Chapter 34: The Price of Ambition and the Gaze of the Heart

The platinum-blonde maiden’s eyes blazed with certainty, her tone unwavering. Lu Chen, realizing the futility of further concealment, could only offer a wry smile and confess.

“…Please, don’t tell Xia Shi. How did you find out?”

Morning Star proudly puffed out her chest, the pendants adorning her entire body jingling like wind chimes.

“I simply found it a little suspicious, so I probed a bit, and as a result, I’ve successfully reclaimed a victory, haven’t I?”

“Please don’t ask me for hush money.”

“Oh, you’re quite savvy, aren’t you? If you don’t want to pay, then tell me your reasons. Do you truly not wish for a promotion or a raise?”

Lu Chen lowered his gaze, staring at the oolong tea in his hands.

“Reasons, you ask. Miss Morning Star, you have your own cameraperson, don’t you?”

“Indeed. Unlike your rather mellow self, my fellow has considerable ambition; he seems to aspire to become a producer within a year. Consequently, he works incredibly hard, commuting between cities and working tirelessly from dawn till dusk.

From what I understand, he’s responsible for at least four magical girls, and he manages to care for each of them flawlessly. He’s practically a machine, exuding a subtle, inhuman aura.

Because of this, I sometimes find him quite intimidating. It’s not as if he lacks money, so why does he live with such frantic desperation?”

“Haha… I can certainly understand that. While I didn’t reach his level, most cameramen are like that; I was much the same in the past.”

Morning Star raised an eyebrow in surprise. She scrutinized Lu Chen, who was nursing his oolong tea with the same deliberate care an old man might give to polishing antique walnuts.

“That’s quite difficult to imagine.”

“Yes, even I find it bizarre when I look back. Compared to now, that state was far more aberrant, requiring immense fear to constantly drive me, just to maintain it.

Fear of poverty? Fear of losing status, being looked down upon? Fear of dying without accomplishing anything?

Everyone’s fears might differ, but ultimately, it all boils down to fear.”

“What a somber theory. So, what is it that *you* fear?”

Lu Chen lifted his head, gazing towards Lin Wan’s office, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“Originally, there were many things, but after meeting Xia Shi, I only fear losing her.

Becoming a cameraperson would simply force me to shift my focus to things I’m not interested in, needlessly shortening the time I have with her. It’s as simple as that.”

Morning Star narrowed her platinum-blonde eyes.

“You’re lying.”

“I don’t quite understand what you mean. Would you like some oolong tea?”

The platinum-blonde maiden extended a finger, pointing at the camera beside Lu Chen.

“If you were truly as detached and desireless as you claim, why did you just take two extra high-quality photos?”

Lu Chen’s hands trembled, and the drink bottle slipped to the ground. He fumbled frantically, hiding both the plastic bottle and the camera by his side.

“…Th-those were just taken on a whim. They don’t have any special meaning.”

Morning Star let out a soft sigh.

“Listen, you don’t need to be overly considerate of Little Fireworks. I know she has tendencies towards excessive attachment and a fear of loneliness, but surely that hasn’t held you back, has it?

In fact, wasn’t it she who dragged you here today to participate in the test?”

Lu Chen lowered his gaze, neither confirming nor denying.

“I merely weighed the pros and cons, making a choice to maximize my own interests.”

Morning Star rose from the bench, shrugging her shoulders.

“Well, how you choose to act is your freedom.

However, I still suggest you have a proper conversation with Xia Shi to understand her true feelings, rather than acting emotionally on your own and indulging in self-pity.

In that case, I’ll leave the oolong tea to you. Take good care of it, won’t you?”

“…Thank you for your advice. I’ll bear it in mind.”

The platinum-blonde maiden smiled, waved goodbye, and flew directly into the crowd, eliciting gasps of astonishment from passersby.

Lu Chen twisted open the cap and took a sip of the cool tea. He picked up his camera, turned on the screen, and reviewed the photos he had just taken, all while savoring the bittersweet tea.

****

As he pondered, a flicker of silver light suddenly darted across Lu Chen’s vision.

It slithered down his arm, pouring into the camera like a snake. The camera screen flickered and changed, displaying the scene within Lin Wan’s office.

Not only that, but the faint sounds from the office also reached his ears.

Lu Chen was slightly startled, but immediately recognized the cause of the strange phenomenon before him.

‘Someone is spying on me.’

****

‘Mr. Lu… you truly are remarkably resourceful, aren’t you? The moment you get a chance, you start secretly connecting with Morning Star. Xia Shi, from the springs below, would weep, you know.’

Inside the office, Ling Wei tidied documents for Lin Wan, all while discreetly observing the ‘Eye of Scrutiny’ embedded in her wrist. Through it, she monitored the scene that only she and Zero could unilaterally observe.

On the screen, Lu Chen had just bid farewell to Morning Star and was sitting alone on a bench. He held his camera, repeatedly flipping through the same few photos.

Concurrently, Zero, perched outside the window, sent a telepathic message.

[How is it, Master? Has your disguise finally been exposed? What a pity.]

‘Your tone hardly conveys any pity at all. Still, these poor toys haven’t grown suspicious of me in the slightest; they’re merely discussing rather sappy topics.’

As the master and servant conversed in secret, Lin Wan, holding a list, suddenly interjected.

“Xia Shi, what do you plan to do next?”

Lin Wan’s tone carried both hesitation and concern. Ling Wei immediately switched back to her slightly downcast Xia Shi persona.

She brought her feet together and offered a shallow bow to her superior.

“Please rest assured. I will remember your assistance as promised, redouble my efforts, and defeat even more monsters.”

“I’m not talking about that. Do you intend to keep persuading Lu Chen to be a cameraperson?”

The young woman nodded without hesitation.

“Yes, I’ll try again.”

Lin Wan sighed.

“…Though it might be overstepping, I suggest you reconsider. This past year, Lu Chen has been quite passive; it’s genuinely difficult for him to return to his former state.”

Even without having listened in on the previous conversation, Ling Wei naturally knew that this young man was holding back. She said, “Are you worried his skills have grown rusty? Don’t worry, in truth—”

Lin Wan waved the documents in her hand, shaking her head.

“No, it’s not a matter of skill. While his performance today was indeed subpar, he would certainly recover quickly if he applied himself. I’m talking about his *spirit*.”

“Spirit?”

“Yes. How to put it… *spirit* is a consumable thing; once it’s depleted, it can’t be retrieved.

If you force Lu Chen to be ambitious, he’ll probably cooperate reluctantly, but then it will likely be difficult for the two of you to get along as harmoniously as you do now. I’ve seen many similar couples, even married ones.

So, please consider it carefully. This is my advice as your mutual friend.”

Ling Wei fell silent for a moment, deep in thought.

Although Lu Chen wasn’t present, there were other ‘spectators’ before her. She still needed to maintain her perfect performance.

She walked to the desk and picked up a document—Lu Chen’s employment information.

“Sister Lin, look, Lu Chen was a cameraperson for a total of eight months.”

“Mm. However, only two of those months were spent working with you.”

The young woman caressed Lu Chen’s photo on the document, her gaze growing increasingly tender. She murmured, “Yes, but I’ve seen every photo he’s taken, every video he’s filmed, regardless of whether I was the main subject.”

Lin Wan’s eyes widened in surprise. The young woman continued, “The promotional video he shot for Senior Red Serpent was excellent. The shot of her sitting on a monster’s corpse, drinking mineral water with a child, was the best, simultaneously showcasing her power and her approachable nature.

The photo he took for Aurora, published in the weekly magazine, was also superb. Senior Aurora’s direct gaze is incredibly graceful and beautiful, isn’t it? But most photographers, because of that, would only ever shoot her from the front.

Lu Chen, however, used a backlighting perspective, bathing her silhouette in a golden halo, making her appear like an angel descended to earth. It almost made me a little jealous.

…Ah, but of course, the absolute best were definitely the promotional videos and photos he took of me.”

Seemingly realizing how engrossed she had become in her words, a faint blush crept across the young woman’s cheeks.

She quickly cleared her throat, then summarized.

“Whenever I see these works, I can envision his focused expression as he raises the camera and presses the shutter, and I can feel the affection he poured into them… It’s truly magnificent.

He’s very skilled as a cameraperson, and he genuinely loves this job. I hope he won’t worry too much and can fully advance along this path… though I admit, I will feel a little lonely.”

The young woman looked at Lin Wan, her gaze resolute.

“Lu Chen won’t lose his spirit; he merely needs a temporary rest.

I will wait for the day he recovers.”

****

The image in the camera flickered and shifted once more, returning to its normal appearance.

Lu Chen retrieved the two higher-quality photos he had secretly tucked away. He rose from the bench and walked towards the office.