AVRL 11

The shoot at Sheshan was scheduled for a weekend.

Early on Sunday morning, Meng Chi was still in the middle of a dream when he heard knocking at the door—continuous and insistent, forcing him to temporarily bid farewell to the Sandman and regain consciousness.

When he pulled open the door, Yang Zile was already fully prepared, radiating youthful energy.

“You’re up this early?” Meng Chi yawned. “Isn’t there no class today?”

“Yeah, but we’re taking photos today. You haven’t forgotten, have you?” Seeing his drowsy eyes, Yang Zile immediately reached out and pushed him toward the bathroom to wash up. “Hurry up, hurry up, don’t be late.”

It took Meng Chi a moment to process what they were supposed to be doing today.

Seeing Yang Zile so enthusiastic, Meng Chi had no choice but to muster his own spirits.

The address She Shan had given was a standalone villa in Phase One of Zhaomu Li, far from the city center, close to Zewu’s famous tourist attraction “Luoxia Evening Alley,” which meant the property prices here were not much different from those in the city center. But the scenery and air quality were far superior to downtown.

Meng Chi drove with Yang Zile for over an hour before they reached their destination. Since it was their first time here and they were unfamiliar with the roads, they drove around the residential area for quite a while without finding the right place. In the end, She Shan had to come out to meet them.

The white Audi drove directly into the garden attached to the villa. Before even getting out of the car, Meng Chi caught the scent of flowers in the air—cool and fragrant, drifting with the breeze. With each breath, it felt as though even the murky thoughts in his heart were washed clean.

When he opened the car door and took in the full view of the garden, Yang Zile let out a soft “Wow.”

The garden attached to this villa was a real garden.

Dense climbing vines were covered with tiny flowers in shades of pink and red, some even climbing up the villa’s exterior wall all the way to the second-floor balcony. The morning sunlight spilled over them, and the dew glistened with fragmented light, like a waterfall of blossoms. The two tall pear trees in the yard were blanketed in pure white, and as a gentle breeze swept through, petals fluttered down like a floral rain.

As far as the eye could see, there were clusters of vibrant purples and reds—the garden was bursting with spring colors.

“Is this your house?” Yang Zile asked, gazing at the beautiful little villa before him, while silently wondering—did photographers really make this much money?

“No, I’m not from Zewu. Why would I buy a house here?” She Shan said. “This is my friend’s mother’s place. I came here once before and thought it looked great, so I borrowed it for this shoot.”

Why do I feel like you just insulted someone?

Meng Chi muttered this to himself but followed along inside.

The villa’s interior was understated yet luxurious, with even the living room covered in fine velvet carpet. Meng Chi didn’t step on it directly; instead, he found two pairs of disposable slippers in the shoe cabinet by the entrance.

“We’re shooting upstairs,” She Shan said, walking straight toward the spiral staircase beside the living room and leading them to the sitting room on the second floor.

The carpet absorbed the sound of footsteps, and whenever no one spoke, the interior was utterly silent.

When they entered the spacious temporary photography studio with floor-to-ceiling windows, there wasn’t a single person in sight—only several lamps of varying shapes standing around.

“How come there’s no one here?” Yang Zile blurted out.

Meng Chi was also surprised, since Yang Zile had mentioned that She Shan’s shoot this time required more than just one model.

“Today we’re only shooting Meng Chi. What would I need other people for?” She Shan said as he walked in, then paused as if remembering something and turned back. “Oh, that’s not entirely true—there’s also a painter.”

Yang Zile let out an “Oh.”

She Shan glanced at Meng Chi again and smiled. “I cleared the set specially so you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. I didn’t even let my assistants come.”

Meng Chi was unimpressed. “What’s there to be uncomfortable about? It’s not my first time. At least you have a conscience and didn’t make me run around naked outside.”

Though spring had arrived, the temperature was still low. If they were shooting outdoors in this weather, even if She Shan bought out every tea leaf in Youran Teahouse, Meng Chi would still have to… well, think it over before agreeing.

She Shan laughed heartily twice, picking up his camera and fiddling with it as he said, “It’s best if you can relax, otherwise it’ll affect the final shots.”

While She Shan adjusted his equipment, Meng Chi began to survey the room. It was spacious, occupying nearly the entire second floor—likely two rooms knocked into one, with a door at each end and a large floor-to-ceiling window facing south.

There was no furniture inside. With the floor-to-ceiling window as the dividing line, the area near the door held photography equipment, while the other half had items covered with white cloth. From a visible corner of a wooden frame and some traces of paint, Meng Chi guessed that underneath were paintings.

He suspected that the painter She Shan mentioned was likely his friend.

And a male one at that, because when Meng Chi had changed his shoes, he’d noticed two pairs of men’s leather shoes already in the shoe cabinet.

Before long, the inner door opened, and Meng Chi found out exactly who the painter was.

“What are you doing here?”

When Meng Chi saw Yu Tingzhi walk out from the other door, his eyes nearly popped out of his head, and he couldn’t control his voice, which involuntarily rose a few notches.

Yu Tingzhi showed no surprise at seeing him and answered flatly, “The same reason you’re here.”

Huh?

Meng Chi was briefly stunned, then his gaze dropped to the paintbrushes and pigments in Yu Tingzhi’s hands, and it suddenly clicked.

Yu Tingzhi was the painter She Shan had mentioned.

“Oh? Tingzhi, you’re already here.” She Shan walked over, his eyes darting between their faces as he spoke, finally stopping on Meng Chi. “So you two already know each other.”

Meng Chi grunted in acknowledgment.

She Shan narrowed his eyes slightly, then turned his gaze to Yu Tingzhi and asked, “How did you meet?”

“Rear-end collision,” Yu Tingzhi said.

She Shan raised an eyebrow as if not quite convinced, then looked back at Meng Chi.

Meng Chi gave a noncommittal nod.

“Come on, Tingzhi, you drive so steadily—how could you rear-end someone? You didn’t do it on purpose, did you?” She Shan suddenly said, his tone teasing.

Meng Chi found this somewhat baffling, but his attention was quickly caught by Yu Tingzhi’s reply.

“He rear-ended me,” Yu Tingzhi said. “I couldn’t dodge.”

Meng Chi: “…”

That was technically true, but why did it sound so strange?

“Heh heh.” She Shan chuckled lightly, the corners of his mouth curving upward. “So you two really do have some fate between you.”

We do have fate, but the ill-fated kind, Meng Chi thought.

After all, he’d just started to feel a flutter of infatuation, then rear-ended his love rival, only to discover that said rival was a formidable opponent.

“Since you two already know each other, that makes things even easier. Let’s get ready and start.” She Shan stepped back with his camera and raised his chin toward Meng Chi. “You can take your clothes off.”

===Chapter 10===

Meng Chi: “…”

If the person who was going to paint on his body had been anyone else—male or female—Meng Chi might have been able to maintain an ordinary composure and remain unmoved. But now that person had suddenly become Yu Tingzhi.

Being naked in front of his love rival actually made Meng Chi feel genuinely awkward.

“We’re starting already?” Yang Zile, who had been wandering around, came running over. “Right here? Don’t you have a changing room?”

“What would you need a changing room for? We’re all men here,” She Shan said offhandedly. After saying that, as if something occurred to him, he suddenly glanced at Yu Tingzhi. “What do you think?”

His question drew everyone’s attention to Yu Tingzhi.

That strange feeling in Meng Chi’s heart resurfaced, but then he remembered that as a close friend, She Shan would certainly know about Yu Tingzhi’s sexual orientation.

Even so, the question seemed superfluous.

After all, as long as Yu Tingzhi needed to paint him, there was no avoiding being naked in front of him.

Meng Chi didn’t really care where he undressed—anywhere would require the same. He also didn’t think Yu Tingzhi would be bothered by it, since anyone who studied painting had surely drawn plenty of nude figures.

Just as in a doctor’s eyes, the reproductive organ is merely an organ; in a painter’s eyes, a nude body is nothing more than the flow of lines and shifts of light and shadow.

At this moment, to Yu Tingzhi, he was simply a canvas.

Fortunately, he paid attention to his physique, so as a canvas, he was a presentable one—at least he wouldn’t lose face in front of his rival.

“Where do you need to paint?” Having sorted out his thoughts, Meng Chi regained his composure and began to unbutton his clothes.

“Not decided yet,” Yu Tingzhi said, his gaze resting on him. “I’ll need to see first before I know.”

Meng Chi nodded and without hesitation stripped off his clothes. He’d known he would have to undress, so when he left home, he’d worn only a down jacket and a black shirt on top, and just underwear and jeans on the bottom.

She Shan didn’t watch him undress; instead, he went to prepare other photography props and asked Yang Zile to turn up the air conditioning so their star model wouldn’t catch a chill.

So only Yu Tingzhi and Meng Chi remained.

Yu Tingzhi stood to the side, his casual gaze resting on Meng Chi as he watched the clothes covering his body gradually open and fall away, revealing his light wheat-colored skin.

Whether in terms of shoulder-to-waist ratio or head-to-body ratio, Meng Chi could be considered perfectly proportioned. Combined with his deliberate exercise regimen, his upper-body muscles, though not bulky, were lean and well-defined, without any hint of frailty. He even exuded a youthful, boyish quality at odds with his age—yet his deeper skin tone and sharp bone structure added a mature masculine appeal.

As he bent down to remove his trousers, Yu Tingzhi noticed an old scar on the right side of his lower back, about a hand’s length long and half a finger wide, running from his protruding spine to his right hip bone—adding an extra touch of wildness.

A thought suddenly crossed Yu Tingzhi’s mind: if he grabbed his waist for rear entry, his thumb would perfectly trace that scar.

In just those few distracted seconds, Meng Chi was down to nothing but a pair of white briefs and white cotton socks on his feet.

Meng Chi turned his back to him, folding his clothes and placing them on a nearby chair. Yu Tingzhi’s gaze inevitably fell on the rounded gluteal muscles wrapped in white fabric.

Firm, full, with two sexy dimples above his lower back—Yu Tingzhi’s Adam’s apple moved slightly, and his gaze grew heavier.

“Have you looked enough?” Meng Chi turned around to face Yu Tingzhi. Yu Tingzhi, whose focus hadn’t shifted, found his line of sight landing directly on the bulge in the middle of the white fabric.

Meng Chi’s heart jumped at the sight, but he kept his composure and didn’t react defensively.

Yu Tingzhi’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly at the corners, then he naturally lifted his gaze to meet Meng Chi’s eyes.

Whether it was Meng Chi’s imagination or not, he felt that Yu Tingzhi’s gaze suddenly carried more presence, and the psychological readiness he’d built up seemed to waver slightly.

“Go brew some tea,” Yu Tingzhi said suddenly.

“Huh?” Meng Chi blinked. He had the distinct feeling Yu Tingzhi was messing with him.

“Didn’t She Shan tell you? Your theme is related to tea.” Yu Tingzhi fixed his gaze on Meng Chi’s face, trying his best to ignore the expanse of honey-colored skin.

“That’s right,” She Shan said, now holding a gray-blue thin blanket as he walked over. “Put these on instead of the pants.”

Meng Chi paused, glanced at the blanket, then took it and wrapped it around his waist like a bath towel.

She Shan didn’t comment and let him be, then looked at Yu Tingzhi. “Figure out how you want to paint it?”

Yu Tingzhi shook his head, twirling his paintbrush between his fingers as he studied Meng Chi with a contemplative expression.

She Shan: “Then let’s find the vibe first.”

With that, She Shan directed Meng Chi to the tea table Yang Zile had just set up. “Do whatever feels natural. That cloth is yours to use—drape it, wrap it, however you like. Let me see the feel.”

Meng Chi nodded. He couldn’t be bothered to untie his “apron,” so he sat down directly and began to brew tea.

Whether he was dressed or not, brewing tea made no difference to Meng Chi. Once he settled his mind and sat at the tea table, everything around him seemed to fade away—all that remained before his eyes was this pot of tea.

She Shan had initially kept his camera rolling, but after taking a couple of shots, he stopped and stood beside Yu Tingzhi, watching Meng Chi brew tea in silence.

When Meng Chi brewed tea, his entire demeanor became subdued and composed—even without clothes, there wasn’t a hint of frivolity. Instead, his unique temperament contrasted with the stillness of the tea, blending into a more captivating realm. Once you fixed your gaze upon him, it was hard to look away.

The atmosphere in the room suddenly grew still and heavy, with only the low hum of the heater and a thin layer of warm, shimmering heat.

By the time the fragrance of tea wafted through the air and Meng Chi paused to look back at them, the paintbrush Yu Tingzhi had been twirling came to an abrupt stop.

She Shan asked, “Got any ideas this time?”

Yu Tingzhi: “No.”

“Still no?” She Shan sounded a bit helpless. “Then what were you thinking, staring at him for so long?”

Yu Tingzhi’s gaze slowly traveled upward from the lower back partially revealed beneath the blue cloth, past the curling wisps of steam, and came to rest on Meng Chi’s restrained, smiling face.

After a moment, he said, “You were right. He truly does inspire a great deal of desire.”

Having said that, Yu Tingzhi suddenly turned and walked away.

“Where are you going?” She Shan asked.

Yu Tingzhi replied without looking back: “To cool down.”

She Shan let out an “Oh,” then paused.

Cool down from what?

When he turned around and saw that Yu Tingzhi was heading toward the bathroom, he suddenly understood what Yu Tingzhi needed to cool down from.

Damn.