Meng Yan's Transformation

Chapter 624 The Young Photographer's Expectations

The summer sun, like melting honey, thickly coated the cement ground outside the photo studio, creating tiny waves of heat. The cicadas' chirping wove a noisy net as the sisters Zhan Yingying and Zhan Mengyan walked out of the photo studio side by side. The wind chimes above the door tinkled softly. Zhan Mengyan held a photo in her hand, commenting on Zhan Yingying's picture as she walked.

Zhan Yingying laughed heartily at Zhan Mengyan's antics, her laughter like silver bells leaping in the summer air. That moment of joy seemed to melt away all the anxiety of waiting. The younger sister tiptoed and held the photo up to her eyes, gazing intently at her older sister's young face, her eyes filled with pride and affection. Their figures were stretched long, blending into the dappled light and shadow of the street corner, like an old painting gently stirred by the wind.

Behind them, the glass door of the photo studio made a soft creak as they left. The young photographer stood in the shadows, his fingers unconsciously tracing the edge of the worktable, his gaze following the receding figures. His Adam's apple bobbed slightly, as if he wanted to call them back; it rolled as if swallowing a thousand unspoken words. Only the echo of his own heartbeat reverberated in the empty shop—the older sister's composure and the younger sister's innocence in the lens seemed to be stitched into his vision with fine needles, making him suddenly understand that some farewells need no words, just as migratory birds are destined to fly far away, and the reluctance at this moment is merely a silent gift bestowed by time.

The young photographer wanted to chase after them, but his foot froze halfway down the street—what excuse? Ask for the address? The two sisters had already turned towards the creaking bicycle on the street corner; an invitation to dinner? Zhan Mengyan's laughter was as clear as a wind chime. Zhan Yingying only glanced back briefly, her steps unwavering. He stood frozen in place, the hot wind filling his sleeves, a silent cry escaping his lips—when the younger sister picked up the photos, the older sister had probably already gone to work far away. He wondered when the older sister's figure would reappear in this small space of light and shadow. He watched the sisters' figures gradually blur until they disappeared into the hustle and bustle of the street, leaving only the echoing sound of the doorbell lingering in the air, like an unspoken "waiting for you."

"Yingying, did you notice? That young photographer seems to have chased us out the door, like he's going to call out to us. Did we leave something behind at the photo studio?"

As Zhan Mengyan spoke, she jumped off the back of Zhan Yingying's bicycle, nearly falling over—her movements were as swift as a startled bird. She didn't even have time to think; her body sprang up before her consciousness could register it. The moment one foot touched the ground, she lost her balance and stumbled forward. Zhan Yingying was terrified. She slammed on the brakes, the chain screeching, the wheels carving two shallow marks on the scorching pavement. Zhan Mengyan instinctively grabbed onto the low grass by the roadside, her fingertips tracing the rough stems to barely steady herself. She staggered a few steps before falling, her cheeks instantly flushing red, fine beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

Zhan Yingying stopped the car, turned around and looked at her with a mixture of reproach and worry: "What's wrong? Have you lost your mind?"

"I just wanted to check if we had left anything behind."

As Zhan Mengyan spoke, she patted the dust off her pants.

"Then tell me, even if I stop the car, you can't just suddenly jump out, that's too dangerous."

As Zhan Yingying spoke, she checked the contents of the bag: "You know what, we really did leave our things at the photo studio."

"What is that? Let's go back quickly."

As Zhan Mengyan spoke, she climbed back onto the back seat, hugged her sister tightly around the waist, and buried her face in her sister's sweaty nape. "Let's go, sis."

The wheels turned again, rolling over the sun-dappled road surface.