. Don’t worry, he won’t get in your way.”

Shen Zhiyu had just finished his eye makeup. He reached up to adjust his eyebrows. Hearing this, his movement paused slightly, and his brow subtly arched. “Languang Media?”

“Yes. A few years ago, Languang Media’s cosmetics line collaborated with us to develop a new series, so we’ve had some interaction.”

But those were all legitimate business dealings. This was the first time someone had been placed here for a day of “experience” through private connections, which was odd.

He didn’t voice that last thought, though.

After all, in this industry, even the most unbelievable things were commonplace, and it was best not to pry. Otherwise, one might accidentally bring trouble upon oneself.

Jiang Zhou left the dressing room and headed straight for the restroom, leaning against the cold tiled wall to calm down for a while.

The idea of pretending to be a student here for “practical experience” was a spontaneous decision he made last night.

Since collapsing after the last press conference, he had been kept under “closed-door surveillance” by Yuan Chong and Yuan Rong for three full days, and his phone was confiscated.

During those three days, they took shifts watching him twenty-four hours a day, and he couldn’t find any opportunity to inquire about Shen Zhiyu.

Later, when the situation stabilized somewhat, he was allowed to go out.

As soon as he was free, and learned of Shen Zhiyu’s schedule for the day, Jiang Zhou’s heart couldn’t be restrained. He just wanted to see him with his own eyes.

He closed his eyes, recalling Shen Zhiyu in the dressing room just now.

From this close distance, he watched Shen Zhiyu’s clean canvas gradually being painted into an intense and sharp flower.

Being able to witness Shen Zhiyu’s makeup process was already deeply satisfying for Jiang Zhou. He worried that anything more would be excessive, so he prepared to leave.

Just as he stepped out of the restroom, he bumped into Shen Zhiyu’s manager, Wang Lei, who was waiting outside, seemingly for someone specific.

Jiang Zhou lowered his head and quickened his pace to walk past him.

But Wang Lei spoke up. “Little Jiang.”

Jiang Zhou didn’t stop, completely unaware that the address was directed at him.

Seeing the person about to disappear around the corner of the hallway, Wang Lei took a few quick steps, grabbing his arm. “Little Jiang! Didn’t you hear me call you?”

Jiang Zhou was forced to look up. He lowered his voice, which was muffled and soft. “Is something wrong?”

“I heard you’re here for practical experience?” Wang Lei released his arm, his gaze openly sizing him up. “What kind of experience?”

The person was completely bundled up: a baseball cap pulled low, a black mask covering most of his face, and a pair of bulky black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.

Even with such close scrutiny, Wang Lei couldn’t make much out. The only thing that left an impression was the pair of large, clear eyes behind the lenses.

He was quite tall, with a long-limbed frame, but excessively thin, like a slender straw. Wang Lei had no doubt he could knock him down with one punch.

He wondered why Shen Zhiyu specifically wanted him to keep such a person nearby.

While Wang Lei was scrutinizing him, Jiang Zhou was also observing Wang Lei, simultaneously wondering if Wang Lei had sensed something, prompting him to specifically chase him out and question him.

If that was the case, it wouldn’t be easy to fool him.

After a brief thought, Jiang Zhou elaborated on his previous explanation to the executive. “I’m mainly here to observe and learn the specific workflow and content of a celebrity’s full day when attending brand events.”

“In that case—” Wang Lei gestured with his chin toward the dressing room. “Come with me.”

Jiang Zhou stood still. “Where are we going?”

“Didn’t you want to understand a celebrity’s daily work? Now you have a great opportunity for close observation—follow our Zhiyu.”

“No need,” Jiang Zhou immediately refused.

While this was an opportunity to get closer to Shen Zhiyu, what he had seen today was enough comfort. He was afraid he wouldn’t be able to handle getting any closer.

Wang Lei heard this, crossed his arms leisurely, and looked at him with a judging gaze. “Why not?”

Jiang Zhou was speechless.

He had just claimed that his practical experience involved observing the entire celebrity event process. Now that the artist himself had extended an invitation, he truly couldn’t find a plausible reason to refuse.

While he was still searching for an excuse, the dressing room door clicked open.

Shen Zhiyu and the Yalan executive walked out.

The executive waved at Jiang Zhou. “Little Jiang, come here.”

Jiang Zhou moved over.

“Teacher Shen heard you were here for practical experience,” the executive explained with a smile. “He specifically suggested that you follow him today. What do you think?”

Shen Zhiyu’s gaze rested heavily on Jiang Zhou.

This black jacket, the height, and the build were identical to the figure in the underground parking lot.

He could almost certainly conclude that the heavily wrapped person in front of him was Jiang Zhou.

Given Jiang Zhou’s status, he would have an entourage if he came to inspect or visit openly. Why bother going to such lengths to disguise himself?

Surely, he wasn’t here to be his fan, was he?

That would be quite interesting.

Jiang Zhou didn’t dare look up, fearing he might reveal a clue. His eyes were fixed on the shoes Shen Zhiyu was wearing. They were unique blue square-toed boots, made of velvet, with scattered diamond sequins glued around the ankles.

He tried to keep his voice steady and polite. “I don’t want to trouble Teacher Shen, I…”

“It’s fine—” Shen Zhiyu interrupted him, his voice devoid of emotion. “It’s no trouble. Let’s go.”

Before his words fully landed, he had already lifted his foot and walked forward.

Jiang Zhou had no choice but to follow.

—

The morning was dedicated to a magazine photoshoot.

The group entered the studio one after another.

Shen Zhiyu casually took off his jacket and handed it to Jiang Zhou. “Please hold this for me, thank you.”

Jiang Zhou instinctively took it. The jacket still held the residual warmth of its owner. That warmth seeped through the fabric onto his arm, instantly spreading throughout his body.

The face beneath the mask suddenly flushed, and his breathing hitched. A long-suppressed surge of restlessness roared up from the depths of his heart, threatening to burst through his body.

Jiang Zhou clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging fiercely into the recently healed cuts on his palm. The sharp stinging sensation traveled through him, temporarily forcing the turbulent restlessness into dormancy.

Shen Zhiyu walked onto the set and began the shoot.

Jiang Zhou stood frozen for a moment. Only when the agitation was temporarily suppressed did he dare to lift his eyes and look over from a distance.

The inspiration for the first look of the morning was “Butterfly.”

Shen Zhiyu had changed into a deep V-neck blue velvet shirt, paired with highly stylized wide-leg bell-bottom trousers. A dramatically shaped blue butterfly earring was clipped to his left ear.

His makeup was rich and vivid. The deep blue eyeliner accentuated his already upturned eye shape, making them appear even more sharp and soaring. His nose bridge was high, his lips full. He looked like a vibrant butterfly wing resting in the light and shadow, dazzling to the point of suffocation.

Jiang Zhou’s gaze was glued to him, unable to move even an inch. The restlessness that had been forcibly suppressed flared up like a wildfire from dormant ashes, instantly spreading, scorching his nerve endings. The veins on his forehead pulsed uncontrollably.

“Little Jiang, don’t just stand there,” Wang Lei reminded Jiang Zhou, who was holding the jacket and staring blankly. “Come sit over here and wait.”

Jiang Zhou snapped out of his daze, frantically lowering his eyes. He shuffled over to the sofa near Wang Lei, almost walking with the same foot and hand, and sat down.

The heavy disguise was his only shield now, barely concealing his near-uncontrollable emotions.

To distract himself, he hastily pulled out his phone.

Yuan Chong had sent a message ten minutes ago, demanding to know why he had run off to Guangyu Studio and if he had a death wish.

Jiang Zhou’s fingertips trembled as he replied, “I’m fine.”

Yuan Chong clearly didn’t believe he was fine and was already on his way. “I’ll be there in five minutes. Get out immediately!”

Before Jiang Zhou could finish typing his reply, the next message slammed in, as if anticipating his hesitation: “If you don’t come out, I’ll personally come in and drag you out.”

Jiang Zhou had no choice but to reply: “Okay.”

After sending the message, he couldn’t resist looking toward the shooting area again.

Shen Zhiyu was highly efficient; the first set of photos was already complete. The makeup artist was surrounding him, touching up his makeup.

Shen Zhiyu suddenly covered his mouth and coughed twice, his shoulders slightly shaking.

Wang Lei immediately nudged Jiang Zhou beside him with his elbow. “Quick, give him the jacket. He has a cold.”

Jiang Zhou grabbed the still-warm jacket and practically ran over.

Shen Zhiyu reached up to pull the jacket over his shoulders, saying in a low voice, “Thank you.”

His voice was hoarser than before, muffled by a heavy nasal tone. The cold was clearly severe.

Jiang Zhou wanted to tell him to rest more, but the words caught in his throat. He didn’t seem to have the standing to say such a thing, so he stood silently to the side.

His phone vibrated frantically in his pocket. It was Yuan Chong calling.

Jiang Zhou quickly walked to the corner to answer. “I’m coming out now, don’t come in!” His tone carried a hint of urgency that was hard to miss.

Hanging up the phone, Jiang Zhou walked back to Shen Zhiyu, his voice tight. “Excuse me, Teacher Shen. Something urgent came up at home, I have to leave now.”

Shen Zhiyu raised his eyes, his gaze briefly lingering on him, and nodded.

“Alright. We can collaborate again next time.”