Bei Yiyi upheld the professional ethic that every photographer must record beautiful things.
So she picked up her camera and was sneakily snapping pictures of a handsome man. As she snapped away, the man in the lens suddenly turned his head towards her.
Bei Yiyi, through the camera, saw the man's handsome face clearly and suddenly froze.
Why does this man look so familiar?
She had just recalled that this handsome man was the gay she had seen at Nakajima Hotel last time when the man's voice, cold and angry, rang out in front of her, "Have you taken enough photos?!"
"..." Bei Yiyi immediately felt the awkwardness of being caught in the act. She coughed embarrassingly and pointed to the work badge hanging on her neck, "I am a photographer from 'Fashion Ruisa Magazine', in charge of taking pictures for tonight's event."
Wu Yao's eyes, dark as obsidian, sharply fell on her work badge, and his thin, elegantly shaped lips curled up with a cold mockery, "Bei Yiyi, intern photographer."