Chapter 34: The Hidden Portrait

Chapter 34: The Hidden Portrait

Emily stared at Ryan, completely caught off guard by his sudden openness. She hadn't expected him to share such a personal backstory with her.

Ryan met her surprised gaze with a small smile. "Now, I can buy any camera I want," he said, "but what I really want is still that first point-and-shoot I never got to keep."

He stopped speaking for a moment, expertly adjusting the camera's mirror and gently blowing off the dust from the sensor before closing it up and handing it back to Emily.

"Actually, I could tell the first time I met you," Ryan continued.

"Tell what?" Emily asked, confused.

"You were one of those girls who was well taken care of," Ryan said, his voice warm. "You were surrounded by material and emotional wealth. I used to envy people like you—those who could afford the best equipment and develop the most artistic, uninhibited shooting styles."

He tilted his head and smiled. "Alisa, you're a born photographer."

Emily blinked, feeling oddly touched. As a well-known photographer, she was no stranger to compliments. But being praised by Ryan, someone who clearly understood photography, struck a different chord.

He wasn't just throwing around empty flattery. He recognized her talent, genuinely admired her work, and wasn't shy about expressing his appreciation.

That meant a lot more than the usual "great job" from people who didn't understand what it took to create a piece of art.

Emily accepted the camera from him, her emotions in a whirl, and unsure of what to say. She glanced at her phone.

"They said earlier that the setup in Hall B is finished. Want to go check it out?" she asked Ryan.

The exhibition she was referring to was her personal photography showcase. It was the first time Alisa had held an exhibition in her home country, and it was meant to draw attention to her newly launched studio.

Emily hadn't been particularly keen on organizing an exhibition, but it was necessary for promotion, so she agreed to it. She hadn't put much thought into the planning, leaving most of the work to her team.

But as she walked into the gallery, she was surprised to find the exhibition was much more sophisticated than she'd expected.

"This is one of your older works, isn't it?" Ryan asked, pointing to a photograph.

Emily thought for a moment, trying to remember. "Probably five or six years ago," she guessed.

As she moved further into the exhibit, Emily realized that it didn't just feature her award-winning pieces and recent cover shoots. There were also many older photos she barely remembered taking.

These were the ones she hadn't been satisfied with at the time and had put aside, forgotten. Yet, here they were, meticulously collected, beautifully framed, and now proudly displayed.

Emily looked around the carefully curated gallery, a suspicion forming in her mind.

This exhibition wasn't just the work of her staff.

There was only one person who could have access to all these photos…

Her suspicions were confirmed when she came across a photograph of a cityscape—an aerial view of Jiangcheng at night. The angle, the perspective… it was a view you could only get from the top floor of Starry Pavilion.

Emily stared at the photo, lost in thought.

Ryan's voice snapped her out of it. "Hey, look at this!"

He pointed to a separate room within the gallery. The walls were bare except for one large portrait that hung in the center.

As they stepped inside, Emily realized this wasn't a photograph. It was an oil painting, nearly as tall as she was—a portrait of herself.

"Wow," Ryan exclaimed, "Did you paint this, Alisa?"

Emily couldn't take her eyes off the painting, shaking her head slowly. "No… I didn't paint this."

She wasn't much of an oil painter, and this one was exceptionally well done. It was almost as if someone had taken a high-resolution photograph of her.

The painting depicted her in a simple white camisole dress, her head turned slightly as she smiled at someone or something off to the side.

Her eyebrows were gently arched, her lips curved in a bright smile. Even the delicate folds of the silk dress were captured with stunning realism.

Emily gazed at the portrait, trying to remember when this moment had been captured.

She couldn't recall the reason for her smile, or who it was directed at, but she knew she hadn't smiled like that in a long time—so freely, so warmly, with a radiance that seemed to light up her entire face.

"Who painted this?" Ryan asked, moving closer to inspect it.

Emily leaned in as well. In the bottom right corner of the painting, there was a date from last month and, beneath it, a small signature:

XX.

Ethan.

Emily's mind automatically filled in the name.

As soon as she said it in her head, the two small letters "XX" suddenly seemed to slice through the dark fog in her memory, leaving a small, sharp cut.

"What does this mean?" he asked, pointing at the "XX" she had written.

"It's your name," Emily said, pointing at the letters. "Ethan!"

"Ethan…"

"Can't you write my name correctly?"

Emily waved her hand dismissively. "I struggle to even write my own name."

Born and raised in France, Emily had always struggled with her native language. Her family was strict about it, insisting on speaking Chinese at home and even hiring a tutor to teach her.

Later, when Emily met Jessica and a bunch of friends in China and started following Ryan, her Chinese improved drastically—at least in speaking and reading. Writing, though, was still a challenge.

Emily scribbled "XX" next to "77" and held it up to Ethan. "Look!

"That's me, and that's you, 77 and XX. Haha, they match perfectly!"

Ethan stared at her expressionlessly, the look on his face reminding Emily of her old Chinese teacher.

She flashed him a smile, tugging at his sleeve playfully. "I really can't do it!"

She wrapped her arms around his. "Can you teach me?"

Ethan was silent for a moment, his expression softening. "Okay, I'll teach you."

He took the pen from her hand and, just as he had done when they first met, wrote his name neatly on the paper.

When he finished, he handed the pen and paper back to her. Emily took the pen, looking like a student ready to learn.

But not long after…

"Why did you add another letter?" Ethan asked, rubbing his forehead. "It's 'Ethan,' not 'Ethana'!"

Emily ignored him, continuing to write with a focused expression.

Ethan watched her carefully, sighing softly. "No extra letters. It's 'Ethan,' not 'Ethana.'"

But Emily wasn't one to take criticism lightly. Frustrated, she threw down the pen. "I'm done!"

"It's your name that's weird and hard to write! And you're so impatient! I don't want to learn anymore!"

"Well, I suppose you could keep writing 'XX' and '77' then…"

"Alisa? Alisa?" Ryan's voice brought Emily back to the present as he gently touched her arm. "Are you okay?"

Emily shook her head slightly, as if to clear it. "I'm fine."

She forced a smile at Ryan, smoothing her hair, feeling a bit disoriented.

When she tried to recall the memories again, the fog had returned, leaving only darkness behind.

Except for the "XX" and "77," she still couldn't remember anything.

**

Ethan's efforts in organizing the exhibition for her studio paid off. It showcased that Alisa could excel at much more than just cover shoots—she was equally skilled in portrait, landscape, and poster photography.

Soon after the exhibition, Emily received her first assignment that wasn't a cover shoot—a public service campaign titled "Dance Underwater," aimed at protecting the oceans.

Unlike her previous commercial projects, this public service announcement would be archived in the national public service library, a testament to its importance.

The creative direction for the campaign was entirely up to her studio, and Emily took the task seriously, working tirelessly with her team until they finalized the shooting plan.

To ensure both the safety and the quality of the shoot, they decided against filming in the ocean. However, Creston Media's deep pockets quickly arranged for a massive pool that perfectly mimicked the sea. When Emily inspected it, she had to admit it looked convincingly real.

The model for the campaign was a celebrity named Lucas, who was a regular on various reality shows.

The choice of model wasn't Emily's decision. When she saw the model's portfolio, she stared at it for a couple of seconds, her lips tightening slightly.

Her assistant noticed her reaction. "Are you not satisfied?"

Emily clicked her tongue. "Why did they pick her?"

"Oh, she used to be a swimmer," the assistant explained. "I think she was even on the provincial team at one point."

Emily nodded in realization. Shooting underwater wasn't something just any model could handle.

This particular model had the required skill set. Though her looks and overall vibe weren't quite what Emily had hoped for, it wouldn't be noticeable underwater. The play of light and shadows would likely create the desired atmosphere.

Emily agreed to proceed.

She had high standards for her models but didn't demand perfection—her job as a photographer was to bring out the best in whoever stood in front of her lens.

But before Emily had a chance to work with the model and draw out her unique qualities, the model's personality made itself known in a big way.