The temperature of the palm
The temperature drop came unexpectedly.
In the alley at five in the morning, the cold wind felt like countless fine needles, pricking and numbing exposed skin. Ah Yu wrapped his windbreaker tighter, but his fingers still wouldn't obey him. When he pressed the shutter button on the camera, the stiffness in his fingertips made it impossible for him to even adjust the shutter speed by half a stop. The morning mist in the viewfinder was slowly dissipating, and the thin frost on the gray tile roofs gleamed coldly in the early sun. This was the scene he had been waiting for all week, but his frozen hands felt like they didn't belong to him. Each press of the shutter required immense effort, and the edges of the photos always trembled slightly.
"I told you you should wear more clothes."
Ah Yu was gritting his teeth, trying to adjust the aperture, when Zhong Hua's voice came from behind him. He turned around and saw Zhong Hua standing against the light at the alley entrance, holding a thermal bag in his hand. White breath escaped from his lips, quickly torn apart by the wind. Zhong Hua was wearing a thick, dark gray coat today, zipped up all the way, revealing only half of his face. There were even some fine white frosting on his eyelashes, like a layer of unmelted snow.
"Why are you here?" Ah Yu's voice was also frozen, and the end of her sentence was trembling.
“Lin Wanqing said you left at three in the morning.” Zhong Hua walked to his side and untied the knot of the thermos. “It’s freshly brewed ginger tea, drink it while it’s hot.” When the lid of the thermos was unscrewed, the warm aroma of ginger wafted out, mixed with the cold air and entered his nostrils. Ah Yu suddenly felt a little soreness in the tip of his nose.
He took the cup and sipped. The scalding liquid slid down his throat, but didn't immediately warm his limbs. The camera was still hanging around his neck, the metal strap digging painfully into his collarbone. He put down the cup to adjust the settings, but his fingers slipped as soon as they touched the dial, and he clicked his tongue.
Zhong Hua's gaze fell on his hands. Ah Yu's hands weren't large, his fingers were long and slender, and his knuckles were slightly raised from years of holding a camera. There was a light brown callus on the base of his thumb, a mark from countless shutter clicks. But at this moment, his hands were red from the cold, and the fingertips had an unhealthy bluish-white tinge, making even bending them seem difficult.
"Don't move."
Zhong Hua suddenly reached out and, without a word, grabbed Ah Yu's hand, pulling it entirely into his palm. His palm was warm, still carrying the warmth of the contents of his pocket; his dry palm pressed against Ah Yu's cold hand, like a flame suddenly approaching. Ah Yu was startled and tried to pull her hand away, but he held it even tighter.
"Your hands are so cold." Zhong Hua lowered his head, his warm breath falling on Ah Yu's hands, carrying a hint of ginger tea. His fingertips gently brushed against the calluses on Ah Yu's hands, the movement very light, as if confirming something, "Back when you were taking pictures of the sunrise at Qinghai Lake, your hands were frozen like this too."
Ah Yu's heart skipped a beat.
That happened four years ago. They went to Qinghai for a research trip as part of a studio project. To capture the sunrise over the lake, he got up at four in the morning and waited by the lake for two hours, wrapped only in a thin windbreaker. The wind was even stronger that day than today, making it hard to stand. His hands were frozen red, and he couldn't even fasten the camera strap properly. He managed to take a few shots, and when he got back to his lodgings, he developed a high fever and slept fitfully for two days.
He only remembered that when he was delirious with fever, he felt someone wiping his forehead with a wet towel, and he vaguely heard Zhong Hua talking to the local doctor in a low voice, with a kind of anxiety he had never heard before. But these memories were like glass blurred by moisture, and he couldn't see the specific outlines.
"How did you know?" Ah Yu's voice was very soft, almost as if it could be blown away by the wind.
Zhong Hua looked up, his eyes reflecting the rising sun in the distance, so bright it was almost blinding. “I was right behind you,” he said, his fingertips still resting on Ah Yu’s hand. “You were squatting by the lake adjusting the settings, your hands were so frozen you couldn’t even unscrew the lens cap. I was standing behind you, wanting to go help you, but I was afraid of disturbing you while you were shooting the sunrise.”
He paused, his breath spreading between them like a thin veil. "I wanted to hold your hand back then," Zhong Hua said softly, with a hint of self-deprecating laughter, "but I felt it would be too abrupt, so I could only watch from the sidelines, my heart pounding with anxiety."
Ah Yu looked at him. Zhong Hua's eyelashes were long, trembling slightly in the wind. Sunlight fell on his profile, clearly outlining the lines of his jaw. He suddenly remembered that after returning from Qinghai, when he was organizing photos, he found an extra picture of his back in his camera—a picture of him squatting by the lake, the distant lake surface shimmering, his windbreaker billowing in the wind, and in the corner of the photo, half a foot wearing a dark shoe, the edge of the shoe covered in mud from the lake.
He initially thought it was Lin Wanqing who took the photo, and asked her about it. Lin Wanqing smiled and shook her head, saying that she had overslept that day and hadn't gone to the lake at all.
It wasn't her after all.
It turns out that person was always there.
Ah Yu suddenly reached out and gripped Zhong Hua's hand tightly.
Zhong Hua paused for a moment and looked at him. Ah Yu's fingers were still cold, but he was gripping them tightly, and his fingertips were even trembling slightly. His eyes were bright, as if they were filled with stars, and the corners of his mouth were slightly raised, with an indescribable smile.
"Click".
The crisp sound of a camera shutter echoed through the quiet alley.
Zhong Hua looked down and saw that the camera around Ah Yu's neck was pointing directly at their clasped hands. His hand was larger, his palm warm, enveloping Ah Yu's cold hand, while Ah Yu's fingers clenched tightly back. The shadows of their hands were stretched long by the rising sun, falling on the bluish-gray stone pavement like two intertwined lines.
"Why are you taking pictures of this?" Zhong Hua's ears were burning. He tried to let go, but Ah Yu held on even tighter.
"Let's keep this as a memento." Ah Yu smiled, her eyes crinkling, "To commemorate that someone finally dared to hold my hand."
Zhong Hua's heart was pounding, as if it would burst out of his chest. He was about to say something when he heard a "pfft" laugh behind him.
The two turned around at the same time and saw Lin Wanqing standing at the alley entrance, holding her phone with the screen facing them. She was secretly making a peace sign with her other hand, and her smile was impossible to hide.
This chapter is not finished yet. Please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content!
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
