The entrance of the teahouse was crowded with people. Terry Chen, furious beyond measure, grabbed the owner's collar, while two shop assistants already lay on the ground nearby.
Unable to understand Walter Cao and anxious about his own future, Terry Chen's anger erupted after a heated exchange with the owner. Broken teacups littered the floor, and several tables had been overturned.
"Please, spare me! I don't want your money anymore. Just go, it's my fault!"
The owner, seeing Terry Chen's eyes wide and furious like bells, was terrified and began to beg for mercy.
But Terry Chen only grew angrier. In the crowd, I spotted the Fake Taoist, Huang Mingfa, watching the chaos with a sly smile and cunning glint in his eyes.
At that moment, I saw Huang Mingfa jogging over, pretending to be out of breath.
"Oh, Terry Chen, here—this is your purse, right? You dropped it just now, and I picked it up. Here, take it back and leave quickly. Don't cause any more trouble. If the authorities come, you'll disgrace your master, and that wouldn't be good, would it?"
With that, Huang Mingfa pressed the purse into Terry Chen's hand. After Terry Chen paid for the tea and the broken cups, Huang Mingfa pulled him away from the scene.
"Why do you always resort to violence? If your master finds out about today, you'll be kicked out in no time. Do you really want to go back to being a contract laborer? Carrying loads at the dock every day? Being looked down on like this again?"
Terry Chen looked deeply worried, while Huang Mingfa seemed to have found Terry Chen's weakness, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
Terry Chen shook his head.
"Back then, we went into business together. Later, we lost money. To keep the business afloat, we borrowed money—not from a proper bank, of course. Eventually, the business collapsed. We tried to run, but got caught. Your master's leg was broken then. I pitied him, carrying all that debt alone. Now, he's finally paid it off, and I've ended up as a beggar. Who would've thought? Sigh...
Huang Mingfa sighed as he spoke. Terry Chen looked at him with sympathy, quietly watching.
"Who knew your master was hiding a large sum of money? I only found out later."
"But he doesn't seem like that kind of person..."
Huang Mingfa immediately pointed at Terry Chen’s stomach.
"You can never know a person's heart just by looking at their face. You're still too young to understand how dangerous it all is. Think about it—your master's shop must have cost a lot, right? The decorations, all that photographic equipment from the West, none of it is cheap. Where do you think he got the money?"
Terry Chen looked as if he had suddenly realized something, his gaze full of gratitude toward Huang Mingfa.
"Listen carefully, Terry Chen. By now, David Dong has probably taken the equipment back. When you return, your master will definitely ask you about it. Just say someone came to talk about photography business. That way, you can get away with it. Don’t say too much—your master is very clever. Honest people like you should listen to him for now. Later, I’ll help you think of something else."
Afterward, Terry Chen returned to the photo studio, where the porters had already started helping move the equipment.
"Terry, where did you go?"
Walter Cao asked, and Terry Chen quickly explained that he ran into someone on the street who wanted to take photos and pulled him along to talk business. Walter didn’t ask much, and even though Terry made up the story, Walter wasn’t suspicious. He didn’t know that Terry Chen was no longer the same honest apprentice.
After dinner at the studio, Walter Cao instructed his two apprentices to set up the new equipment, take it out, and assemble it.
They worked until after 10 p.m. Walter Cao was tired, too. After his apprentices left earlier, he hadn’t rested either—he found a rickshaw puller to help carry the equipment to a client's house for a photo shoot, and he still needed to develop the photos later.
"Master, I'll stay and help. Didn’t you say earlier..."
"Terry, you’ve been running around all day and must be tired. Since noon, you haven’t looked well. Go home early and rest, get your strength back. I can see you’re not in good shape. Let’s continue tomorrow."
This chapter isn’t finished yet~.~ Please click next page to continue reading!
Terry Chen responded with an "Okay," but his voice was a little loud, showing some dissatisfaction. At that moment, David Dong seemed to notice something, said goodbye to Walter Cao first, and left. He didn’t go far, just waited for Terry outside.
Inside the studio, after Walter Cao finished developing the photos, he went upstairs to his room, looking delighted.
"Soon, Grace. Just one or two more years, and I’ll have trained these two apprentices well. Then I can come find you."
Walter Cao gazed at the only photo of Grace Hu, looking absent-minded, calling her name over and over, whispering many things.
"Terry, want to grab a drink together?"
David Dong called out as soon as Terry Chen came out, but Terry said he was too tired and didn’t want to go. The two weren’t close; even when together, they barely spoke. In the past half year, they mostly kept to themselves.
"You think Master favors one of us, don’t you?"
As Terry Chen was about to leave, David Dong muttered. Terry’s eyes flashed with anger, but he shook his head and kept walking.
"By the way, Terry, why did you lie to Master today? I know you got into a fight at Su’s Teahouse."
At this, David Dong started laughing, and Terry Chen broke out in a cold sweat.
"Who... who told you that?"
"Come on, let’s have a drink. Or do you want me to go back and tell Master about your fight?"
There was a threat in David Dong’s words, so Terry Chen had no choice but to agree.
The two of them went to a night market, found a small stall, ordered some peanuts, meat, and two bottles of liquor, and started eating.
"You don’t really think Master taught me some advanced skills, do you?"
David Dong stared at Terry Chen as he spoke, but Terry just shook his head, then nodded.
"He taught me the same things he taught you. I just learn faster, and you’re slower. I’m not a gullible fool like you, trusting Walter Cao."
At this, Terry Chen took a swig of liquor and nearly choked.
"Do you really think he treats us as apprentices?"
David Dong kept talking, and in the end, Terry Chen shook his head.
"We’ve only been with him for half a year, and he already sends us out to shoot photos for clients. Think about it—if we mess up most of the time, even after we finish our apprenticeship, our reputation will be ruined. And we’re working under Walter Cao’s famous name."
"What’s really going on, David?"
Terry Chen grew anxious as he asked.
"Heh, he can teach us today and kick us out tomorrow. Don’t be fooled by Walter Cao’s disability—he’s smart. You have strength but he can’t move easily. Me, I’ve got brains. He gives me the studio’s ledgers and anything that needs calculating. I once asked him why his photos are better than everyone else’s. After all, this is the provincial capital, and people in other provinces know his name."
David Dong spoke, and they toasted a drink. He continued.
"He said, if you love photography and put your heart into it, you can take good photos. That kind of talk might fool a ghost. Think about when you first started as a laborer—did you know anything? Who wants to do this work? It’s just a way to survive. Times are getting harder."
Terry Chen sighed quietly. Walter Cao had also told him before that only with passion and love for photography could one take better pictures.
"So... what should we do?"
David Dong showed a sinister expression.
"People have to look out for themselves. To be honest, last time we went out to shoot photos together, the client wasn’t satisfied with my pictures either, but I didn’t tell Walter Cao about it."
"You lied to him?"
Terry Chen looked at David Dong in surprise.
At this, Terry Chen grew anxious.
"Heh, he can teach us today and kick us out tomorrow. Don’t be fooled by Walter Cao’s disability—he’s smart. You have strength but he can’t move easily. Me, I’ve got brains. He gives me the studio’s ledgers and anything that needs calculating. I once asked him why his photos are better than everyone else’s. After all, this is the provincial capital, and people in other provinces know his name."
David Dong spoke, and they toasted a drink. He continued.
"He said, if you love photography and put your heart into it, you can take good photos. That kind of talk might fool a ghost. Think about when you first started as a laborer—did you know anything? Who wants to do this work? It’s just a way to survive. Times are getting harder."
Terry Chen sighed quietly. Walter Cao had also told him before that only with passion and love for photography could one take better pictures.
"So... what should we do?"
David Dong showed a sinister expression.
"People have to look out for themselves. To be honest, last time we went out to shoot photos together, the client wasn’t satisfied with my pictures either, but I didn’t tell Walter Cao about it."
"You lied to him?"
Terry Chen looked at David Dong in surprise.