AFM Ch 11

The call didn’t last long.

Jing Mian used the excuse of needing to stream to quickly say goodbye to Mr. Ren.

“…” Jing Mian stared blankly at his call history for a while.

Had Ren Xingwan noticed?

…

He certainly did.

What café had a television, anyway?

Jing Mian lowered his head, feeling a little embarrassed. His words from earlier had fallen into the microphone without missing a beat. He hadn’t recognized Ren Xingwan as his childhood friend when they first met, and he might have given the idea that Ren was some old pervert.

Jing Mian pressed his lips together, thinking that this awkwardness would only last for a moment. He’d forget about it by tomorrow, so long as Mr. Ren didn’t decide to call him out on his mistakes later.

After all, this might be the only time he was actually messed up.

***

The day Ren Xingwan arrived at A University, the atmosphere on campus was markedly different from normal.

As soon as class ended, students rushed out of the classrooms, some on bikes, others on campus buses, all heading quickly toward the stadium.

The library was nearly empty, with only a few scattered books left to reserve seats and a small number of students silently studying. The typical cafeteria crowd was nowhere to be seen, leaving the lunch ladies standing bewildered with ladles in hand.

It wouldn’t have been an issue if it were any other celebrity; it would have been less disruptive. But this was Ren Congmian they were talking about.

How many times would you ever get to see such a well-known celebrity in your life?

The school seemed to have anticipated this situation, informing security guards that students from other universities and members of the public were not allowed inside, lest the crowd become too large and cause a stampede. Students were asked to show their student IDs to enter campus.

As for Jing Mian, who had planned to return to his dormitory…

…Found himself carrying a DSLR camera, forced into duty.

The reason was that a promotional department classmate had asked him after class earlier that day to take some photos of Ren Congmian speaking at the evening event. They wanted materials for campus posters and the public account.

So, with the DSLR camera in hand, Jing Mian went to the event.

The classmate had specifically mentioned that the camera was quite expensive and his father’s prized possession; the last time he accidentally damaged one of its corners, he’d almost been beaten black and blue. With his exams approaching, the classmate had asked Jing Mian, the most reliable person in their year, to help him out.

So Jing Mian handled the camera with utmost care, doing his best to be cautious.

The temperature was high during the day, so Jing Mian asked Li Dong to return his coat to his dorm room while he followed the crowd to the venue with his camera.

He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should greet Mr. Ren when they met later.

“…”

In the end, he decided to pretend he didn’t recognize the man.

A regular college student like himself befriending a celebrity would raise eyebrows and seem strange, especially with so many people around. Whether or not Ren Xingwan would notice him was another question altogether.

Jing Mian turned on the camera, adjusted the light sensitivity, and pointed it at the gradually filling student crowd beneath the dais, snapping a photo.

After an unknown length of time, the replay still showed a dazzling sunset, but the sky outside the camera had long since darkened, leaving only the lights around the stadium to illuminate the surroundings.

It was almost the end of autumn, with only a few days until winter.

Over the past two days, City A has experienced significant temperature changes between day and night. In the day, you could get by with just a thin layer of clothes, but at night, you would wish for two layers of jackets.

The students below have been waiting for two hours. Many sat right on the grass, while others paced in place, rubbing their hands to keep warmth.

“It’s about time, right?”

“Yeah, six o’clock at night. Ten minutes to go.”

“Damn, it’s freezing… Should’ve brought more hand warmers.”

…

Jing Mian had misjudged the situation.

He was wearing only a shirt with a hoodie, and after just a few minutes of standing by the stage, his sleeves were freezing. His fingers became cold, even his toes. Jing Mian held the camera on his lap, if he knew the temperature dropped to this level, he would never let Li Dong bring the coat back to the dorm.

But there were still five minutes left until the event started. Jing Mian glanced at his watch; there wasn’t enough time to go back and retrieve it.

Jing Mian glanced at his watch and decided not to go for the coat.

Soon, the temporary stage, which had only been built up three days before, was lit.

Ren Congmian has arrived.

The students shouted in enthusiasm, standing up and lifting their light boards and glow sticks, rushing toward the stage.

Jing Mian jumped off the stage, turned on his camera, wrapped the strap around his wrist twice, and hung it securely.

Everything was ready.

Before long, through Jing Mian’s camera lens, Ren Congmian appeared on stage wearing a dark suit with a white shirt underneath. His tall figure was accentuated by a long coat, his legs were straight and slender.

Under the spotlight, his sharp, gorgeous features became even more prominent. His curled lashes and cold, aloof demeanor made hearts race.

Jing Mian swallowed.

He worked professionally, holding the camera steady while taking several photos.

Ren Xingwan’s face appeared flawless from every angle. Jing Mian tried different angles and discovered that the results were always the same, breathtakingly attractive.

It was as if the word “handsome” had been engraved into the film.

That man is his husband.

They were legally married, with a certificate and everything.

He was here at his university for an event, and Jing Mian was assigned to photograph him?

The more Jing Mian thought about it, the more bizarre it appeared.

If someone had told him just a few days ago about the changes that would occur in his life, he probably wouldn’t have believed it himself.

After the host finished speaking, Ren Congmian seized the microphone from a staff member and began his speech.

Jing Mian’s position was somewhat to the side of the stage, and he realized he had been overly concerned. From Ren Xingwan’s perspective, even if he stood exactly beneath the stage, he would be swallowed up by the mass of the audience.

Furthermore, throughout a speech, the man’s attention would naturally be focused. Ren Xingwan was unlikely to notice Jing Mian unless he actively sought him out.

Apparently, the organizers prepared a lot of gifts following the event: signed photos, merchandise, and tickets to various programs and interviews. Even if someone wasn’t a fan, the gifts were very appealing.

As Jing Mian concentrated on the stage, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at the screen—it was a message from Song Yuhang.

[Mianmian, you didn’t bring a coat, did you?]

[Are you at the stadium?]

[I’ll bring it over for you.]

At that moment, the frozen Jing Mian felt like he had found his savior.

He quickly freed one hand and typed: [Thank you!]

A few seconds later, another message appeared:

[How to repay me?]

Jing Mian: “…”

Not long after, Song Yuhang’s phone buzzed. He looked at the message:

Jing Mian: [Dad]

Song Yuhang: “Pfft…”

Back at the dorm, Song Yuhang almost spat out the water he’d been drinking.

If it was someone else, like Li Dong or Jiang Chen, they might have argued back or tried to resist the nickname a bit. But Jing Mian was always so sweet that it was hard to keep teasing him.

Too cute to handle.

Song Yuhang stood up and spotted two coats hanging on Jing Mian’s rack.

One was black and the other was light blue.

The black one was clearly larger than the blue one.

Song Yuhang: “?”

He vaguely remembered Jing Mian wearing the black coat a few days before. Even though it was big, the sleeves at least covered his hands and appeared to be thick enough to keep him warm.

So, Song Yuhang took the black coat and left.

***

Jing Mian put his phone away and resumed taking pictures, professionally capturing several more shots.

Soon, he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder.

He turned his head, surprised to see a tall boy smiling at him.

Under the soft lighting, the boy appeared tall and cheerful, radiating youthful energy.

Jing Mian soon recognized him—it was He Zhiyang, a junior student. He Zhiyang leaned down slightly and asked in a lower voice, “Senior, why are you here?”

The boy’s height made it necessary for him to lean in slightly to talk to Jing Mian, and the noise in the background was loud

Jing Mian tightened his grip on the camera, maintaining the same angle and lighting as before, and responded honestly, “Another student who was responsible for photography had something come up and asked me to help.”

He Zhiyang nodded.

However, upon realizing that Jing Mian was only wearing a shirt and a sweater, with fingers turning red from holding the cold camera, he frowned slightly.

He Zhiyang silently took off his jacket behind Jing Mian.

Jing Mian was still holding the camera when he suddenly felt something heavy cover his shoulders.

The jacket was thick and still warm from the boy’s body, instantly warding off the cold.

Jing Mian was startled.

While draping the coat, He Zhiyang kept his hand on Jing Mian’s shoulder. Though there was no actual physical contact, but from certain angles, it appeared to be an intimate gesture—as if he was half-holding Jing Mian.

Jing Mian quickly put aside his camera and took off the coat, returning it to He Zhiyang.

“No need, thank you, my friend already brought me a coat,” Jing Mian politely rejected.

He Zhiyang’s hand froze momentarily, and he was about to say something when Song Yuhang’s voice came from behind them.

Song Yuhang arrived just in time.

In his hands was Ren Xingwan’s coat, and as he held it out, the mist in his breath trembled slightly. “Mianmian! I finally found you.”

“Here’s your coat.”

Without hesitation, Song Yuhang handed over Ren Xingwan’s coat and helped Jing Mian put it on.

…

It was seamless.

Jing Mian raised his hand, the sleeves covered all but the tips of his fingers. Confused, he realized it was Mr. Ren’s coat.

When he gazed at Song Yuhang, his friend gave him a “look, I picked the right one” kind of expression.

Jing Mian smiled helplessly.

But seeing the coat immediately made him think of its owner.

Jing Mian refocused and looked back toward the stage.

Just as he lifted his gaze…

He felt Mr. Ren’s cold, piercing gaze on his shoulder, like a cold wind.

It was colder than A University’s winter.