The Cultivator's Reborn to 1970s
Chapter 107 - 93 (asking for first-time subscriptions, asking for monthly tickets)

Chapter 107: 93 (asking for first-time subscriptions, asking for monthly tickets)

Mo Junhua seemed to have eyes in the back of his head; as soon as Lan Tian halted her steps, he immediately turned around and said earnestly, "I was thinking, once you go off to study in Shanghai, you’ll be far from home and won’t return many times a year. You’ve never left home since you were little, and grandma and the others will definitely not be used to it. Keeping your photo at home, the elders can think of you and look at it when they miss you."

"..." She couldn’t argue with that reasoning, and Lan Tian was left speechless.

Lan Tian gave him a doubtful look, "Would you really be that kind?"

Mo Junhua’s misdeeds were numerous indeed.

Mo Junhua sighed, his voice tinged with helplessness, "If you don’t want to, forget it, we won’t take the picture. It’s useless to miss someone who’s not here, and as time passes, grandma and the others will get used to it." He turned and started walking out.

Lan Tian wanted to say that reverse psychology wouldn’t work on her, but somehow Mo Junhua had hit her weak spot. Annoyed, she snorted and headed towards the photo studio. Behind her, Mo Junhua’s lips curled into a smile before he quickly resumed his stern expression and slowly followed her from behind.

Since it was a photo to leave at home, it naturally had to be the best one. Lan Tian looked at the camera with a smile as bright as sunshine. Her beauty was unparalleled, her eyes were soulful, and her aura was ethereal, exuding an immortal-like charm. With that smile, it was as if flowers were blooming brilliantly, enough to topple cities and nations. The young photographer in the studio was so stunned that he forgot to press the camera button.

Despite the sweltering summer heat, Mo Junhua’s cold aura was free of charge, making the stuffy photo studio feel like a chilly cellar thousands of years old. The young Master shivered and rubbed his arms, surprised, "Why is it so cold?"

As he spoke, he curiously looked around, but when his gaze met Mo Junhua’s sharply cold eyes, he shivered with fear and quickly averted his eyes. His gaze shifted back and forth between the two and lightning struck his mind as he suddenly realized. Could these two be husband and wife? ’Click’ ’click,’ he quickly took two photos of Lan Tian, ready to pack up and leave.

After finishing the photo shoot, Lan Tian also prepared to get up. Mo Junhua swiftly came over in two steps, showing no sign of his foot problem, not afraid of limping. He pulled Lan Tian to sit back down.

"Grandma mentioned before that she would like to have a photo of us for our marriage at home. It’s hard to refuse the wishes of the elderly as their descendants. My mother is also getting on in years, and I’ve been unable to show filial piety by being at home while I was in the military. I’d like to leave a photo for my mother as a keepsake for her," he said.

Lan Tian quietly looked at him, weighing the truthfulness in Junhua’s words. Junhua met her gaze with open and steady eyes. After a moment, Lan Tian had no choice but to sit back down; taking one photo was the same as taking two.

Mo Junhua had come today specifically to have his photo taken, dressed in his brand-new uniform. Before taking the picture, he straightened his military attire and tidied up Lan Tian’s clothes as well, then instructed the young photographer to make the photo flattering.

He, handsome; she, stunning. He in military green, she in a pink dress—like a pair of perfectly coordinated flowers, they looked as though they were meant to be together. With such an eye-pleasing scene, there was no need for him to tell the young photographer to make the shot look good.

The photographer patted his chest, assuring that he would indeed take a flattering picture. Definitely, especially seeing how the man’s gaze could freeze him solid.

After the session, Mo Junhua went over to the counter to instruct the young photographer on a few matters; overhead by Lan Tian as nothing particularly significant, just a request to print several copies and to do a good job with them before she walked outside, standing by the door and observing the hustle and bustle of the street.

When Mo Junhua came out, Lan Tian suddenly turned around, extending her hand and asking, "Where’s my photo?"

Looking at the porcelain-white little hand reaching out to him, Mo Junhua smiled. His palm flipping over, he gently held her hand, "How could it be ready so quickly? It will take a few days, which is perfect for us to pick it up right after our wedding."

Lan Tian couldn’t believe it as her eyes widened. She looked at their clasped hands and then at Mo Junhua, trying to pull away only to find that, although Mo Junhua wasn’t holding tightly, she couldn’t break free.

The young photographer in the studio, noticing they had not left yet, glanced over, his eyes falling on their linked hands and wore an expression that said, ’I knew it.’

"Let go. It’s unseemly on a bustling street to pull and tug at each other like this. Mind your image as a soldier," Lan Tian said, drawing the attention of people inside the photo studio. She showed no signs of shyness and struggled to break free, but Mo Junhua continued to hold her hand.

Once they reached the busy main road with lots of pedestrians, to avoid people gossiping about their improper conduct or suggesting that military men should be more disciplined, Mo Junhua would not publically engage in such behavior. Though in private, he was indifferent to small intimacies between them when others couldn’t see. Reluctantly, he had no choice but to let go of her hand.