Empreinte de main en sang

Chapitre 2

On this snowy night, if you have a computer at hand and happen to be listening to the radio and browsing the internet, would you, like me, write down the website address after hearing that story, open the webpage, and search for the girl you learned about from the radio waves?

I will, so I saw the girl.

Act One: Cyberbullying

Chapter 1

A policeman came to Yang Zheng's shop.

The snow stopped for a while in the afternoon, and Yang Zheng was taking photos of two young girls in the yard. The girls weren't customers; they were models Yang Zheng had painstakingly found. When the police arrived, Yang Zheng was persuading the two girls to take off their clothes. You see, the two girls were already dressed very lightly; if they took off any more, they'd be practically naked underneath. Standing in the snow in this freezing weather, almost naked, would definitely make anyone who didn't know better think they'd encountered a lunatic. But believe it or not, there are always those who are willing to risk their lives for beauty. Under Yang Zheng's persuasion, the two girls had already succumbed, and one of them was unzipping her jacket, revealing her snow-white breasts.

Just as Yang Zheng was about to achieve his goal, there was a knock on the door.

Before Yang Zheng could speak, the two girls exchanged a glance, then ran into the house together, arms crossed. Yang Zheng tried to stop them but failed, and felt a little angry, thinking that of all times, these people had to come at this crucial moment.

The knocking sounded again, loud and somewhat domineering.

Yang Zheng angrily went to open the door, but when he saw the policeman outside, his temper completely disappeared. Even if he still had some anger, he hid it tightly in his heart, and it was not visible on his face at all.

"You've only come to open the door now? What mischief have you been up to?" The policeman spoke as if he were talking to an acquaintance.

Yang Zheng was still holding a camera, an EOS 1DS-MARK II. The body, three lenses, plus batteries, flash, and CF cards, would cost over 100,000 yuan—the most valuable item in his studio. He hesitated for a moment, confirming that he was not only unfamiliar with this policeman, but had never seen him before.

"Taking photos of the snow scene, especially when there's a snowfall, is not easy," Yang Zheng said.

“What’s so special about snow? It snows here every year, and it lasts for days.” The policeman, who was very familiar with the place, walked into the yard as he spoke. “I can tell you’re not a local. You haven’t been here long, have you?”

"Half a year isn't a short time." Yang Zheng couldn't figure out the policeman's purpose and wondered if he had done something wrong.

"You own this photo studio? What's it called again? Time Station. What does a time station have to do with a photo studio?"

Upon hearing this, Yang Zheng knew he had encountered some uncouth people. He didn't want to explain; these uncouth people certainly wouldn't understand the difference between taking a photo and photography.

"Time Station" is the name of Yang Zheng's photography studio, and anyone with a modicum of common sense can easily understand its meaning. Yang Zheng hasn't been in this city for long, but his studio's business is booming. Many handsome men and beautiful women are abandoning high-end, luxurious photo studios and heading to this deserted old street in the old town, just so that Yang Zheng can capture their most beautiful and authentic moments.

Beauty and authenticity are what set "Time Station" apart from those large photo studios.

Yang Zheng looked up at the sky. The snow was still falling, but the light had become noticeably dimmer. He just wanted to get rid of the policeman as soon as possible so he could continue filming the two girls.

"Is there anything I can help you with? It's snowing so heavily, and you still came all the way here. It's quite nerve-wracking to think about."

"You haven't done anything wrong, why are you so nervous?" The policeman said sternly, looking around the courtyard before heading into the main room. The house Yang Zheng rented was a mansion belonging to a salt merchant before liberation, consisting of two courtyards with a two-story building in the middle, made of blue bricks and green tiles. One would think that such a large place would be expensive, but in reality, the mansion had been abandoned for many years; its owner had long since moved to the new city area, and this place was just waiting to be demolished and the compensation collected. Therefore, Yang Zheng only paid a small rent to move in.

It took a month to set up the house, and the studio opened shortly after. Yang Zheng didn't advertise or promote it; he simply hung a few photos on the wall of the alleyway outside. The alley was dark and damp, with dark green moss and vines growing on the walls. The photos hanging among these plants actually had a unique charm.

First, some girls tentatively walked in from the old street—you see, there aren't many people on the old street anymore. They're either from families struggling financially, unable to afford the exorbitant prices of apartments in the new district, or migrant workers and business people who come here for the cheap rent. The girls here are a diverse bunch, but broadly speaking, they're either girl-next-door types or prostitutes. These two completely different types of women usually exchange disdainful or contemptuous glances when they meet on the old street, but with Yang Zheng, they can coexist peacefully, sometimes even enjoying each other's company.

With so many young girls around Yang Zheng's place, some men would come under the guise of business. They were mostly young, with little money, but dressed in impressive outfits—hip-hop, Korean, or Japanese fashion. They would strike up conversations with Yang Zheng under this pretense, but their real aim was the young girls. Yang Zheng noticed this but didn't expose them, and as a result, he now had many friends.

But he never imagined that one of his friends would be a policeman.

The policeman was young, around twenty-seven or twenty-eight, about the same age as Yang Zheng, but fairer-skinned, with delicate features, and a slightly effeminate manner. If he took off his uniform, no one would guess his profession. Now, the policeman entered the house and his eyes widened at the sight of the two young girls. The girls were still wearing thin clothes, with only down jackets over them, and were warming themselves around the coal stove. Before taking the photo, the girls had carefully applied makeup and looked beautiful. Upon seeing the policeman, they didn't even raise their eyelids. These two men, who had traveled all over the country and spent most of the year in the south, were quite worldly and didn't take the young policeman seriously at all.

"Are you going to keep taking pictures or not? If not, we're leaving. We have a dinner appointment tonight." The two girls seemed a little impatient.

Yang Zheng glanced at the policeman with a troubled expression, two wrinkles forming on his forehead, but he didn't say anything.

“Why wouldn’t I take pictures? I don’t have anything else to do, so I just came over for a look around. The New Year is coming soon, and it’s a critical time for fire prevention and theft prevention. This area is under my jurisdiction, and I have to be responsible for the lives and property of the people,” the policeman said.

"If you don't leave, how can we film?" The little girl said what Yang Zheng wanted to say.

"You guys go about your business, I'll just watch from the sidelines." The policeman grinned. "Just pretend I'm invisible."

"Tch!" The two girls exchanged a glance, their faces showing disdain, then stood up together and headed towards the dressing room. "We're not taking pictures anymore. We're not circus monkeys, we don't need people to watch us."

The police officer, having been given the cold shoulder, wanted to say something but swallowed his words. Yang Zheng, standing beside him, was also quite unhappy, watching helplessly as the two girls went into the changing room, knowing that his chances were definitely over today.

"These two girls are quite stubborn." The policeman's comment was purely self-deprecating.

Yang Zheng remained silent, feeling quite annoyed by this person.

The two girls quickly changed their clothes, seemingly wearing very little, looking fashionable and trendy, like mannequins in a shop window. They greeted Yang Zheng, tossed their small bags behind their backs, and left. Yang Zheng hurriedly followed, saw them to the door, and apologized, saying he would call them again later.

After dropping off the person, Yang Zheng returned and stared at the policeman without saying a word. The policeman acted as if nothing had happened, looking left and right with his hands behind his back, looking quite relaxed. After circling around twice, he turned around and saw Yang Zheng still staring at him. Finally, he couldn't hold back any longer, coughed, and took out a cigarette to offer to Yang Zheng.

Yang Zheng waved his hand, indicating that he wouldn't draw the ticket, feeling increasingly confident.

"Don't look at me like that, as if I'm some kind of nuisance," the policeman said. "Actually, I'm not here for any other purpose than to make friends with you. I'm the local police officer in charge of household registration in this area, I know the place well. If you ever run into any trouble in the future, just give me a call."

Yang Zheng tensed up again, seemingly quite frightened: "Don't joke around, how could I dare?"

"What's there to be afraid of? Don't you believe me?"

“It’s precisely because I believe you that I’m afraid.” Yang Zheng took a step back. “No police officer has ever been this friendly to me before. And the police certainly wouldn’t arrest someone and have them call him, would they?”

The policeman paused, as if he wanted to say something, but he opened his mouth and didn't say anything.

"Speak, what do you want me to do? That's all I'm capable of anyway. I'm willing to risk it all; even if I lose my head, it'll only leave a small scar..."

The young policeman finally lost his composure. He glared at them, feigning an innocent and kind expression: "Are you kidding me? I'm a policeman. Do you think I'd let you do things like murder and robbery?"

"So what do you want me to do?" Yang Zheng chuckled inwardly. This young policeman was easily amused; he seemed to have a rather simple mind.

The police officer paused, his face turning red. He didn't answer Yang Zheng's question, but turned his gaze to a photograph on the wall. The photograph was quite large, unframed, mounted on a plastic board, its edges the same color as the wall. At first glance, it looked as if the girl in the photograph was sitting inside the wall.

Look closely, and you'll see the background of the photo is the main room of an old house, with the accumulated atmosphere of bygone years. The girl sits on the floor, her hair down, obscuring half her face. Her hair and clothes are wet, as if she's just come from the rain. She wears a loose, beige pullover sweater, so oversized that you can vaguely see her thin, frail body through it. Her face is pale, beautiful yet tinged with illness, her eyes staring blankly ahead, filled with too many unspeakable emotions—indifference, composure, or perhaps just an innate sadness.

The girl in the photo is Yang Mei, a makeup artist hired by Yang Zheng. The first time Yang Zheng saw her, he noticed her unique temperament, so she became the protagonist of the first set of sample photos in "Time Station".