A solitary pine rising from the ground on a flat snow plain
--
Pei Tingsong was a little surprised.
When he had opened his mouth, he had been aware of the fact that most of the people here would not understand what he was thinking and what he wanted to do. After all, he has been like this since he was a child. In other people's eyes, he was just a stubborn person who shouldn't be trifled with. The unexpected thing here was that Fang Juexia had understood him. Originally, he had thought that at the most, Fang Juexia would manage to guess that he was dissatisfied with this sloppy design, but he hadn't really expected Fang Juexia to completely comprehend his entire thought process.
It was as if their two minds had accidentally connected.
They were contradictory people. They weren't a mutual, bionic melding of images, but strong personalities set opposite one another.
Fang Juexia had his own temperament and style, which shouldn't be homogenized in such a rough manner.
These ideas seemed to flow through both their minds. Pei Tingsong attributed this kind of unexplained tacit understanding to the two years they had spent together. Even though there was near zero communication between them, nothing in this world was purely isolated. There existeds a subtle connection between him and Fang Juexia, one which was complex and hard to detect.
Maybe they had similarities in their logic ba—he tried to come up with a reasonable explanation.
Lin Mo seemed to be very satisfied with Fang Juexia's proposal. Images and inspiration appeared in his mind, which greatly improved his enthusiasm for this job. "Spring and winter, very good." He checked over Fang Juexia's face, scrutinised it very carefully, and finally came to the conclusion, "You really do fit the concept of winter. Andy."
"Hey~ Coming, I also think this version is better. The end of winter and the arrival of spring are also in line with the season right now, and these two weren't the same type in the first place. I will have to think hard about the makeup style this time." Andy had been in the circle for ten years, and he was a real talent. As soon as he looked at Lin Mo's expression, he knew that this shoot was going to become a big ticket item. The idea he had at the start, of just paddling along and taking it easy, had already disappeared; after all, he was cooperating with a big photographer and two upstarts in the circle this time.
The most taboo thing in the entertainment industry was to look down on someone. No one could predict who could turn popular overnight. What's more, the explosive popularity these two had garnered was as obvious as the nose on his face.
They spent more than two hours discussing everything over again. Such a process was not common in the entertainment industry that tended to pursue high efficiency, where everyone hoped to directly start the work and then quickly finish the job. But it was worth it. After all, starting from a perfunctory assembly line design to actually having everyone be seriously involved in creating this design, this kind of experience was rare and interesting enough.
The editor, who was noting down the interesting tidbits for the interview piece, was giggling. He usually had nothing to write and had to scramble and just piece something together. Now, this dramatic turn of events was practically just delivering great material straight into his lap.
Pei Tingsong's make-up was clean and simple. Andy also specially highlighted the two moles below his eye and on his lower eyelid. "Your moles are just in the right place. The popular saying for these kinds is that they're both pure and lustful."
When Fang Juexia, who was just coming out of the dressing room, heard that, he felt that it was odd. At the moment, he couldn't sense that feel coming off of Pei Tingsong at all. However, the semantic meanings of pure and lustful were completely opposite, and this sense of contradiction was totally in line with his personality.
"The scab at the corner of your eye…" Andy looked at his raised scab and worried a bit. "Can't cover it with concealer, just photoshop it out later ba."
"Do whatever is convenient ba." Pei Tingsong had begun to feel sleepy again and was too lazy to care about these details.
Fang Juexia stared at the huge mirror in the dressing room, through which Pei Tingsong could be seen sitting, and the injury at the corner of his eye could be seen clearly as well. He had changed into a milk brown T-shirt, and his rebellious temperament had softened a lot.
"Juexia, coffee." Cheng Qiang, who had gone out and came back during this time, placed a cup down in front of Pei Tingsong, and then led Fang Juexia, who had yet to start modeling clothes, to sit down in a corner of the dressing room. "Sleepy ba?"
"Not bad." Fang Juexia discovered that the wooden table in this corner was empty, but on the floor was a small potted plant—a tree made of pink flowers.
He carefully looked at the flowering tree while carrying the cup of coffee in his hand. Right then, Coco, the modeling assistant, came to clip up his hair, and he asked softly, "Hello, what kind of flower is this?"
"This ah, this is a winter-flowering cherry tree, which was given to Mr. Andy two days ago. There are so many people here today that we were afraid of it falling over, so we placed it on the ground."
Winter-flowering cherry tree.
After getting the last clip affixed to his hair, Fang Juexia squatted at the side of the small flowering tree. The soil of the flowerpot was covered with a layer of fallen petals, all of which looked very soft and light pink.
The ensemble show's camera was still focused on Pei Tingsong. Pei Tingsong grew bored as his makeup was being applied, and he started to chat with the cameraman, "How about we play rock-paper-scissors, and whoever loses has to tell a story?"
The cameraman shook his camera back and forth in a gesture of refusal.
"You're afraid of losing. I know." Pei Tingsong put on a cold expression and stated his judgement, while his makeup was almost close to being done. As soon as he looked into the mirror, he saw Fang Juexia coming towards him. He had changed a loose black shirt, which only served to make the cold paleness of his skin more obvious.
He seemed to be looking for a make-up assistant in order to borrow something. Finally, he took a very small bottle and squeezed a bit of something onto his hand.
"Almost done, it's just this scab that's troublesome." As Andy was talking, Fang Juexia suddenly said, "I want to try something."
"Try what?" As soon as Pei Tingsong asked, Fang Juexia had already bent over towards him on his own initiative.
The distance between the two people suddenly reduced to less than five centimeters, and the air seemed to have been suppressed solid. As Pei Tingsong breathed in, the rippling smell of ice cream when an ice cream container was just opened wafted over once again. His eyes were full of the red birthmark at the corner of Fang Juexia's eye, like just a touch of red on a field of white snow.
The palpitations of his heart were short-lived, for Fang Juexia's action was also short-lived, so short that his consciousness had no time to process this feeling before his fingertips lifted off of Pei Tingsong's skin.
After a few seconds of careful study, Fang Juexia straightened up and looked at him again.
"How about this?" After finishing his art, he lifted his head up to look at Andy.
Andy held Pei Tingsong's jaw and looked into the mirror. It was only then that Pei Tingsong discovered that the scab at the corner of his eye was now covered by a pink petal.
Fang Juexia's voice didn't carry too much emotion, just stating his own point of view. "Perfectly it's a spring concept, so flowers shouldn't conflict with it."
Andy looked left and right and was very surprised. He repeated the word "perfect" a few times, then affixed the petal with detachable glue and said, "And with this stuck on, it echoes the birthmark on Juexia's face."
Fang Juexia hadn't thought of this, so he was left stunned for a moment. When he bowed his head, his eyes accidentally met Pei Tingsong's.
Pei Tingsong lifted his eyes, his fingers touching the petal that covered his scar, and he said, "You did this on purpose ba."
"No," Fang Juexia refuted quickly. This was quite different to his usual reaction speed.
Pei Tingsong's eyes swept lazily across his bare face and finally stopped at his scarlet neck. He didn't speak and instead looked at himself in the mirror. With the petal at the corner of his eye, he really did have something in common with Fang Juexia.
"Tingsong's makeup is more simple, giving the kind of feeling that nothing has been done, but in actuality, a lot of care has gone into the details." Andy started to make up Fang Juexia. "Juexia's make-up will be a bit more special."
Pei Tingsong lifted his coffee cup and sat in the chair next to him. He had a rare chance to have an honest reason to freely stare at Fang Juexia.
Andy didn't apply any foundation on Fang Juexia. "Your skin is too good, if we put any on, all the natural texture of your face will be rubbed out."
Fang Juexia's expressionless face was reflected in the mirror.
Taking advantage of the time they took to style his hair, Pei Tingsong unscrupulously observed Fang Juexia through the mirror. He realized that, in fact, Fang Juexia's facial features were heavily idol-like—beautiful, exquisite, and looked unburdened by life. However, the ridge of his brow and the bridge of his nose were very special; they were perpendicular to each other. On that narrow face, was a thin and straight T-shaped shape, making the face seem like something between a man's rugged cragginess and a woman's softness and smoothness, just reflecting the image of a solitary pine rising from the ground on a flat snow plain.
This kind of lonely and upright bone intensified the stubborn feeling of being cold and alone he gave off.
Pei Tingsong thought that if the ridge of his brow and the bridge of his nose were matched with a pair of sweet and bright big eyes, perhaps the cold feeling he gave off could still be neutralized. Yet, he just had to be born with a pair of beautiful cold eyes, with narrow and thin double eyelids, lightly colored irises, and corners that were neither ordinary nor bad looking. They all said that eyes could send speechless messages, but Fang Juexia's eyes seemed to be separated from the world by a layer of transparent ice. His eyes couldn't pass on any feelings, just freezing logic and alienation. And all of this was set on pale skin, like a tough yet fragile white flower.
That withered branch waiting to be broken, tenaciously using the last of its ability to let a single flower blossom—a sad and gorgeous white flower.
Fang Juexia's eye makeup was not complicated, for Andy did not even put any black mascara on him. Instead, he pulled out a white mascara bottle and brushed it on his long eyelashes. The color was brushed onto his eyelashes bit by bit, to make it seem as if snowflakes had fallen on his eyelashes, and a wintery feeling immediately appeared.
Fang Juexia raised his eyes at that moment, and Pei Tingsong had to admit that he was really moved by this pure white beauty. Originally, there had been no escape from Fang Juexia's inherent coldness, but now, the coldness became even more intense.
Even the modeling assistant's words carried some surprise as he praised, "So immortal ah, immortal and cold."
Andy swept a bit of blush on Fang Juexia's lower eyelid, extending it all the way to his red birthmark, and then applied a nearly invisible white eyeliner along his lower eyelid, before using silver eyeshadow to draw tear shaped marks under the corner of his eye, allowing them to flow all the way down, just like a trail of frozen tears.
It gave off the feeling that he was crying, Pei Tingsong thought to himself.
But Fang Juexia probably couldn't cry. He couldn't imagine what such an emotionless person would look like if he cried.
In the whole of the two years since they debuted to now, he could hardly recall any emotional moments from Fang Juexia. Although their relationship could only be regarded as that between professional bandmates, they hadn't spent any less time with each other than with the others.
While searching through his memory, he actually recalled something.
A year ago, when the group had been doing a commercial performance, he had gone out to take a breather before going in for makeup, and had accidentally run into Fang Juexia in the corridor. He had been standing at the side of the vending machine and had been talking on the phone. It seemed like he really hadn't wanted to be seen, so he had hidden himself behind the machine. Pei Tingsong vaguely heard him call out to his mother and between words, he had mentioned things about his grandfather going to see the doctor.
Originally, he had not been interested in listening and had just been struggling over whether he still wanted to buy a drink. However, the other party just happened to turn around at that moment, and the two people's gazes had awkwardly connected.
At that time, a stunned expression had appeared on Fang Juexia's face, and the corners of his eyes were red, with the ice in his eyes having melted as his eyes shone with liquid. He had held his cellphone, bowed his head, and had left in a hurry, just like a cold wind passing by.
It was also that time that Pei Tingsong, who pursued logic and self-consistency in everything, figured out the reason behind the rumors about Fang Juexia and that entire hidden rules situation surrounding him. His family didn't have it easy, and he had no background, so he was only left with the option of this shortcut. At first, he had been convinced that this reasoning was sound, but currently, he had become more and more suspicious about it, and even wanted to directly overturn it.
He just wanted to know why Fang Juexia had never explained the situation.
There were too many contradictions that existed in this person. Plainly he was entangled in rumors, and yet, from head to foot, he exuded a detached indifference. Clearly, he was born in summer and called summer, but he was like the never-melting snow.
For no reason, a poem that Pei Tingsong liked very much suddenly appeared in his mind. His eyes fell upon the pen and paper that the modeling assistant was using to take notes.
"It's done."
Only after he heard Fang Juexia's voice did he get up from his chair. Fang Juexia saw him staring at himself, and his eyes widened slightly, with his white eyelashes fluttering. This was the expression he would show whenever he doubted himself.
"The way I look right now.. .does it look very strange?"
The relationship between them seemed to have already eased up, to the extent that Fang Juexia could be relaxed enough to ask him for his opinions. This was truly some gratifying progress. Pei Tingsong remained speechless though, and only the corners of his mouth quirked up. He put a folded piece of paper into Fang Juexia's shirt pocket, and then left under the assistant's urging.
Fang Juexia stayed in place and opened that piece of paper. The handwriting in it was loose and carefree, with only a few lines written on it—It was a poem.
[Rest assured, you may
entertain me with snow:
whenever I walked shoulder to shoulder
with the mulberry tree through the summer,
its youngest leaf
cried out.