The Shutter’s Click

The journey home stretched before Xiang Qing, feeling as endless as a century. Shen Lanzhi remained utterly silent, her quietude creating an atmosphere so suffocatingly oppressive that Xiang Qing felt as though she might cease to breathe.

This oppressive silence was a thousand times more terrifying than even Gu Wei, that madwoman, railing at her face.

No, she couldn’t endure this any longer.

“Sister Lanzhi,” she began, her voice cutting through the suffocating stillness, “Your dress today is truly beautiful.”

Shen Lanzhi merely tilted her head to glance at Xiang Qing before turning away again.

“You wore this yesterday too,” Shen Lanzhi stated flatly.

Xiang Qing’s jaw dropped. ‘She was utterly stumped.’

Undeterred, she pressed on, searching for another topic. “The moon tonight is truly full, isn’t it?”

“It’s overcast,” Shen Lanzhi replied.

Xiang Qing’s spirit plummeted. ‘She wished the ground would swallow her whole.’

Clearly, the usual conversational tactics were utterly useless. She needed to escalate her approach.

At the next intersection, Xiang Qing abruptly halted, seizing Shen Lanzhi’s arm.

Shen Lanzhi’s body visibly stiffened, and she stopped to look at Xiang Qing.

Beneath the streetlamp, half her face was illuminated, the other half shrouded in shadow.

“Sister Lanzhi, are you angry with me?” Xiang Qing decided to confront her directly; beating around the bush any longer would surely lead to her own myocardial infarction.

Shen Lanzhi remained silent, only lowering her gaze.

‘A glimmer of hope!’

Bracing herself, Xiang Qing launched into her performance.

“I know I shouldn’t have run off and made you worry,” she said, her voice softening with a hint of grievance.

“I was just… feeling a bit down because my friend was hospitalized. But I swear, I was thinking of you the whole time, guessing you’d make me something delicious.”

She leaned closer to the insulated food container in Shen Lanzhi’s hand, sniffing dramatically like a small puppy.

“It smells so good! I knew it was yours the moment I smelled it! Only you, Sister Lanzhi, can stew such a fragrant soup. The instant I caught a whiff of this aroma, all my troubles vanished, and my stomach ache disappeared!”

A subtle relaxation finally eased Shen Lanzhi’s taut shoulders.

She spoke softly, her voice trembling slightly. “…Do you truly mean that?”

“Absolutely! Truer than the balance in my bank account!”

Xiang Qing raised three fingers, all but swearing to the heavens. “Sister Lanzhi, please don’t ignore me. I feel worse now than I did watching my friend get an IV at the hospital.”

Though Shen Lanzhi knew Xiang Qing was fabricating, a faint smile of genuine happiness still graced her lips.

Afterward, the two of them walked home together.

Outside the panoramic floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights sparkled brilliantly, yet inside, a profound silence reigned.

This suffocating atmosphere was more stifling than the scent of disinfectant in the emergency room.

Xiang Qing felt a dull ache begin in her stomach once more, half from the spicy food, half from sheer terror.

She watched as Shen Lanzhi gently placed the insulated food container on the marble bar, her movements elegant, yet imbued with the calm before a storm.

No, if this silence persisted, she would surely be choked by it.

“Sister Lanzhi,” Xiang Qing carefully pieced together her words, hoping to chisel away at the impasse, “How did you… so coincidentally, wait for me outside the hospital for so long?”

Shen Lanzhi turned, but did not immediately reply.

She simply gazed at Xiang Qing in silence, her eyes, usually brimming with a gentle smile, now resembled a fathomless pool of dark water.

Xiang Qing felt a prickling sensation on her scalp.

‘Oh no, it seems I’ve chosen the wrong opening line.’

“I sent you a message, but you didn’t reply,” Shen Lanzhi finally said, her voice still remarkably soft.

“Ah, my phone was on silent,” Xiang Qing stammered, offering a dry chuckle. “It wasn’t convenient at the hospital, you know, hehe.” Her palms were already slick with sweat.

“I followed you.”

Four words, delivered plainly, devoid of any emotion.

Xiang Qing’s smile froze on her face.

“From the moment you left,” Shen Lanzhi continued, her tone matter-of-fact, “to that hotpot restaurant, watching you and An Qi compete in eating spicy food. Then to the hospital emergency room, where I heard her call you…”

Shen Lanzhi paused, tilting her head slightly, a subtle, almost imperceptible curve playing on her lips.

“…Mom.”

The first stop on her ‘social death world tour’ was right here in Gu Wei’s living room. Not only had Shen Lanzhi seen it, she had heard it! That earth-shattering, ghost-wailing “Mom”!

Xiang Qing’s face instantly flushed crimson, the heat spreading from her cheeks all the way to her earlobes.

“I…”

She opened her mouth, but found herself utterly speechless. Any explanation at this moment would be pathetically inadequate. Shen Lanzhi had laid all her cards on the table; what pretense could Xiang Qing possibly maintain now?

“Drink your soup first.”

Shen Lanzhi didn’t press the issue. She unscrewed the lid of the insulated food container, and a warm, inviting aroma instantly filled the air. “You’ve just come from the hospital; your stomach must be upset.”

Xiang Qing mechanically walked over, accepting the bowl Shen Lanzhi offered.

With her head bowed, she used the act of drinking soup to conceal her nearly shattering expression, all the while subtly observing Shen Lanzhi from the corner of her eye.

No anger.

Not only was there no wrath on Shen Lanzhi’s face, but rather… a profound calm?

This realization caused the soup spoon in Xiang Qing’s hand to tremble.

‘Is the gentle sister done pretending, fast-forwarding directly to psycho stalker? That madwoman Gu Wei only wants my person, but this sister wants to put me under twenty-four-hour, no-blind-spot surveillance!’

“Is it good?” Shen Lanzhi asked.

“Delicious! So delicious!” Xiang Qing immediately nodded vigorously, her survival instinct fully engaged. “Sister Lanzhi, your culinary skills are so exquisite, even Michelin three-star chefs would have to yield to you!”

“That’s good,” Shen Lanzhi replied, taking the empty bowl from her and placing it in the sink.

“You smell of disinfectant. Go take a shower and change into some clean clothes so you can sleep more comfortably.”

“Yes, yes, yes, I’m going right away!” Xiang Qing felt as if she’d been granted a general amnesty, turning to bolt towards the bathroom.

“Take off your clothes and put them in the laundry basket,” Shen Lanzhi’s voice drifted eerily from behind her. “I’ll wash them for you.”

Xiang Qing’s steps abruptly screeched to a halt.

‘Wash… wash her clothes? Even her intimates?’

She stiffly turned around, forcing a smile that was uglier than a grimace.

“No, no, no, there’s no need to trouble Sister Lanzhi! I can handle such a small matter myself! Really!”

‘Are you kidding me?!’

‘Let a woman who just admitted to stalking her wash her underwear? That’s more terrifying than fighting for her life against that little devil, An Qi!’

Shen Lanzhi watched her, but didn’t insist, merely nodding slightly.

“Alright.”

That single “alright,” however, sounded more chilling to Xiang Qing than a thousand “no’s.”

Xiang Qing practically fled into the bathroom, quickly locking the door behind her.

Leaning against the door, her heart pounded wildly; she felt as though she had just narrowly escaped the gates of hell.

She took the fastest, most frantic shower of her life. Not even bothering to rinse off all the bubbles, she hastily wrapped herself in a towel, unable to bear staying a single second longer.

She cautiously poked half her head out through the door crack, vigilantly observing the movements outside.

The living room lights were dim. Shen Lanzhi wasn’t there. ‘Was it safe?’

Just as Xiang Qing was about to let out a sigh of relief, her gaze swept towards the bedroom, and she instantly froze.

Standing beside her laundry basket was a figure. It was Shen Lanzhi.

With her back to the bathroom, she held up her phone, its screen casting a glow upon her focused profile.

She was facing the basket, filled with Xiang Qing’s recently discarded clothes, still reeking of hotpot and disinfectant.

Then, Xiang Qing heard a sound, extremely faint, yet unmistakably clear. Click.

It was the shutter sound of a phone camera.

Xiang Qing’s pupils instantly contracted to pinpricks.

‘She took a picture… she took a picture of my dirty clothes? Why would she take a picture of my dirty clothes?! Is this some new kind of perversion?! Am I not perverted enough, or is this world just too insane?!’

Xiang Qing felt her blood run cold; she dared not move, even forgetting to breathe.

Shen Lanzhi seemed quite pleased with her ‘work.’ She lowered her phone, glanced down at the basket once more, then turned and walked with unhurried steps towards the living room sofa.

The entire process was as natural as stepping out to pour a glass of water.

It wasn’t until Shen Lanzhi’s figure had completely vanished from sight that Xiang Qing, as if all her strength had been drained, slowly slid down the doorframe to sit on the floor.

‘This was a different kind of “it’s over.“‘

She abruptly sprang to her feet, rushing towards the laundry basket.

Grabbing the basket, she scrambled back into the bathroom, locking the door once more.

She dumped all the clothes into the sink, turned on the faucet, squeezed out half a bottle of laundry detergent, and began scrubbing them with frantic intensity.

‘They had to be washed! Tonight! Hand-washed through the night, scrubbed clean even if sparks flew!’