Chapter 54: Secret Photography (Part 1)

“Manager Wen, weren’t you buying stamps? Go ahead, I’m done. Goodbye.”

Wen Yanyan had to go home; she still had a mountain of dishes to wash and things to tidy up.

“Miss, we just got a new shipment of books, foreign classics. Would you like to take a look and see if there’s anything you like?”

Wen Sihan’s manner was gentle, his smile warm.

“Oh? You got new books? But I haven’t finished the one I got last time.”

Wen Yanyan had loved reading in her past life, and the mention of new books stirred her interest.

“Books can be kept and read slowly; they don’t go out of style. If you like any, I can give you a 40% discount.”

Wen Sihan was aggressively promoting his books.

Huh?

A 40% discount? Last time it was 20%; this would be a significant saving.

Wen Yanyan was tempted.

“Okay, I’ll go take a look. Aren’t you buying stamps anymore?”

“I just asked the staff, and they said the stamps I wanted are sold out. I’ll have to come back another time.”

Wen Sihan explained.

“Oh, let’s go together then.”

Wen Yanyan left the post office, and he followed closely behind.

“Miss, we’ve met twice now, and I still don’t know your name. Would you mind telling me?”

“What’s there to mind? My name is Wen Yanyan, Yanyan as in swallow.”

“Wen Yanyan, a beautiful name. ‘Swallows before the Wang and Xie families’ mansions, now fly into ordinary people’s homes.’”

Wen Sihan seemed to like the name, even quoting a classical poem.

Huh?

Wen Yanyan couldn’t help but look up, noticing for the first time that he was quite tall.

Over six feet, a delicate face, fair skin, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, with warm, deep eyes.

He had a high nose bridge, thin lips, and an elegant demeanor, somewhat resembling a scholar.

He seemed well-read, casually quoting appropriate poetry.

“Manager Wen, are you from a scholarly family?”

Wen Yanyan felt this man was extraordinary; ordinary people weren’t as relaxed and carefree.

Stamp collecting was uncommon in the 1970s, yet he had this hobby and refined taste.

And his gold-rimmed glasses—ordinary people couldn’t afford them.

“How can you tell?”

Wen Sihan had a nonchalant air, as if worldly affairs didn’t bother him.

“I just feel it. You speak differently from others.”

Wen Yanyan didn’t want to elaborate on his uniqueness.

“It’s probably because I read a lot.”

Wen Siyuan’s explanation also denied her guess.

“We’re almost there. Wen Yanyan, do you remember where the Patriotic Bookstore is?”

He seemed in a good mood, constantly smiling.

“Yes.”

Wen Yanyan nodded; she wasn’t directionally challenged.

“Miss Wen is intelligent; of course, you remember.”

Wen Sihan seemed to enjoy complimenting people. Although she felt a little uncomfortable, she thought it might be an occupational habit.

Saying things customers like to hear was a marketing technique.

“Okay, we’re here.”

They stood at the bookstore’s entrance.

Wen Yanyan asked him,

“Manager Wen, do you manage this bookstore?”

She felt this bookstore was different from state-run bookstores of the 1970s.

There was a large flower bed in front of the bookstore, filled with brightly colored flowers.

The bookstore’s exterior walls were covered with lush climbing vines.

This was a deliberately created atmosphere; few people in the 1970s had this leisure and elegance.

“I do.”

Wen Sihan nodded.

Wen Yanyan asked again, “Then you always give customers discounts; does your management approve?”

“I’m the manager; there’s no management above me.”

His smile was bright in the sunlight; his eyes behind the glasses were shining.

“Isn’t this bookstore state-run?”

Wen Yanyan was puzzled; did the manager have no superiors?

“Miss Wen, don’t worry. If I say I’ll give you a 40% discount, I’ll keep my word.”

Wen Sihan saw through her thoughts.

“Oh, okay.”

Wen Yanyan followed him into the bookstore.

…

However, Wen Yanyan didn’t know that someone had been following her since they left the post office.

That person was taking pictures of her and Wen Sihan together with a camera.

Wen Yanyan browsed the bookstore and bought a book, another foreign classic.

Anna Karenina, by Leo Tolstoy of the Tsarist era.

This time she noticed that there were significantly more foreign classics than last time, suggesting these books were selling well.

“Thank you, Manager Wen. I’ll go now.” Wen Yanyan said goodbye to Wen Sihan with her book.

“You’re welcome. Come again soon. Let me walk you out.”

Wen Sihan escorted her to the door.

“Okay, goodbye.”

As soon as Wen Yanyan turned to leave the bookstore, she heard a faint “click” sound.

Her heart sank; it sounded like a camera shutter.

She raised an eyebrow, looking towards the source of the sound.

Sure enough, behind a street tree, a man in military uniform was secretly taking pictures of her.

Wen Yanyan recognized him: Liu Xiaoguang, Zhang Meimei’s pursuer.

Why was he taking pictures of her?

Could it be…?

Wen Yanyan subconsciously looked back at the bookstore entrance and saw that Wen Sihan had already gone back inside.

Her heart sank; this Liu Xiaoguang was unscrupulous, up to no good.

No, she couldn’t let him get away with it.

She immediately walked towards the tree and extended a hand to Liu Xiaoguang, who was looking down at his camera.

“Give me the camera.”

“This is my camera. Why should I give it to you?”

Liu Xiaoguang held the camera, his eyes dark as he looked at Wen Yanyan.

“I want the film. You’ve violated my right to privacy.”

Wen Yanyan was calm and composed.

Liu Xiaoguang frowned.

“What? Right to privacy? There’s no such law! Are you crazy? Besides, how do you know I was taking pictures of you?”

He denied it.

Uh?

Wen Yanyan awkwardly touched her nose. Yes, there was no such thing as a right to privacy in the late 1970s.

Her thinking was a bit ahead of its time.

“These eyes below my eyebrows saw it. Give me the camera.”

Wen Yanyan was determined.

“You’re sick.”

Liu Xiaoguang glared at her, about to leave, but Wen Yanyan stepped forward, grabbed his arm, twisted it, and then used the book in her hand to strike his elbow joint.

With that one blow,

Liu Xiaoguang felt a sharp pain and numbness in his arm, unable to hold the camera, which fell to the ground.

Wen Yanyan quickly caught the camera, then released Liu Xiaoguang and stepped back.

She swiftly opened the camera’s back and took out the film, holding it in her palm.

She then threw the camera back to the still-stunned Liu Xiaoguang.

“Okay, you can go.”

In just a few seconds, Wen Yanyan had completed her mission of seizing the film.

This man dared to secretly photograph her?

Didn’t he know who she was?!

“Wen Yanyan, are you a robber?! Return the film! It contains my personal privacy! Do you believe I’ll tell Nan Tuan about this? He’ll definitely divorce you!”

Liu Xiaoguang’s face was livid.

Wen Yanyan smiled.

“What? Personal privacy? So, are there nude photos of you in there?”

She deliberately held the film up to the sunlight to examine it.