Chapter 40: The Courage to Change Fate

A butterfly gracefully alighted upon the wild grasses and tiny flowers. Shen Jixing sat at the stone table beside the fountain, his pant leg tugged by something biting and pulling: “Is this your little dog?”

The girl glanced down, immediately embarrassed.

“Dou Dou, sit.”

Her usual command had utterly lost its effectiveness. The little yellow dog clung to Shen Jixing’s pant leg, licking and rubbing against it, while a faint blush crept onto the girl’s face.

“Film Emperor Shen, I’m sorry. Dou Dou is quite fond of… beautiful things.”

She pretended to bend down to pick up her dog.

Shen Jixing’s gaze swept over the thick bandages around her wrist. “Never mind, it’s all right.”

The girl withdrew her hand, silently hiding it away.

Shen Jixing didn’t ask any further, simply poured a cup of floral tea with composed indifference. “Beautiful things?”

“I—I didn’t mean you aren’t human…”

“……”

The girl hurriedly explained, “Dou Dou likes beautiful things: flowers, butterflies, fountains, crystal balls, the stars under nightfall, and clear eyes…”

“Does he like Fang Siqian?” Shen Jixing asked quietly.

Ruan Jia: “…………”

She recalled how Dou Dou barked madly whenever he saw Fang Siqian, leaving ‘souvenirs’ on his shoes.

The girl gently shook her head. Fang Siqian had kicked Dou Dou when she wasn’t around; Dou Dou never liked him.

But Ruan Jia said nothing, not even after their breakup.

She would never disparage Fang Siqian, not even a little.

“Pets take after their owners.” Shen Jixing glanced at the short-legged yellow dog running over with a flower in its mouth. “Perhaps you taught it what beauty truly is.”

Ruan Jia was startled, her eyes rimmed with a hint of red.

“Film Emperor Shen, you sought me out.” She asked softly, taking the initiative. “Is there something you need?”

Shen Jixing responded with a faint “Mm,” pulling a photograph from his pocket and slowly sliding it across the gray stone tabletop—

“Did you take this photo?”

Ruan Jia lowered her gaze, tracing her transparent nails, hesitant to look up.

She had a hunch which photo it might be.

The long-standing trending photo of a passionate kiss, where her profile was blurred out—but it wouldn’t be difficult for Shen Jixing to obtain the unblurred version.

Or perhaps, the legendary rain-soaked night photo that vaulted Fang Siqian to stardom, changing his fate—both were her work.

She was also the protagonist in both.

“No, I didn’t…” Yet she would still protect Fang Siqian.

When her gaze finally landed on the photograph, she froze.

It wasn’t either of those.

It was an utterly ordinary picture.

A silk tree blossomed in profusion on a barren plain, its branches heavy with clusters of pink flowers, vigorously swept by the spring wind, shaking loose a shower of petals.

Under that petal rain stood a slender figure.

Ruan Jia hadn’t noticed before, but the background was strangely familiar.

“Is that you…?” she asked, astonished, looking at Shen Jixing.

“Mm.” Shen Jixing nodded lightly, mist veiling his brows and eyes, his voice cool and gentle. “I always wanted to find the photographer who took this picture, but she never appeared in any public setting.”

Ruan Jia slowly lowered her gaze. How could a photographer not wish to be seen?

It was Fang Siqian who didn’t want her to be seen.

“Yesterday, I saw this photo in some files,” Shen Jixing said.

“What files?” Ruan Jia asked blankly.

She had once posted these photos on her social media, but deleted them soon after.

Shen Jixing paused for two seconds. “Had someone investigate. Fang Siqian’s scandals.”

“…Oh.”

It was a bit awkward.

“Would you like to hear the story of this tree?” Shen Jixing pushed the floral tea toward her.

For reasons unknown, despite never having met Shen Jixing before, she found this cool, aloof man surprisingly gentle and warm toward her.

She guessed it was because of the photo.

“I know a little,” Ruan Jia said. “It’s the oldest silk tree, but it had been dried up for years. That day it suddenly blossomed, drawing crowds from everywhere to see it. Photographers from all over the country came to capture the spectacle… I was one of them.”

As she spoke, her gaze grew distant.

It had been a long time since she called herself a photographer.

Ever since she met Fang Siqian.

“Mm.” Shen Jixing said, “This wasteland used to be an artificial ski resort. For reasons unknown, the tree was left untouched, but the harsh winters proved too much. Even after the ski resort was demolished, it never bloomed again.”

Ruan Jia’s eyes reddened slightly. “It’s so pitiful.”

The tree was good; the ski resort was bad.

No, the people who built the ski resort were bad.

Shen Jixing seemed to chuckle softly. “For a while, I longed to see the silk blossom, but there were no others in Blue Eucalyptus City—only this one, now a dead tree.”

Occasionally, Shen Jixing would go and water it.

He recalled someone once saying that the silk tree’s meaning was—

Harmony in marriage, everlasting love, fidelity until death.

The silk tree outside the music room was planted by him and his mother, witnessing all his joys and sorrows.

“When I gave up, it bloomed.”

Only that one fleeting spectacle.

Afterwards, it became a dead tree forever.

Even the botanists couldn’t explain the sudden blooming.

“Perhaps plants can sense things,” Ruan Jia said softly. “Back home, we had a pomegranate tree that bore only one fruit a year, large and sweet. But as a child, I was greedy and wanted two.”

“So I kept begging it—could it bear two fruits? That year, it really did. But on the day the fruit ripened, the tree died.”

“Grandma said it exhausted all its nutrients, giving me those two fruits at the very end.”

Her thoughts were sensitive and delicate, lingering even for a single plant.

She murmured, “Maybe that spectacle was meant just for you, Film Emperor Shen.”

Shen Jixing gazed at her in silence. “Thank you.”

“It truly gave me the courage to change my fate.”

Ruan Jia’s gaze wavered… Change fate?

Shen Jixing didn’t elaborate. “It’s a pity the bloom was so brief. I’m grateful you captured it for me. Perhaps that is the essence of photography—even a moment can last forever.”

It was like a pebble dropped into the depths of her heart.

Ripples spread.

A hint of tears seemed to glisten in her eyes.

The meaning of photography: even a moment can last forever.

As dusk settled, Shen Jixing lingered no longer. Ruan Jia suddenly looked up at him. “You came only to ask about this photo?”

Not because of… Fang Siqian?

Shen Jixing stood on the lawn beneath the glowing sunset, with crystalline fountain droplets behind him. He smiled faintly, lips curved.

“Perhaps he’s not worth a special trip.”

Ruan Jia’s eyes reflected the shimmering water, as if she wanted to say something, but finally closed her mouth in hesitation.

Until long, slender fingers placed a file in front of her.

“Photographer Ruan.”

“I believe everyone deserves the courage to change their fate.”

That was his true purpose in coming.

The young genius photographer who had suddenly vanished should not be lost in the river of night.

She had given up three lives for one person.

“If you change your mind, you can contact me anytime.”

As Shen Jixing departed, he paused briefly, turning his gaze and speaking softly, “I hope next time, it’s you who appears before me, not me searching for you in the crowd.”

That elegant, noble figure disappeared into twilight.

Like a dream she woke from one afternoon.

Ruan Jia gently opened the document bag. Photos spilled out; she picked them up, peering at them in confusion, eyes widening, fingers trembling.

They were—

Pictures of Fang Siqian entangled with other women.