Then I’ll Photograph You for Ten Years

Ye Zhiqiu didn’t entirely agree.

The essence of design was innovation.

And formal study was the foundation of innovation.

When you became proficient enough to move freely, whether leather or fashion, you’d find the common ground points.

“After all, Xiaoqiu.”

The senior continued.

“A person’s energy is limited.”

“Yeah, I understand.”

Ye Zhiqiu couldn’t hide his disappointment, but he kept smiling.

“Thank you for your trouble, senior. When you’re back, dinner’s on me.”

He hung up and stared into space.

Running through his mind again were the names of professors with deep expertise in leather art, aside from Zhang Wenyuan.

Most were still too far away.

Even if they accepted him, it would likely be online study.

While feasible, it wouldn’t be as effective as in-person teaching.

“What do you need Zhang Wenyuan for?”

Qin Jianhe’s deep voice suddenly sounded in the car.

Ye Zhiqiu, lost in thought, took a moment to respond.

“You want to switch to leather design?”

Qin Jianhe asked.

“Not switch,” Ye Zhiqiu said.

“I want to do both.”

Qin Jianhe glanced at him.

Ye Zhiqiu expected him to say the same thing.

After all, a person’s energy was limited.

Some of his classmates struggled even with their own major.

But Qin Jianhe didn’t.

“My mother knows Professor Zhang fairly well.”

He said.

“I can ask around for you.”

“Really?”

Ye Zhiqiu was overjoyed.

Only now did he remember that when Nie Fengjun was a chief designer at an upscale international fashion brand, she had worked with Professor Zhang Wenyuan for a time.

Later, Nie Fengjun met and fell in love with Qin Xusheng, returning to China to help him develop his career.

A few years after that, Zhang Wenyuan resigned and joined the Academy of Fine Arts.

They were indeed old acquaintances.

“But.”

Qin Jianhe smiled faintly.

“I can only make the introduction. Whether it works out is up to you.”

“I understand.”

Ye Zhiqiu straightened up, his eyes bright as if stars had fallen into them.

“I’m already incredibly grateful for your help.”

The car reached the Ye family compound gates.

Ye Zhiqiu didn’t let Qin Jianhe drive him inside.

He hopped out, then suddenly realized they hadn’t exchanged contact information.

“President Qin.”

He leaned back in, peering inside, his beautiful eyes curving attractively.

“Would you mind exchanging contacts?”

Outside, the sky was pitch black.

Though there were streetlights nearby, their parking spot was quite dim.

Half of Ye Zhiqiu’s body was hidden in shadow, making his face look even smaller, his eyes even brighter.

It was different from the polite distance at the restaurant—this was eager.

Qin Jianhe looked at him for a moment, then gave a low “mm.”

There were business cards in the glove compartment, but he didn’t offer one.

Instead, he reached out.

“Give me your phone.”

“Okay.”

Ye Zhiqiu handed it over.

The phone had been held all this time, carrying the young man’s faint body heat.

Qin Jianhe looked down and entered his number.

Soon, a ringtone sounded in the car.

Qin Jianhe hung up and handed the phone back.

“Same for calls and WeChat.”

He restarted the engine.

“Talk soon.”

“Okay.”

Ye Zhiqiu waved happily.

Talk soon.

Ye Zhiqiu assumed he meant when there was news about Professor Zhang Wenyuan.

But the next morning, when Aunt Zhao knocked on his door and told him a car was outside to take him visiting a patient, Ye Zhiqiu was completely dumbfounded.

Wait.

So when Qin Jianhe said he was taking him to visit his father, that wasn’t just a random taunt?

He was serious?

And hadn’t they moved past yesterday?

Hadn’t they gotten along pretty well after that?

Ye Zhiqiu got ready and flew downstairs.

A low-key black business car waited outside the gate.

As soon as Ye Zhiqiu appeared, the driver got out and opened the rear door.

Qin Jianhe sat in back, looking down at a tablet, not even glancing up.

“Still in bed at this hour?”

“None of your business.”

Ye Zhiqiu muttered, but didn’t get in.

“You’re not seriously taking me to visit a patient, are you?”

“Mm.”

Qin Jianhe finally turned to look at him.

“Didn’t we agree yesterday?”

Ye Zhiqiu: “Ha… haha…”

The hell they agreed.

“Wait.”

Ye Zhiqiu reasoned.

“Yesterday you said your dad is obsessed with continuing the family line, right?”

“Mm.”

Qin Jianhe acknowledged flatly.

“I’m not going.”

Ye Zhiqiu gripped the door.

“And do you really think I can help you continue any family line?”

Qin Jianhe didn’t get angry.

A faint smile even surfaced in his deep, soulful phoenix eyes.

“Professor Zhang.”

His thin lips parted, calmly uttering three words.

Damn.

So that’s where he had him.

And he’d thought yesterday that Qin Jianhe was being kind and helpful.

Ye Zhiqiu climbed into the car.

“I’m going, I’m going.”

He sat beside Qin Jianhe with a tight smile.

“You just want me to absorb your dad’s anger, don’t you?”

“It’s meeting the parents.”

Qin Jianhe said, completely straight-faced.

Yeah, right.

As if he’d believe that.

Watching Qin Jianhe’s elegant, crossed-leg posture, Ye Zhiqiu was silent for a moment.

Then he pulled out his phone and started clicking away at him.

Click, click, click, click, click.

“I am curious, though.”

Qin Jianhe didn’t get angry, eyes still on his screen, tone casual.

“Why did you secretly photograph me?”

“I’m openly photographing you.”

Ye Zhiqiu put his phone away.

Qin Jianhe finally looked up.

“I meant before. The screenshot Renzhi sent me. The ‘brother’s waist’ one.”

Ye Zhiqiu: “…”

“After we added each other on WeChat, I didn’t see that post on your Moments.”

Qin Jianhe added.

He’d deliberately checked his Moments?

Ye Zhiqiu was a bit shocked.

Well, the damage was already done.

And he’d probably face worse when they entered Qin Xusheng’s hospital room.

Ye Zhiqiu unlocked his phone, opened his Moments, and handed it to Qin Jianhe.

“Never let go of my hand, okay?”

Qin Jianhe read softly.

He seemed amused.

The corner of his mouth lifted almost imperceptibly.

“I set it to visible only to Jiang Nan.”

Ye Zhiqiu said.

“Because he likes you. And this will make him miserable and jealous.”

Qin Jianhe said nothing, just looked at him calmly.

“Because he did it to me first.”

Ye Zhiqiu said, tilting his face up slightly.

That light pink mole on his nose caught Qin Jianhe’s eye again.

“If he did it to you first, then he deserves it.”

Qin Jianhe handed the phone back, his tone level.

Ye Zhiqiu paused.

Qin Jianhe didn’t call him vicious.

He said Jiang Nan deserved it…

His tone was cold, but Qin Jianhe always seemed to say things differently from everyone else.

Something hard inside Ye Zhiqiu’s heart seemed to get knocked, unexpectedly, sending a faint tingle through him.

“So.”

He tested Qin Jianhe’s limits.

“After today, can we put this behind us? You’re not still mad?”

Qin Jianhe really knew how to torment people.

He’d already stockpiled plenty of photos.

Ye Zhiqiu desperately needed closure.

“Not mad. Bothered.”

Qin Jianhe said.

“But you can photograph me openly, with my knowledge, as long as you don’t violate my privacy.”

His gaze returned to the tablet.

Unwilling to believe anyone could stay obsessed with such a boring game.

“Until you get tired of it.”

How long had Jiang Nan’s behavior lasted in his past life?

Ye Zhiqiu couldn’t remember.

Probably not long after he and Qi Xin got together.

Ye Zhiqiu counted on his fingers.

Might as well push his luck.

He was determined to get back all the grief he was about to receive in Qin Xusheng’s hospital room.

“Ten years.”

He looked at Qin Jianhe.

“I want ten years.”