Prodigy’s Playground

Chapter 164 Too Deep in the Role

“Huh?” “Huh?”

Jiang Ran and Fang Ze both hurriedly lowered their heads and looked toward the camera lens.

“…”

Sure enough.

In front of the huge lens of that Fuji GW690, a black plastic lens cap sat there like something that could blot out the sky, completely covering the entire lens.

This…

For a moment, the scene was painfully awkward.

“Pfft.”

Fang Ze really couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing. He shot Jiang Ran a look. “You were acting all professional and totally fooled me, but you didn’t even take the lens cap off!”

“Ahem.”Jiang Ran coughed twice, smoothly trying to save face. “Here’s the thing. Didn’t I just tell you that film cameras and digital cameras are ninety percent operated the same way?”

“But! The most important ten percent is this lens cap!”

He twisted the cap off and explained, “If you leave the cap on a digital camera, you can’t see anything, so this kind of mistake basically never happens.”

“But film cameras are different. This one has an independent viewfinder, so even if the lens cap stays on, you can still see a complete image through the viewfinder. So this is something you absolutely need to pay extra attention to.”

“Just admit you’re being stubborn.”

Fang Ze had already seen right through him. Carrying the camera, he walked off to the other side.

Jiang Ran took the camera over to Chi Xiaoguo. “Then the photo I just took—doesn’t that mean…”

“Yes, it’s already wasted.”

Chi Xiaoguo looked genuinely pained. “Senior, your Fuji GW690 uses a rangefinder. That means the light used for framing and the light used for imaging are separate. The light entering the viewfinder is completely independent.”

“So this is the biggest difference compared to an SLR— even if you don’t remove the lens cap, you can still see the scene through the viewfinder. You really, really have to remember that next time.”

“Medium-format film is rare, expensive, and hard to buy. The film rolls you bought this time are all standard size, so they can’t be used in your camera.”

“Oh, got it.”

Jiang Ran mentally filed that knowledge point away. “So that means the medium-format roll inside this camera can only take eight photos total. I already took one before, and now I wasted another one, so that leaves only six shots.”

“That’s right.”

“It’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

Jiang Ran was surprisingly open-minded about it. “Anyway, the whole roll has to be finished before the photos can be developed, so the sooner I use it up, the sooner the mission’s done. Just now, I completed another one-eighth of my KPI.”

Chi Xiaoguo was rarely left speechless by Jiang Ran. “Your KPI evaluation system is certainly… unique.”

For this autumn outing, all four of them had brought cameras.

Other than Jiang Ran’s Fuji GW690 being somewhat outdated, the other three cameras all had electronic functions like autofocus, making them much easier to use.

Originally, Jiang Ran hadn’t wanted to bring this camera at all, because it was simply too large and too heavy.

But Chi Xiaoguo had said, “Since your friend gave you such an expensive camera, you should hurry up and master it. That’s the only way to do justice to their thoughtfulness.”

Helpless, Jiang Ran had no choice but to carry it along.

The camera in Chi Xiaoguo’s hands was also the Kodak model they had used before in the Film Camera Club.

That was when Worldline 1 had first activated the Positron Cannon. Jiang Ran had mistakenly believed the time-traveling text would succeed and the worldline would jump back—so with the mentality of saying goodbye, he had suggested taking a photo of Chi Xiaoguo.

At the time, he had known full well that the photo would turn into dust in the coming Worldline Transition and cease to exist.

But because he wanted a proper farewell, he had still promised her that once they had club funding next semester, he would develop that photo.

—

Who would have thought his words would come true like a prophecy? It really had dragged on until this semester.

Honestly speaking.

That photo of Chi Xiaoguo had been the very first time in Jiang Ran’s life he had used a film camera.

It could practically be considered his debut work.

Even if the actual image quality was probably just average, the commemorative significance was enormous.

Chi Xiaoguo had specifically brought that camera along this time because she wanted to finish the roll during the autumn outing, so that after returning, she could develop all the photos in one go in the darkroom.

The four of them chatted and laughed as they strolled through the park, looking for scenery to photograph, enjoying themselves thoroughly.

After removing the lens cap, Jiang Ran also used the camera to take four landscape shots.

It wasn’t that there was nothing else worth photographing.

It was just that he couldn’t shake the feeling that the film capacity in this camera was incredibly precious.

Under the pressure of every shot being one less remaining, his hoarder instincts inevitably kicked in. Jiang Ran always felt that ordinary scenery simply wasn’t worthy of such valuable film. It had to be something refined to perfection.

So along the way, he had only taken four shots total.

Counting everything, the film roll inside the Fuji GW690 had now captured six photos in total.

They only needed to find a chance to take two more someday, and then they could remove the film canister and develop everything on it.

“Let’s take a group photo!”

Everyone’s cameras were almost full by now. Looking at the last two empty frames, Chi Xiaoguo proposed, “After all, this is our Film Camera Club’s first outdoor event. No matter what, shouldn’t we leave behind a commemorative group shot?”

Jiang Ran looked around. There was no one nearby.

“We can, but who’s going to take it for us?”

“Hehe, there’s automatic timer shooting!”

Chi Xiaoguo pointed at the timing dial on the Kodak camera. “This film camera came out pretty late, basically one of the final products of the film era, so it has autofocus and delayed shooting functions.”

“In a moment, we just need to stand in position, and I’ll set the ten-second timer.”

At moments like this, the little club president was unexpectedly reliable.

So—

Jiang Ran, Fang Ze, and Cheng Mengxue found a spot by the Liuliu River and struck their poses.

They had intentionally left one person’s worth of space for Chi Xiaoguo.

Meanwhile, she adjusted the focus from atop a rock in front of them, pointing the lens toward the three. “Okay, okay, KK! Don’t move!”

As she spoke, she turned the timer dial to ten seconds.

Counting down silently in her heart, she dashed in front of the three of them, tilted her head, and raised two cute V-signs.

“4, 3, 2, 1—”

“Cheese!” ×4

All four of them smiled at once.

With a crisp click, the Kodak camera on the rock recorded this historic moment.

Chi Xiaoguo ran back again and picked up the camera. “Okay, all done! But how it actually turned out… we’ll only know once the photos are developed. Right now it’s still a blind box.”

“When we get back, I’ll make multiple copies of this one. One for each of us, so everyone gets a keepsake!”

Then she checked the remaining film count again and coaxed, “There’s still room for one final photo. How about I take one of you three together? If I shoot it personally, I’ll feel more confident about the result.”

“Take one of the two of them.”

Fang Ze tactfully stepped aside and pointed at Jiang Ran and Cheng Mengxue. “Let the final frame be for those two.”

Jiang Ran and Cheng Mengxue both froze for a moment and looked at each other.

Cheng Mengxue blinked. “That’s true. It’s been a long time since the two of us took a photo together. The previous ones… were all from when we were kids. We even missed our high school graduation photo.”

“Mm.”

Jiang Ran answered softly.

If they were taking it, then they were taking it. It wasn’t really a big deal.

The two of them stood in place, arm brushing against arm.

A few strands of hair by Cheng Mengxue’s ear quietly fell against Jiang Ran’s neck.

“Look over here! Smile a little!”

Chi Xiaoguo aimed the viewfinder at the two of them, counted down three-two-one, and click.

The childhood sweethearts, separated by two years, were once again framed together by the shutter of time, fixing this moment of real history in place.

“Help—help—!”

Suddenly.

A woman’s crying scream came from the distance.

A woman in a dress was wailing at the top of her lungs. “Please save my child! Save my child!”

Following her gaze, Jiang Ran looked toward the river—

And saw—

A child was flailing in the middle of the water, splashing wildly, clearly swept down from upstream.

The river’s flow wasn’t fast, but hidden currents still churned beneath the surface, pushing the drowning child eastward.

“Not good!”

Jiang Ran made an immediate decision and sprinted toward the riverbank.

As he ran, he tore off his shirt and threw it onto the shore, then dove headfirst into the river in a single motion.

“Jiang Ran!” “Senior!”

Everything happened far too fast.

By the time Fang Ze and Chi Xiaoguo reacted, Jiang Ran had already jumped into the water and was swimming toward the drowning child.

“Ahhhhhhhhh!!”

Cheng Mengxue suddenly let out a horrifying scream and charged madly toward the riverbank.

“Wait!” “Sister Mengxue!”

Although Fang Ze and Chi Xiaoguo hadn’t understood Jiang Ran’s sudden move, they had enough time to stop Cheng Mengxue.

The two of them restrained her from front and back as she thrashed wildly.

“Xiaoxue! Calm down!”

“Senior going is enough! Sister, you—”

“LET GO OF ME!!!”

Cheng Mengxue was like a crazed wild dog, eyes wide, teeth clenched, completely stripped of her usual ladylike demeanor.

She struggled with all her strength, even tearing her sleeve loose.

“Calm down!”

Fang Ze pinned her down desperately, refusing to let her do something reckless. He trusted Jiang Ran had made his judgment, but Cheng Mengxue had obviously lost all reason.

“LET GO OF ME!!! JIANG RAN!!!”

Cheng Mengxue wailed incoherently.

Fang Ze had no choice but to lock his arm around her neck tightly. “Xiaoxue! Listen to me—”

Then Fang Ze let out a scream too.

A sharp, bone-deep pain shot through his arm.

Cheng Mengxue had bitten straight into it.

Blood immediately beaded out.

In that instant, the restraint vanished.

Like an arrow loosed from the bow, Cheng Mengxue shot forward with the speed of a swallow and leapt into the river.

Fang Ze and Chi Xiaoguo turned pale with fright at the sight.

But in the very next second—

They were left staring in stunned disbelief.

Because—

Cheng Mengxue’s swimming skills were astonishingly good.

She cut through the waves like a white streak, gliding beneath the surface like a fish, her swimming form impeccably standard. In only a few strokes, she caught up to Jiang Ran like an athlete in competition.

By then, Jiang Ran had already grabbed the drowning boy and was dragging him toward shore.

Cheng Mengxue’s five fingers clamped around Jiang Ran’s arm like iron shackles, using every ounce of strength she had to lift and support him upward.

Very quickly, the two of them brought the child into the shallows.

The boy had been flailing so violently that his drowning clearly wasn’t severe. The moment he could stand, he burst into loud sobs and ran toward his mother—

Over here—

Jiang Ran wiped the river water from his face and braced both hands on his knees, gasping for breath.

In front of him, Cheng Mengxue stood there the same way, breathing heavily.

Her soaked body trembled, and she glared at him with such ferocity it looked as if she wanted to devour him alive.

Her teeth were clenched, and her breathing only grew harsher.

“You—”

Jiang Ran was briefly speechless as he looked at Cheng Mengxue, drenched from head to toe.

She had jumped in without even taking off her coat.

That was a major taboo in rescue situations. Once soaked, clothes became heavy and turned into a burden.

“You don’t need to worry about me. I’m a very strong swimmer—”

Jiang Ran bent down, about to go ashore and pick up the coat he had thrown off so he could drape it over Cheng Mengxue—

Smack!!

An incomparably loud slap.

Jiang Ran froze where he stood.

The left side of his face burned hot, and the force of the slap even left him dizzy for a moment.

“You big idiot!!”

Cheng Mengxue was crying so hard her voice cracked, her entire body trembling uncontrollably.

“Do you have a death wish?!!!!”