47. You didn’t do it
The two went to the bar to have some fun.
Deng Shilang did not go into the bartending area, but sat at the bar and asked his friend who was also on nightshift to make him a drink.
Liang Litang was a little hungry, so he ordered some fried potatoes for a midnight snack. After the food was served, he picked up a fry and dipped it in ketchup, then ate it boredly.
They happened to hit the busiest time of the year, when the financial world was very active and everyone was keeping an eye on HKEX's disclosures and market statistics for annual review and analysis.
Deng Shilang's department is busy year-round. Every day, three or four companies apply for listing on the main board, and applications are constantly being processed and rejected. Financial reports and asset audits are also constantly being followed up. At the end of the year, they must also review the IPO fundraising figures for the year. As for Liang Litang's department, they are the main force maintaining trading, responsible for delivering the average daily trading volume of derivatives and trading products to date, continuing to promote futures and several stocks until the Christmas holiday.
"It's a shame the market is only closed for two days. Other workers can get ten days off, but we might be on standby at any time." Liang Litang wiped his hands with a tissue, sighed, and then felt relieved. "Forget it, after all, I'm an exchange employee. Compared to those working in finance, I don't have to worry so much."
Deng Shilang agreed. It would be easier to come to the bar after work. He swirled his glass and asked, "So, how are you spending Christmas?"
"I don't know. My parents also want to go to Italy, but they're still waiting and watching." Liang Litang started gossiping again at this point, tilting his head and asking, "Did Rosalie tell you that we were actually going to Italy last month, but because the tea restaurant was too busy, we put it on hold and instead came to Hong Kong to visit relatives."
"No." Deng Shilang had never heard of it, but he could guess it.
Liang Litang put on an expression of disbelief and said, "I really doubt that she likes you. Was this how you communicated when you were dating before?"
"She once injured her knee while running on the playground. She went to the infirmary to disinfect it herself without telling me. It was only when I hugged her later that I realized she was in pain." Deng Shilang didn't know whether to say he was used to her or not used to her keeping silent.
Liang Litang held his dizzy head and dipped a French fry into ketchup, saying sincerely, "I don't think she wants to make you worry, but she doesn't easily tell others when she's hurt. She strikes me as a very tough girl with a strong self-protective shell. She doesn't mind hurting others, but she won't tolerate being hurt by others. She's completely different from Gigi."
Deng Shilang laughed, "Do you think I don't know what you said?"
He knew Yao Ling's opinions and character; she still had reservations about him. Otherwise, she wouldn't have just given him a try, tying their relationship to a one-month bet. By the time they graduated from high school, she no longer had any intentions of a long-term relationship, so she hid some things from him. He let them go without asking, creating a rift between them.
Liang Litang looked at his reaction, put his arm around his shoulder, slapped him, and then gave him a sweet treat. "She has a soft side towards you. At least she won't fail to reply to your messages."
"I may not reply to your message." Deng Shilang's familiarity with her was deep in his heart.
"Wow, you don't mind then?"
"I do mind, but every time she sees me she'll take the initiative, and then I just let it go."
Liang Litang burst into laughter, his earrings vibrating back and forth. He now fully understood how his good friend had been eaten to death. He raised his glass in a toast, "Anyway, you two have been together before, so you have a precedent. I'm nothing, so I won't say anything."
Deng Shilang took the wine glass and took the last sip.
In the past, even when they were dating, she wouldn't initiate contact with him, rarely expressing superficial concern or longing, as if she didn't need him to provide a sense of security to be able to get along. But if she truly missed him, she would tell him, and she would say it very directly. He found that as long as she brought it up, he couldn't resist her soft but persistent longing, and he would surrender immediately, no matter how late or tired he was, he would go to see her.
However, now is different from the past. They are no longer high school students, have jobs, and are geographically separated by long distances, so they can't meet immediately. They need mutual understanding and cooperation to maintain an international relationship.
In the next few days, Yao Ling was very busy and had almost no schedule. After sending out the finished products of the corridor photography, she successfully took over the studio project, and learned from Watina that an artist urgently needed a photographer.
Watina sent her a working photo on Instagram. She originally thought it was an ordinary business photo shoot, but it turned out to be an exhibition of human body installation art, and the shooting requirements were somewhat personalized.
The curator was a young, Milan-based Icelandic artist named Evinder, only twenty years old, with two curatorial experiences under his belt. When she met him, she noticed he was tall and strong, wearing a baseball jacket over a blue shirt. His skin was a pale white, a rare sight among Milanese locals. His face was a bit austere, with a high nose bridge and a pierced brow bone.
This person reminded her of the rebellious young people she saw on the bus and train in college. They liked to wear sweatshirts over their heads and walked through the stations in a very cold manner.
Watina is his friend, but she is not the model for his human installation art this time. Her shooting schedule is free, so she is here to accompany him to watch the art and let everyone get to know each other.
The three of them met at a gallery, which was the space curated by Evander. It had been decorated to look like an industrial warehouse, with graffiti on the walls, pipes and bricks on the floor, and shabby tables and chairs.
“This is the photographer I mentioned.” Watina pulled them together, introducing them back and forth. “This is my artist friend.”
Evander didn't say hello, but just handed a stack of documents to Yao Ling.
Yao Ling didn't say hello and began to read the artistic concepts and methodologies in the planning proposal, and learned that this exhibition explored public and private issues of eroticism.
"Are you looking for me because I took a Polaroid photo for you last time?" She roughly understood what was going on and asked them for confirmation.
Vadina smiled generously, "Yes, Evander saw it, and he really wants to work with you."
Evander's hair was long, covering his eyebrows and eyes slightly. "The models will be here soon. They're a couple, having sex in the gallery office. Please take a series of nude photos in the office, preferably in dim light, without exposing their faces. I'll project your photos onto the gallery wall for the audience to see. I'll record their voices and set up speakers outside. The roar will be like the rumble of a train passing through a warehouse, and the excited screams will be like the chirping of birds flying by."
He continued to explain his idea in a very robotic voice, and then explained the special circumstances to her. Since the originally scheduled photographer could not come, he needed her help. Because this was a real-time delivery, the model, photographer and art planner had to be present at the same time.
Yao Ling didn't react much. She was only responsible for filming, without any guidance or corrections. It was very easy work, so why not do it? She had done nude photos before, so this was nothing new to her and she quickly got along.
According to Evander's plan, they would give demonstrations in the morning and open the exhibition in the afternoon for the audience to watch.
Yao Ling was filming in her office, her phone on silent mode. As she was filming, she felt the phone vibrate in her pocket, but she couldn't stop and didn't answer it until the exhibition was over.
Work was over, and it was already evening. Sitting in the gallery office, she called back, not expecting Deng Shilang to answer in the wee hours. But half a minute later, his voice suddenly came through the receiver, a little hoarse and sleepy.
"You didn't answer my call before," he said.
Yao Ling sat with her camera on her lap. "I just finished shooting at an installation art exhibition."
Deng Shilang rubbed his eyes in the dim room, and the quilt rustled towards her receiver. "Okay, I got it. Next time if you're busy, you can tell me in advance. I won't bother you by calling."
She smiled, sensing his anger, and fumbled with the camera's buttons. "Sometimes I'm in a hurry and may not have time to tell you. I understand you, and you have to understand me too."
Deng Shilang swung between being reasonable and caring, and sighed, "I just want to see you."
"Then when will you come?" Yao Ling asked.
"Christmas." Deng Shilang listened to her breathing and lowered his voice: "Wait for me."
She replied, "I'll wait for you. Go to sleep. It will be dawn in a few hours."
He kissed her across the phone, "Remember to take care of yourself. You sound a little tired."
Yao Ling agreed, said goodnight, and hung up. Finishing her work for the day, she took her camera, said goodbye to Vadina and the others, and took the bus back to her apartment.
The exhibition was to be held once more before Christmas. Afterward, Vadina suggested that everyone have dinner together, hot dishes by the fire in a nearby old tavern. Yao Ling didn't refuse and joined them there to keep warm. Their conversation wasn't much about fashion or art, but mostly about ordinary things like hobbies and Christmas plans.
Evander is not good at speaking, and has the coldness and arrogance of a Nordic youth and the autism of an artist. After work, Yao Ling does not have any common topics with men who are much younger than her, and they hardly talk.
The old tavern had a small jazz dance hall, where they spent their evenings after dinner. At the table, Evander glanced at Yao Ling and suddenly asked, "Now that the exhibition is over, what are your thoughts on it?"
Yao Ling ordered a glass of fruit wine and sipped through the straw. Since he asked, she said, "In the 1970s, there were artists who masturbated under the table."
Evander was expressionless, like a machine. "I know. I'm different from him."
She didn't comment. At this age, she always thought she was different from others, but when she got older, she gradually didn't care.
Watina and the couple were dancing on the dance floor, filming them with her phone. Evander had gone to the bathroom, leaving Yao Ling alone at the table. Suddenly, someone approached them from the shadows and placed a bag of gummy candies. She guessed it was CBD gummies, but she wasn't interested. Annoying that the stranger wouldn't leave, she gave him the middle finger.
Just then, Evander returned. He was tall, patted the stranger, and directly reached out to pick up a candy and put it in his mouth, emphasizing that he should leave. The stranger saw him eat it, clutched the candy, and walked away with a drunken gait. She politely thanked him for stopping her and left.
Perhaps due to the cold wind on the way home, Yao Ling caught a cold. She took a pill and went back to work. During this time, Deng Shilang had been awake for a while and called her on FaceTime. When she answered, her breathing was hot.
"You didn't tell me what you did." Deng Shilang said suddenly.
Yao Ling covered her forehead, which was gradually getting hot, and said, "Eat and have some wine."
"I saw the IG story posted by Watina. She casually took a picture of someone giving you gummy and a man next to you eating it for you. Tell them to get lost." His tone suddenly became serious.
Her head hurt, and she just wanted to scold him, "If you have the guts, don't make demands over the phone. Why don't you just go to hell? I don't like long-distance relationships. It's tiring."
After hearing this, Deng Shilang noticed something was wrong with her and frowned worriedly, "You're sick."
Yao Ling collapsed on the sofa, feeling limp and powerless. "I'm unharmed and doing well. I'm more powerful than you can imagine. Don't treat me as a victim."
He felt distressed and helpless. "I asked you to take care of yourself, but you're wasting your health. Now you're pretending to be strong in front of me."
"I'm not trying to be brave. This is how I got through life alone. It's almost the same with or without you. Being in an international relationship means waiting for your messages every day and being questioned by you."
"So you feel annoyed now. It's only been a few weeks and you can't stand it anymore." Deng Shilang thought he had heard wrong.
"Yes, I can't stand it. I'm not on vacation now, I'm working. I have hundreds of photos to process, and I have to meet deadlines even when I'm sick. You're not only useless, but you're also causing me trouble."
Deng Shilang threw the cup into the sink in the kitchen. "Don't I have to work? I work overtime every day, getting up early and staying up late to take care of you."
Yao Ling went to the refrigerator to get some ice cubes and covered her forehead to cool down. "Then there's no need to argue. Go to work. Bye."
"Why do you always push me away?" he asked finally.
Her eyes were red. "You can't appear in front of me right away. You didn't do it."
"Okay." Deng Shilang seemed to be agreeing to something.
There were only a few days left until Christmas, so he took a leave of absence and immediately bought a plane ticket to Milan.
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