With Shao Mingyin’s promise, Liang Zhen couldn’t wait to fast-forward time by six months, but such thoughts could only remain fantasies. For now, he had more immediate tasks to focus on, namely shooting the music video (MV).

After discussing the MV’s content with Jewish, they both agreed that it should showcase the city, its streets, and the various people living there, rather than focusing solely on the rapper performing the song. This was a great concept, but Liang Zhen, being energetic, thought of an idea inspired by the line in the song, “I stand on the ruins of fertile fields, I think of the cows and sheep of my hometown.” He wanted to dress up as a shepherd and take some concept photos among the ruins.

Liang Zhen initially looked for cosplay costumes online, but they all seemed too new and lacked the desired texture. So he contacted an old man who raised sheep in the mountains of Wenzhou and borrowed some linen clothes and boots. Once he put on the outfit and added a wide-brimmed hat, he genuinely looked like a shepherd boy.

He tried on the outfit at home, and Shao Mingyin first said he looked the part, then shook his head, noting that no shepherd would be as fair-skinned as Liang Zhen. Acknowledging this, Liang Zhen smeared some mud-colored paint on his cheeks before the shoot. With this, he looked rugged and wild, as if he had sprung from the land itself.

The location he chose was the ruins of an illegal construction site. Sitting on a hollow concrete slab with one leg bent and the other dangling slightly, he posed with a blade of foxtail grass in his mouth. He also took photos holding a flute—not that he could play it, but it served as a prop. When Jewish’s lens captured this young man seemingly engrossed in his finger movements over the flute holes, the image convincingly portrayed him as the last lonely shepherd in the urbanization process, singing the final pastoral songs.

Perhaps because he was from Lanzhou, Liang Zhen felt a natural affinity for the land. Whether in any city, his passion for the soil was genuine and heartfelt. During the MV shoot, Jewish and Liang Zhen often walked through the abandoned fields of Wenzhou. Each time, Liang Zhen arrived excited but left melancholic, including this time. This particular ruin was once a factory before it was demolished, leaving behind not only bricks and concrete but also many rusty steel wires. Liang Zhen picked up one, folded it, and held it, finding no garbage bin nearby. He then walked over to Jewish to review the photos.

“Why are the last few shots so dark?” Liang Zhen asked, pointing to the last ten or so photos. “It still looked bright to me.”

“It might look fine to your eyes, but the camera is very sensitive to light,” Jewish explained. “I’ll adjust it in post-production; it’s not a big issue.” He handed the camera to Liang Zhen, telling him to take a good look and note his favorites for easier identification later.

“Okay.” Liang Zhen took the camera and began reviewing the photos while Jewish looked around. Although they were in a rural field, the surroundings were dotted with small Western-style houses and factory buildings in the industrial zone. The sun was setting, partially obscured by the buildings, but if they moved to a different spot, they might capture the sun setting along the camphor tree-lined path to the west. The light was dimming, but the sun’s rays extended into the white clouds, gradually tinting them red, orange, and even hints of purple.

Purple sunsets were rare in Wenzhou, and Jewish wanted to capture it. Just then, he heard a “click” of the camera shutter.

Coming back to his senses, he saw Liang Zhen aiming the camera at the path behind him. Liang Zhen handed the camera back, smiling without checking the photo. Jewish, out of habit, looked at the album to see what Liang Zhen had captured. Liang Zhen, who hadn’t learned photography, shot whatever caught his eye. Besides the parked car in the middle of the path, the photo didn’t have any obvious focal points. Jewish zoomed in and saw that the car window was down, and the driver, with one hand on the window sill and the other on the steering wheel, was smiling. He looked natural, not posing, but rather sharing a moment with the photographer.

Returning the image to its original size, Jewish remembered why the scene looked familiar. He turned to see the driver opening the car door, recognizing him as the person who had cheered Liang Zhen on and helped him turn the tables at the underground rap battle last year, despite wearing a police uniform now.

“I haven’t even called you yet, how did you get here?”

“You mentioned yesterday that you’d be shooting here today. I got off work early and came straight over.” Shao Mingyin had been leaning against the car door with both hands in his pockets, but as Liang Zhen approached, he took off Liang Zhen’s hat and tossed it into the car through the open window, then touched the paint on Liang Zhen’s face.

Liang Zhen let Shao Mingyin touch his face without any resistance, until Shao Mingyin smeared the paint on his nose, smiling at his own mischief. Liang Zhen wiped his nose with his sleeve, “accusing” Shao Mingyin of being childish.

“Why are you holding that steel cable?” Shao Mingyin asked. “Your hand is all rusty.”

“Uh… I’ll throw it away when I find a trash can.”

“Should we leave now?” Shao Mingyin glanced at Jewish, not far away. “Tell your friend?”

“Yeah,” Liang Zhen turned, ready to shout to Jewish that he was leaving.

But before he could, something caught his eye—a swarm of dragonflies. Shao Mingyin patted his shoulder, saying, “Dragonflies.”

Not just one or two, but dozens, all flying in the same direction. Liang Zhen let out a long “Wow—” and stepped back to stand with Shao Mingyin, pointing at their trajectory, exclaiming, “Dragonflies.”

Shao Mingyin understood Liang Zhen’s amazement. Though common, dragonflies were rare in dry Lanzhou, where vegetation was sparse. Here, seeing them in such numbers was a spectacle for him.

Following the dragonflies to another field, Liang Zhen’s mouth dropped open in amazement at the sight of countless dragonflies.

“Have you ever seen so many dragonflies?” Liang Zhen asked Shao Mingyin.

“Not this many,” Shao Mingyin admitted, also fascinated. “Maybe it’s going to rain heavily tomorrow.”

“Wow, wow, wow!” Liang Zhen was laughing and marveling, momentarily losing his ability to articulate. As a rapper, his vocabulary was reduced to “so many” and “dragonflies.”

“Wow, I feel so inexperienced now,” Liang Zhen joked, raising his hand to scratch his head, only to remember he was still holding the steel cable.

Looking at the roughly two-meter-long steel cable, an idea suddenly flashed through his mind. Ignoring the rust, he began shaping the steel cable into a form he envisioned. Then he turned around and smiled proudly at Shao Mingyin.

“Shao Mingyin,” Liang Zhen asked, “do you want ge to catch dragonflies for you?”

Shao Mingyin rolled his eyes and didn’t answer, skeptical that Liang Zhen could catch a dragonfly with his bare hands and unwilling to humor him. But Liang Zhen wasn’t discouraged, ready to prove himself. He bent the top of the steel cable into a circle about twenty centimeters in diameter, twisting the rest into a handle. He then looked at the camphor trees along the path, chose one, and reached up to gather some web from the branches.

“Are you really not going to play?” Liang Zhen’s hands were covered in rust powder, so he didn’t grab Shao Mingyin’s hand but nudged his back with his shoulder, urging him to join him in the field where dragonflies were most concentrated.

It was the end of June, and the southern fields were lush with greenery. Shao Mingyin stood on the stone path between the fields, watching the shepherd boy in front of him aiming a wire loop covered in spider webs at the dragonflies. From behind, Shao Mingyin had a clearer view and would alert Liang Zhen to the direction the dragonflies were flying, then follow along. Liang Zhen didn’t run but carefully avoided stepping on the crops, and after several swings, he managed to catch a dragonfly.

Worried that the spider web’s stickiness might not hold, Liang Zhen quickly grasped the dragonfly’s two pairs of wings. Shao Mingyin walked up beside him, and when Liang Zhen extended his hand, the red dragonfly came into Shao Mingyin’s view.

Shao Mingyin asked how he came up with this method of catching dragonflies.

Without hesitation, Liang Zhen said his dad taught him. When he was a child, seeing a dragonfly always made him happy, so his dad came up with this method.

As childhood memories resurfaced, Liang Zhen felt a sense of relief. He realized that Liang Chongwei did love him; Liang Chongwei had once caught dragonflies with him.

Liang Zhen said, “Open your palm, and I’ll place the dragonfly in it.”

Shao Mingyin did open his right palm in front of Liang Zhen but still advised him not to let go, saying the dragonfly would surely fly away.

“Maybe it likes you too,” Liang Zhen said as he placed the dragonfly on Shao Mingyin’s hand, “just like I like you and won’t want to fly away.”

The dragonfly’s legs touchedShao Mingyin’s palm, and Liang Zhen slowly loosened his grip on its wings. They stood very close, their foreheads almost touching, with the dragonfly and the old scar on Shao Mingyin’s palm in their small field of vision.

“I’m going to let go,” Liang Zhen’s voice was very soft, afraid of startling the red dragonfly. When his fingers fully released, the dragonfly, now stretching its wings, surprisingly didn’t fly away. The setting sun beside them cast a shimmering light on the dragonfly’s transparent wings.

This whole process was witnessed by Jewish, who had hurried over. He saw how Liang Zhen caught the dragonfly and then placed it in Shao Mingyin’s hand. Murmuring to himself that Liang Zhen was indeed a wild child, he raised his camera to capture a few shots of them against the beautiful sunset.

Shao Mingyin, standing with Liang Zhen, began to laugh, causing a slight tremor in his previously still palm, prompting the dragonfly to flutter its wings as if about to take off. Instinctively, Shao Mingyin closed his fist, trapping the dragonfly in his hollowed hand.

He looked up, bewildered, at Liang Zhen, unsure of what to do next, his gaze unfocused in Liang Zhen’s eyes.

Liang Zhen, his face dirtied with mud, held Shao Mingyin’s hand and gently said, “Let’s let it go.”

Just like past troubles and worries, those seemingly irreconcilable pains, let them fly away.

They were still so close that when Liang Zhen lifted his gaze, he could count Shao Mingyin’s fluttering eyelashes. When Shao Mingyin lifted his head, the setting sun adorned his eyes with a bright shimmer. In those clear and bright eyes, Liang Zhen saw his own face illuminated by the light.

It wasn’t clear who initiated it, but as their lips touched, Liang Zhen knew that Shao Mingyin had released the dragonfly.

This was the moment Jewish captured when he pressed the shutter. He not only saw the two men kiss but also photographed it.

The visual impact was immense. Realizing he had captured this moment, Jewish was initially blank-minded. Then, he retrieved the photo from his DSLR, intending to delete it before viewing it.

But when he saw the photo—the delete prompt had already appeared after he accidentally pressed the trash icon. He hesitated, looking at the photo’s central figures and the sunset behind them.

He chose “No,” letting the complete photo appear on the screen.

Due to the backlight, the photo’s exposure was too low to discern their clothing colors or facial expressions, only showing their lips touching.

Not only the people but also the dragonflies and the distant camphor tree-lined path were silhouetted, leaving only outlines. Only the red sun and the cloud tinged with twilight showed rich and incredible colors.

First purple, then gradually deepening from pale pink to purple at the edges of the photo, transitioning inward to richer hues.

Then yellow and orange. The closer to the setting sun, the less white in the clouds, turning orange, then red… The entire photo captured the sunset’s splendor, with the red sun nestled between Liang Zhen and Shao Mingyin, below their kiss, gilding their outlines with golden edges.

Jewish stared at the photo, at the kiss, holding his breath. Accidentally pressing the trash icon again, he confirmed “No,” afraid of accidentally deleting such a good photo. He then raised his camera again, pointing it at Shao Mingyin and Liang Zhen.

Their lips had parted, no longer touching foreheads. Adjusting the exposure to an appropriate level, Jewish clearly saw Shao Mingyin laughing with his head thrown back. Liang Zhen raised his hand, intending to touch Shao Mingyin’s hair or face, but his hands weren’t clean, so he clenched his fist and placed it behind him. Shao Mingyin raised his hand too, pressing his fingertip playfully on Liang Zhen’s nose. Liang Zhen probably called Shao Mingyin childish but didn’t dodge, letting Shao Mingyin tease his nose indulgently…

Jewish didn’t know how many times he pressed the shutter or how many photos he took. As he reviewed the photos, the colors and light overlapping with the real scene before him, he realized that photography’s charm was in capturing beautiful moments. Watching Liang Zhen and Shao Mingyin now, he understood—

The beauty captured in that moment is fleeting.

But the love revealed in that instant is eternal.