SA | Chapter 17

Digesting Emotions

Gu Deng was about to call out to Zhang Li when he heard a buzzing sound behind him.

It turned out Zhang Li was already up and flying a drone.

He seemed not fully awake, lazily staring at the remote control screen, his hair sticking up messily.

When he looked up at the drone, he yawned, showing a rare childish expression.

Gu Deng never imagined Zhang Li could be so sleepy.

He always thought Zhang Li was perpetually energetic and invincible.

Next to Zhang Li, a tripod held a long-focus camera, capturing the details of the reindeer migration.

Inside the open camera bag was a Hasselblad film camera.

With so much equipment, no wonder Zhang Li was into intense fitness training.

The weather had been terrible in recent days, and they were busy traveling.

This was the first time Gu Deng saw Zhang Li shooting, and it was more ordinary than he expected.

Gu Deng recalled the large teams involved in fashion shoots, with dozens of people, several assistants, lighting technicians, wind machines, and equipment carriers, all under the photographer’s command like a general issuing orders.

But Zhang Li’s shooting was quiet. He was alone, with limited equipment, quietly blending into the wilderness, capturing images of the animals. The drone was still high in the sky, but on the ground, the reindeer had already moved out of the camera’s frame.

Gu Deng walked over and asked, “Need any help?”

Zhang Li looked up, a bit surprised, “You know how?”

Gu Deng replied, “Not professionally, but I can follow the focus.”

Zhang Li said, “Then help me watch the video. I’ll go ahead and take some photos.”

Gu Deng nodded in agreement.

Zhang Li controlled the drone to return to the landing pad and headed towards the reindeer with the film camera.

Gu Deng didn’t move the tripod, just turned the lens slightly, searching for useful footage.

He wasn’t into photography and didn’t know much about cameras.

But having been photographed so many times, he had developed a sense for the lens and knew what kind of shots were more appealing.

He took quite a few close-ups and then some wide shots, capturing the distant mountains, snowy fields, and the reindeer herd in the frame, including Zhang Li, who was photographing.

Zhang Li got very close to the reindeer.

His film camera had a fixed lens, so to get close-ups, he had to zoom in manually.

Fortunately, the reindeer here weren’t afraid of people.

Even when Zhang Li got close, they only glanced at him before continuing on their path.

Zhang Li didn’t interact with the reindeer, just stood nearby, focusing on his camera.

Gu Deng noticed that Zhang Li’s shooting pace was quite slow.

In the photography sessions Gu Deng had experienced before, whether it was shooting a music video or fashion photos, the scenes were chaotic, with a fast-paced, war-like atmosphere.

But Zhang Li seemed to immerse himself in it.

He barely spoke, and if it weren’t for the camera in his hand, he would have looked no different from the animals living there.

However, it wasn’t entirely without surprises.

A reindeer, attracted by the shutter sound, left the herd and approached Zhang Li.

Zhang Li didn’t move.

Wildlife photographers have their principles and won’t interfere with animal behavior.

But while he didn’t provoke the animals, the animals decided to provoke him.

The stray reindeer walked right up to him, trying to nibble on his camera lens.

Zhang Li was forced to retreat, eventually sitting down in the snow.

The reindeer wasn’t done and tried to nibble on his hair.

It even chewed a couple of times, found no taste, and left with a look of disdain.

Gu Deng watched the whole scene, laughing so hard he could hardly stand. When Zhang Li returned, Gu Deng showed him the video, and they both laughed again. “Is wildlife photography always this thrilling?”

“Not always,” Zhang Li said calmly, brushing his saliva-dampened hair. “Animals know they can’t eat photographers.”

Gu Deng laughed until tears came out. The morning was filled with laughter, and before they knew it, the blue hour was gone, and the sun rose, turning the snow into a dazzling white. Zhang Li packed up his photography gear.

Gu Deng melted snow for water, filling two thermos cups, and boiled a pot of water for oatmeal. Meanwhile, Zhang Li broke camp and packed their belongings. Without any specific rules, they naturally fell into this division of labor.

The sun was a bit strong, and Gu Deng didn’t want to wear sunglasses, so he turned his back to the sun while eating. When he looked up, he saw Zhang Li’s hair sticking up, frozen where the reindeer’s saliva had dampened it.

Gu Deng pointed at Zhang Li’s head, laughing. Zhang Li looked confused. Gu Deng said, “Your hair, it’s standing up.”

Zhang Li pressed it down with his hand, but it didn’t help. Gu Deng, too lazy to instruct, reached over and pressed it down for him, patting it twice to make sure it stayed.

Zhang Li kept his head down the whole time and only quietly thanked him when Gu Deng withdrew his hand.

“No problem,” Gu Deng waved it off, then asked curiously, “What made you want to become a wildlife photographer?”

Zhang Li replied, “I like animals.”

Gu Deng was taken aback, not expecting such a simple and direct answer. Liking animals led him to become a wildlife photographer. It made perfect sense, yet why was he so surprised?

Gu Deng guessed that Zhang Li must have a good family background. Maybe not from a wealthy family, but at least financially secure, otherwise, it would be hard to pursue such an expensive niche career.

Perhaps sensing Gu Deng’s prolonged silence, Zhang Li added, “Initially, I just traveled around. Then I realized I was more interested in the animals living there than the scenery, so I gradually turned it into a career.”

Gu Deng felt a bit envious of Zhang Li. He had forgotten why he started making music. Did he like it? Probably, but the accompanying pain was also real. When he abandoned music and the pain, he felt lost, unsure of what else he could do.

Gu Deng asked Zhang Li, “If you weren’t a photographer, what would you do?”

He didn’t expect much because he could tell Zhang Li genuinely loved photography, thinking Zhang Li might give a similar “never thought about it” response like Zhou Bi.

“Be a chef,” Zhang Li answered straightforwardly.

Gu Deng was surprised, “A chef?”

Zhang Li nodded, “If I don’t photograph anymore, I’d like to open a small restaurant and be an ordinary chef.”

If possible, he’d like to cook for someone he loves.

In his mind, Gu Deng pictured Zhang Li as a chef, wearing a black apron, his strong arm holding a pan. With his good looks, he might even run a trendy restaurant.

“Sounds good,” Gu Deng smiled, “I’ll be your customer.”

Zhang Li nodded, saying, “You’re welcome anytime.”

They chatted for a long time, until their oatmeal breakfast went cold. Gu Deng forced it down and stuffed the packaging into the trash bag.

As the sun rose higher, Zhang Li began packing the tables and chairs. Gu Deng grew silent, looking troubled. It wasn’t until Zhang Li took out the satellite phone that Gu Deng looked up and grabbed his arm.

Zhang Li looked up.

Gu Deng hesitated, asking if Zhang Li had contacted the small plane.

“No,” Zhang Li said, “there was no signal during yesterday’s snowstorm.”

Gu Deng pursed his lips and asked, “Can we not contact them yet?”

Zhang Li didn’t speak but stared intently into Gu Deng’s eyes.

Feeling a bit embarrassed under the gaze, Gu Deng quietly said, “I’ve changed my mind. I want to keep going. Of course, if you don’t want me tagging along, I can head back.”

“No,” Zhang Li quickly said, “I don’t mind you tagging along.”

Gu Deng’s eyes lit up, “So it’s settled?”

Zhang Li fell silent, frowning slightly, as if struggling with something.

Gu Deng asked, “Is there a problem?”

Zhang Li asked, “Why do you want to continue?”

“Yesterday, I was mainly too tired,” Gu Deng admitted, “but after a night’s rest, I feel ready again. Plus, I saw the sunrise, and it made me happy. I want to see more of these sights.”

Zhang Li was silent for a long time before finally nodding, “Alright, let’s continue.”

Gu Deng breathed a sigh of relief, stepping onto his skis to move forward.

They were in the transition area between mountains and plains, with long, gentle slopes. After a recent snowfall, it was perfect for skiing. They spent most of the day skiing, moving faster than the reindeer. By evening, they set up camp on a flat area, watching a herd of deer pass by in the distance.

Unlike the wild and powerful migration of African wildebeests, the reindeer moved orderly and quietly. Led by an older female reindeer, they advanced in a single file, leaving thin lines in the snow.

The sunset cast the reindeer herd into a silhouette, mesmerizing Gu Deng. Suddenly, the orderly reindeer herd became chaotic, scattering across the snow.

Gu Deng wanted to see what was happening, but Zhang Li suddenly grabbed his wrist, his expression changing, “Don’t go.”

“What’s wrong?” Gu Deng asked anxiously.

“It’s a bear,” Zhang Li said.

Gu Deng froze, looking towards the chaos center, and indeed saw a black figure.

“What do we do?” Gu Deng grew more anxious.

Zhang Li was silent for a moment, then said, “Let’s camp over there.”

They moved as far from the chaos center as possible, sealing their food in bear-proof bags and hanging them far away.

Gu Deng ate dinner absentmindedly. As night fell, the chaos caused by the bear gradually subsided. Later, Gu Deng asked Zhang Li if they could use the drone to check the situation.

Zhang Li agreed, and the drone flew towards the bear’s direction.

The reindeer had calmed down, regaining order under the lead of the female reindeer. The chaos left only a mess of hoofprints, growing denser towards the center.

Then Gu Deng saw the blood.

In the center of the frame, a hungry bear was feasting.

Gu Deng closed his eyes, unable to watch further.

The entire night, Gu Deng felt dazed. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the scene of the reindeer being attacked. Blood stained the snow, limbs shattered, entrails spilled, even steaming… It was a huge shock for Gu Deng. He couldn’t cook, had never handled butchered meat from the supermarket, let alone seen a large mammal’s corpse.

He recalled Zhang Li mentioning that a third of the reindeer would die during migration. As a human at the top of the food chain, he had envied the reindeer’s freedom, never considering the survival challenges they faced.

While he admired the sunset, did the reindeer also enjoy such beauty? Were their gentle eyes serene or fearful? Did they live in constant fear, unsure of their future?

Gu Deng’s mind was a mess, but eventually, exhaustion overcame him, and he fell into a deep sleep. When he finally slept, he dreamt he was a reindeer, attacked by a bear.

Gu Deng woke from the nightmare, staring at the dark tent ceiling. He couldn’t fall back asleep until dawn. He often struggled with sleep, waking before the alarm. Gu Deng crawled out of his sleeping bag, and next to him, Zhang Li opened his eyes. Gu Deng paused, apologetic, “Sorry, did I wake you?”

Zhang Li shook his head, saying he woke naturally.

Gu Deng didn’t speak further, dressing and leaving the cramped tent space for Zhang Li.

As usual, Gu Deng boiled water for breakfast while Zhang Li broke camp. Gu Deng knew that packing the tent was more troublesome than cooking. He had always taken Zhang Li’s care for granted, feeling like a newbie with less experience and stamina, thinking it was okay to do less.

But then he thought, why should Zhang Li do so much more?

Gu Deng set up a windbreak around the stove, then went to help Zhang Li with the tent stakes. Overnight, the snow stakes had frozen into the ice, and Gu Deng struggled to pull one out. As he worked on the second, Zhang Li had already removed the rest. They brushed off the snow and hung the damp outer tent on trekking poles to dry.

During breakfast, Gu Deng was quiet, and Zhang Li didn’t say much either. Suddenly, Zhang Li mentioned his first experience witnessing a hunt.

Gu Deng absently responded, then heard Zhang Li say, “I threw up on the spot and had nightmares all night.”

Zhang Li rarely talked about his past, so mentioning it now was probably to comfort him.

“I’m just not used to it,” Gu Deng poked at the sticky oatmeal in his bag, trying to cheer up, “I’ll be fine after a while. Thanks for telling me.”

Zhang Li shook his head, saying it was nothing.

They both understood that even with the best intentions, there was little an outsider could do. Gu Deng would have to process his emotions on his own.