Finally, she sighed. "I’m really not trying to trick you. Modeling pays—most students would jump at the chance. You’re acting like I’m some monster."

No scammer would admit to being one, but her enthusiasm was alarming. Miao Jiayan eventually stopped answering her calls altogether.

There were several internet cafés near the school, but Miao Jiayan had never been inside one.

He certainly wouldn’t go just to see the photos. To students back then, internet cafés were like pool halls and arcades—places where troublemakers gathered.

Eventually, Miao Jiayan forgot about the whole thing.

"Hey!"

Miao Jiayan had just finished lunch and was walking back to the classroom when someone called out behind him. He turned to see Jiang Xun dribbling a basketball.

"Where you headed?" Jiang Xun asked.

"Back to class," Miao Jiayan answered.

"Come watch me play," Jiang Xun said with a cocky grin. "See me nail some three-pointers."

Miao Jiayan shook his head. "No thanks."

"Suit yourself." Jiang Xun had only asked casually and headed off to the court alone.

Because of Chen Chao, Miao Jiayan and Jiang Xun had grown closer. They were both close to Chen Chao, which made them "one of us."

They saw each other often—both were in the same grade, on the same floor, while Ding Wentao was a senior and rarely around. Sometimes they ate lunch together in the cafeteria and talked about Chen Chao.

It wasn’t until later that Miao Jiayan thought of using Jiang Xun’s phone to see the photos.

That semester, Jiang Xun had gotten a new iPhone. During lunch, he pulled up some images and asked Miao Jiayan, "Which of these looks cooler?"

The two hoodies looked identical to Miao Jiayan. "I can’t tell."

"Figured you wouldn’t, little country girl," Jiang Xun teased.

He always called Miao Jiayan that, and Miao Jiayan was used to it by now—it didn’t bother him. Watching Jiang Xun scroll through photos, he suddenly remembered.

"Can your phone search for stores?" Miao Jiayan asked.

"Yeah, why? Buying something?"

"Not buying—just looking." Miao Jiayan gave him the store name and explained about the photos.

"Damn, impressive," Jiang Xun said as he searched. "Let’s see what these photos are."

This was how Miao Jiayan first saw images of himself—and it felt strange.

The person in the photos didn’t match his own mental image. The boy in the cotton field, staring straight at the camera with a handful of freshly picked cotton, his hair slightly damp with sweat at the temples, the rest loosely tied back—it all felt unfamiliar.

This was the largest photo, prominently displayed on the store’s page. Miao Jiayan stared at his own image for a while before murmuring, "That doesn’t look like me."

"Nah, it’s pretty accurate," Jiang Xun said. "They did a good job."

"Can everyone see this?" Miao Jiayan asked. "Won’t they think it’s weird?"

Jiang Xun laughed. "Why would they? People only find things weird when they’re rare. Once they’re used to it, no one cares."

He clicked into a few product listings featuring cotton and found more photos.

Miao Jiayan looked at them a little longer before handing the phone back.

He never mentioned this to Chen Chao because they hadn’t been in touch. The last call had been when Chen Chao asked about his exam results—nothing since.

One evening, after finishing homework early, Miao Jiayan sat on his bed reading a novel, planning to sleep soon.

His phone buzzed on the desk. Miao Jiayan leaned over to check—it was a text from Chen Chao.

He set the book aside and picked up the phone.

—What’s this about photos?

It had been a while since Miao Jiayan received a message from him, and he felt a small flicker of happiness.

Sitting up straight, he typed a reply: Some people wanted to take photos of me. They paid me two thousand.

Chen Chao: What kind of photos?

Miao Jiayan: Just me picking cotton. Can you go online, Brother Chao?

Chen Chao: Yeah.

Miao Jiayan sent the store name.

A moment later, Chen Chao called directly. Miao Jiayan checked the time—Chen Chao’s evening self-study session must have just ended.

"Who asked for the photos? What did they say?" Chen Chao got straight to the point.

Miao Jiayan loved the sound of Chen Chao’s voice when he was walking. "The people who bought the cotton. They sell flowers."

Chen Chao pressed, "What are the photos for?"

Miao Jiayan said, "They said they’d just post them there, nothing else."

"'They said'?" Chen Chao’s tone sharpened—Miao Jiayan could picture him frowning. "Did you sign a contract? Anything in writing?"

This was beyond Miao Jiayan’s understanding. He didn’t know how to answer.

Hearing Chen Chao’s displeasure, Miao Jiayan didn’t dare continue. He asked cautiously, "What’s wrong... Brother Chao?"

He’d always been afraid of Chen Chao’s anger—he never wanted to upset him.

Chen Chao didn’t scold him too harshly. "They probably won’t do anything shady, but you’ve got to be smarter. Can’t just agree to everything."

Miao Jiayan felt deflated. After so long without contact, finally getting a call from Chen Chao only to be lectured...

His posture slumped, shoulders drooping as he murmured, "...Got it."