This person was naturally He Yao, an acquaintance of Wang Yan's.
She was He Shengli's daughter, the one people had been talking about at the company. She had just returned from studying abroad, liked photography, and was pursuing it professionally.
Her own father was lying in the hospital, yet she still had the mood to come out and take pictures. That meant He Shengli was perfectly fine. And indeed, with such a crudely built wall and the short distance involved, the bricks had barely had time to accelerate. The injury could not have been serious—at most, a few bumps and bruises. Besides, two days had already passed.
At first, He Yao had smiled faintly at Wang Yan's approval. But when she heard what he said afterward, she froze for a moment. She had not expected him to be so blunt.
"I did take two pictures. Have a look."
She fiddled with her camera and found the photos. Since Wang Yan was squatting, she thoughtfully bent down slightly so he could see them better.
Seeing him take a couple of glances without saying anything before continuing to stuff himself, she asked, "Not satisfied?"
"They're very flat. The lighting and shadows are a little lacking. But I can tell you had an idea in mind. It's just that you don't seem very used to taking this kind of documentary photography. I think you probably shoot more architecture and landscapes."
He Yao's eyes widened. "You could tell that? How?"
Wang Yan looked up at her. "Why don't you sit down for a while? This planter is pretty low. You look uncomfortable."
He Yao was wearing jeans, so there was nothing inconvenient about it. She did not even bother blowing or wiping off the planter before sitting down directly. She stared steadily at Wang