The light on the deck had shifted slightly west of overhead. The sea had settled into a deep cobalt blue, and a thin mist floated at the boundary where water met sky in the distance.
The sea breeze pressed from behind, pushing my ash-blonde high ponytail forward. I raised a hand to hold down my skirt, my fingertips brushing the pale gold thread at the top edge of my over-the-knee stockings. My black short boots were steady on the deck. Dianzi stood beside me, her pinkish-purple bun loosened by the wind, the silver thread on her over-the-knee stockings catching the light.
She held her phone up. The floating interface projected out, the livestream automatically framing me and the sea.
"The weather is quite nice today," this girl here said, tilting my head slightly, the corner of my mouth lifting.
[chat] Wifey is so beautiful
[chat] The JK uniform with the sea view is absolutely stunning
[chat] Daughter's little cloud is so cute
[chat] The sea breeze feels so good
Dianzi leaned toward the edge of the floating interface, tilting her head. "This girl here is wearing light gray today, Sister is wearing white. Doesn't it look like a couple's outfit?"
"It does. But your tie color is too loud."
"Wine-red is so pretty."
She spun half a circle toward the camera, her skirt flaring up. The hem of the white pleated skirt swept just above her knees, the small cloud at her back swaying gently with the movement.
I noticed a figure at the other end of the deck. A young man in a dark gray jacket, a black backpack, a camera slung across his chest. He was crouched there, his lens aimed at the sea, the shutter clicking occasionally. Not a continuous burst, just single shots. After each press, he would pause for several seconds, then check the screen.
He stood up and walked a few steps toward us. His stride was hesitant, as if confirming something. He stopped about three or four paces away.
"Need me to take some photos for you? I could use the practice."
"You're a photographer?" I tilted my head to look at him.
He nodded.
"What do you shoot?"
"Everything," he said, his voice very low. "The sea, the ship, people."
"Ever shot portraits?"
"I have. My graduation project was portraits."
"Then take a few photos for this girl here and her sister. For free."
He paused, his fingers halting on the camera body.
"Okay."
He walked to the railing and raised his camera. Dianzi and I stood side by side, the sea at our backs. The sea breeze lifted our hair, ash-blonde and pinkish-purple intertwining.
The shutter clicked once. Not a continuous burst, but a single shot. After pressing it, he paused for two seconds before lowering the camera, checking the screen.
"Do they look nice?" Dianzi rested her chin on my shoulder.
He turned the camera around. The composition on the screen was beautiful—the light falling on our faces, the background sea blurred into a gray-blue. But in the background of the photo, on the far edge of the deck, stood a human silhouette, blurry, facing the sea, standing outside the railing. The figure wasn't wearing a life vest.
"This one is beautiful."
He nodded and pressed the shutter several more times.
"Can you dance a bit? This girl here wants to capture some motion."
"Which dance?"
"Lamb Hoo-Hoo."
Dianzi took the squirrel out of her bag and placed it on the railing, facing the sea. Music streamed from her phone. I raised my hands; she raised hers. We pointed our toes, our bodies rising and falling with the rhythm. As we spun, our skirts flared, the orange and light blue over-the-knee stockings flashing alternately in the sunlight.
He crouched down, camera raised to his eye, the shutter clicking continuously. Every few shots, he paused to check the screen before continuing.
After one song, we stopped, slightly out of breath. He put down his camera and looked through the photos. His fingers swiped across the screen very slowly, examining each one for a long time.
"How did they turn out?" I walked over.
He handed me the camera. On the screen was a dynamic capture—the moment I turned, my skirt flying up, my ash-blonde hair scattering in the air, my eyes looking directly at the lens.
"Beautiful."
He took the camera back and looked down to adjust the settings.
"My name is Zhao Dayong. Graduated from a prestigious overseas art school with a photography degree. Finished my studies, but the diploma turned into a worthless piece of paper. My family's finances were nearly drained by the tuition."
His tone was flat. His fingers turned a dial on the camera, stopped, then turned it again.
"My ferry fare was covered by a scholarship I'd earned. And it became a joke."
——He bankrupted his family for a diploma that couldn't buy him a cup of coffee, and now he's telling strangers his life story for free.
I didn't answer.
The sea breeze blew from the other end of the deck, ruffling a lock of his hair. He didn't fix it, just stared at the photo of the deck on the camera screen, his thumb hovering above the delete button but not pressing it.
He looked up, the corner of his mouth twisting into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Thank you for listening." He turned and walked toward the other end of the deck, his pace very slow, the camera hanging at his chest, the lens cap swaying gently in the wind.
He stood there for a long time. The sea breeze messed up his hair, but he didn't fix it. Finally, he nodded at us and turned to leave. His pace was slow, his backpack strap swinging at his side.
"That's all for today from this girl here." The floating interface dimmed.
Dianzi pulled out her phone, opened her homepage, and uploaded a few of the photos we'd just taken.
A few minutes later, new comments appeared.
💬 This angle is absolutely stunning
💬 That silhouette in the background has been standing there forever—no life vest?
💬 Daughter's bangs got messed up by the sea breeze today, so cute
💬 Did you catch the one where Sister is looking at me from the side?
Dianzi handed me the phone. I scanned the four comments and turned off the screen.
"Sister, that blurry silhouette—he captured it."
"He was standing in the background for a long time. Next time Zhao Dayong comes to take photos, we can let him take more shots of that silhouette."
"Who do you think that figure is?"
I didn't answer. Outside the railing at the deck's edge, the sea was shifting from cobalt blue to a deep gray. The clouds pressed down, and the light dimmed.
The silhouette in the photo stood at the deck's edge, facing the sea, standing outside the railing. Zoomed to the limit, the pixels had already blurred—dark clothing, one hand resting on the railing.
I put the phone away. Beyond the railing were the sea and mist.
Dianzi leaned against my shoulder, the squirrel's tail brushing the back of my hand.
The fire door swung open, and the corridor lights were dim and yellow. On the deck behind us, Zhao Dayong was still standing there, his camera aimed at the sea. The shutter clicked again, a single shot.