Her Eyes Say She Likes You - Chapter 4
Chapter 4: Voice and Heartbeat
The phone vibrated, and the words “Editor Only Jia” flashed across the screen.
Dong Yan put down her inking pen, took a deep breath, and pressed the answer button.
“Teacher!”
The voice coming through the receiver was slightly clearer than in person, carrying the subtle magnetism characteristic of phone calls, like a small stone tossed into still water, creating ripples in her heart.
“Mhm, I’m here.” Dong Yan instinctively lowered her voice.
“Sorry to interrupt your drawing! It’s just these few spots in the draft…” Wei Jia’s tone immediately switched to work mode, speaking slightly fast but clearly. “The panel in the bottom right corner of page three, the male lead handing over the milk tea—I think his action could be a bit more ‘hesitant,’ you know, that feeling of wanting to give it but being too shy, with his fingers slightly curled?”
Dong Yan looked at her original draft and instantly understood: “Like… afraid of touching her fingers?”
“Yes, yes, yes! That kind of young, electric feeling!” Wei Jia’s voice became excited. “Teacher, you understand me!”
That phrase, “you understand me,” made Dong Yan’s ears warm slightly.
“And page seven,” Wei Jia continued, “The speech bubble for the female lead’s internal monologue here—can we change its shape to look like a slightly melting cloud? To match the grape-flavored cloud background you drew later, making the emotion more visualized?”
Dong Yan looked at the female lead’s line on the screen, “My heart feels like it’s becoming soft and fuzzy,” and nodded subconsciously: “Good idea. It will be more visually cohesive.”
“Right, right! I knew you’d like it!” The undisguised pride in Wei Jia’s voice was like that of a small animal being petted. “And finally… the male lead’s gaze…”
She paused, seemingly weighing her words.
Dong Yan waited patiently.
A slight sound, perhaps Wei Jia unconsciously tapping the desk with her finger, came through the phone. Then, her voice returned, a little lower than before, carrying a strange, focused intensity that cut through the airwaves:
“Teacher, you drew him too gentle. Here, it should be more ‘greedy.'”
“Greedy?” Dong Yan softly repeated.
“Yes, greedy,” Wei Jia confirmed. “Not a gentle gaze, but one that is possessive, tinged with a little anxiety and intense longing… like seeing the most precious treasure in the world and being terrified it will vanish in the blink of an eye.”
Dong Yan’s heart skipped a beat, without warning.
She looked at the male lead’s gentle eyes on the drawing board and suddenly felt that the “greedy” feeling Wei Jia described… she seemed to have felt it somewhere before.
On the other end of the phone, Wei Jia seemed to notice her silence, and her tone immediately became somewhat flustered: “Ah, I just said it randomly! Teacher, if you don’t think it suits, go with your feeling! Your sense is definitely the most accurate!”
“No,” Dong Yan regained her focus, her fingertip unconsciously rubbing the edge of the sketchpad paper. Her voice was still gentle but carried something new. “You are right… it should be, a little more greedy.”
She heard a clear sigh of relief on the other end, followed by a small, uncontrolled cheer.
“It’s settled then! Teacher, go ahead and revise. I’ll wait! No rush!” Wei Jia’s voice brightened again. “Oh, right, Teacher, what’s the weather like on your side? The clouds here have turned orange-flavored!”
Dong Yan turned to look out the window. The setting sun was sinking, trimming the clouds with gold.
She curved her lips slightly.
“Mhm,” she softly said, with an indulgence she hadn’t even noticed herself, “I see it.”
The call ended.
Silence returned to the studio.
But Dong Yan looked at the male lead’s eyes on the drawing board and did not pick up her pen for a long time.
That word “greedy,” and the hot, yearning voice with which Wei Jia spoke it—a voice that had pierced the electric current and struck her eardrum—seemed to still echo in the air.
She raised her hand and lightly touched her earlobe.
It felt a little warm.