Chapter 97

Essie was held up by Director Yang and the producer. After a few polite exchanges, she finally managed to leave.

Just as she came out of the dining hall, she ran into Xiang Feiran and greeted him with “Xiang Bo.” Xiang Feiran nodded, recognizing that she was accompanied by the director and producer, and quickly walked away to avoid getting caught up in more social obligations.

Essie wanted to smile, but kept her lips tightly pressed together. Noticing Shang Mingbao emerging from the shadows, her smile turned into a puzzled look: “Weren’t you on your way back to the inn?”

Shang Mingbao came up with a flimsy excuse: “I lost an earring and came back to look for it.”

Essie didn’t suspect anything and walked out of the courtyard with her, saying, “Did you see Xiang Bo? He came out in the same direction as you.”

“Yes,” Shang Mingbao replied vaguely, “we didn’t talk much.”

“Xiang Bo is a lot of fun. He must be worried about Director Yang dragging him into more conversations; he left without looking back.”

Shang Mingbao’s expression softened: “Otherwise, why would he pretend to be mute for four years?”

“On the show, I thought he was one of those overly cool guys pretending to be aloof, but actually, he’s just not very talkative and quite approachable,” Essie said. “You left early, but just before the tables were cleared, he asked me how you were feeling.”

Shang Mingbao’s ears perked up at her words, though her face remained impassive: “What did you say?”

Essie was not one to gossip. When Shang Mingbao asked her not to make a fuss, she didn’t tell anyone about her discomfort. When Xiang Feiran asked about it, Essie was caught off guard.

He didn’t ask if she was feeling unwell; he asked, “How is your boss feeling now?”

With his skilled questioning and that face and eyes, Essie was caught off guard and instinctively answered, “Much better; she hasn’t thrown up since.”

Only after answering did she realize, “How did you know?”

Xiang Feiran casually responded, “I saw.”

“Saw?” Shang Mingbao was surprised. “How did you see?”

Essie scratched her head: “I have no idea.”

At some service station, she thought she had found a secluded corner and vomited among the waist-high overgrown weeds, not realizing someone had stopped behind her. Standing quietly under the sun, with a water bottle opened for her, he assumed she wouldn’t want to meet him in such a state, so he left.

During the interval between toasts at the banquet, Xiang Feiran told Essie, “If you need anything, contact the producer. Don’t handle it all by yourself.”

Essie thought, “He cares about my work and solves my problems? Is this his style?”

Xiang Feiran added, “If your boss tells you to handle it on your own, don’t listen to her.”

Essie responded, “Okay.”

Should she add him on WeChat next? Oh, men.

Unexpectedly, after saying this, Xiang Feiran picked up his lighter, lit a cigarette, and walked away without looking back.

So Xiang Feiran had actively asked Essie about her. Shang Mingbao didn’t dare assume this meant anything, or that it was evidence of lingering feelings; all she thought was: So Xiang Feiran doesn’t dislike her. He doesn’t harbor resentment.

When she got to the inn, she cleaned up and went to bed, listening to Lin Tao sleep soundly through the night.

The next day, the team set off early at around seven in the morning.

They entered the mountains through a small path behind the village, led by two guides—one leading and one bringing up the rear—along with two local plant experts, and the crew’s photographers, lighting technicians, and support staff.

Xiang Feiran walked with the director and the experts at the front of the group, while Shang Mingbao and Essie lagged behind. They couldn’t hear what was being discussed, but she occasionally caught glimpses of Xiang Feiran as they rounded corners.

For official projects, attire cannot be too casual. The quick-dry pants were paired with an American-style shirt, loose and shaping his silhouette, with a black microphone neatly clipped to his collar.

Shang Mingbao thought, they should have had him wear a windbreaker and fingerless gloves, professional and cool. Then again, that would probably have made him overheat.

Inside the rainforest, it was strange, vibrant, and humid, with seemingly stagnant air.

Shang Mingbao carried a telephoto and a wide-angle lens, while Essie handled the macro lens. After photographing a pale orchid hanging from the air, Fu Yu joined them and asked, “What do you think?”

Shang Mingbao looked at her and said, “The rainforest is dense and suffocating, with plants like giant snakes.”

Fu Yu was momentarily taken aback by her answer: “I didn’t expect that.”

She continued, “It’s a place of strict hierarchy and survival of the fittest. The rainforest, known as an aerial garden, houses over 913 genera and more than 20,000 species of plants. Here, seeds can’t afford to wait like those in highland permafrost, which can lie dormant through three winters for a warm spring. If seeds don’t germinate quickly once they fall, they lose their chance.”

She laughed and said, “The scene we’re about to shoot will be the same. When a giant tree dies and makes room, nearby plants race to enjoy the sunlight, develop their roots, and occupy the soil. Whoever grows upright first and takes the lead gets to bask in the sunlight alone.”

After arriving at the shooting location, Xiang Feiran cooperated with the shoot while the rest of the team engaged in various activities: some were collecting filming material, some were gathering plants, and others were chatting with their arms crossed.

The paths in the forest were extremely difficult to traverse. The strong buttress roots of trees protruded from the ground, and the intricate root systems were hidden under moss, the humus layer, and low shrubs and herbaceous plants. Tripping was quite normal.

Shang Mingbao stumbled over a buttress root, falling forward with both knees hitting the ground and her palms getting scraped with red marks.

The stillness in the rainforest is a kind of oppressive silence that breeds danger and swallows all living things. Despite her hard fall, only the sound of fallen leaves rustling was heard—not even a noise of surprise—except for Essie’s “Ah.”

Essie helped her up and quickly took out a wet wipe to clean her hand. Shang Mingbao wiped a bit and immediately checked the camera lens, unaware that amidst the overlapping forest trees, Xiang Feiran’s voice had paused for a moment.

In the lens, his distraction was evident. The director called “Cut.”

“I forgot my lines, sorry,” Xiang Feiran said calmly. “Let’s take it from the top.”

During the break between takes, he scanned the location and asked a consultant, “I remember there are two animal trails nearby?”

The consultant from the local plant office had mentioned this when showing him the infrared camera two days ago.

A recent typhoon had uprooted many trees, revealing the forest gaps. The giant multi-flowered crape myrtle they were currently at was chosen as the site to explain the forest gap phenomenon. The consultant regretted that the typhoon had destroyed the animal trails they had been tracking for two years, and the infrared cameras set up there were also damaged, leaving them unsure of the current status of nearby wildlife.

The consultant acknowledged, and Hui Wen, being meticulous, had already started counting the number of people. “Oh, Teacher Shang and Essie were supposed to be filming that scorpion tail banana. Why haven’t they come back yet?”

Without waiting for Xiang Feiran to remind her, she called over a guy and went back to find Shang Mingbao.

Indeed, Shang Mingbao was still at the scorpion tail banana plant and had not left the group. Hui Wen sighed in relief, not noticing the two stains on her light-colored quick-dry pants at the knees.

“Did you finish filming?” Essie asked. “So soon?”

“No, Xiang Bo reminded me that there are two animal trails here,” Hui Wen said with a smile. “His memory is really good; there would have been about twenty infrared cameras there that night.”

“What animal trails?” Essie asked, confused.

“Paths made by carnivores.”

The eerie and oppressive silence of the forest was unsettling enough. The thought of cold eyes potentially lurking behind the forest made Essie shudder, and her hair stood on end.

Hui Wen waved her hand, “It’s fine; we have many people. Animals are more likely to avoid us. Just don’t wander too far.”

Although she said that, after lunch, when a giant python was seen swimming in the green, calm river, everyone remained silent for a full half-minute.

Essie whispered, “Have you ever seen a python this thick?”

Shang Mingbao casually cleared the storage card. “Yes, in Sri Lanka.”

Essie replied, “I stand corrected, sister.”

Pythons are rarely seen, but other small animals frequently visited. Along the way, they saw tree frogs, lizards, brightly colored venomous snakes, and large butterflies.

Having previously experienced the terrors of the rainforest, everyone remained unfazed. It wasn’t until they had to cross the mountain leech trail that there was a small commotion.

The photography assistant carrying the tripod lagged behind, panting, and said, “I’ve walked this line five times, and those leeches are the worst.”

He was chatting with Shang Mingbao, asking, “Did you tighten your pants?”

Shang Mingbao nodded.

“Other animals, no matter how venomous, are scared of people and know to avoid us. Only those things are attracted by human scent,” said the assistant, stopping, sweat pouring down, lifting his soaked T-shirt to fan himself. “They’re like they’re high from the smell of people.”

Essie quickly bent down and pulled her mountaineering socks up higher.

“It’s useless; it’s just a psychological comfort. Once we get past this section, we’ll need to properly remove them.”

He referred to removing leeches as “taking them off.”

The team had already entered the path lined with herbs and shrubs.

Upon reaching the clearing in the forest, in the tranquil orchid area, the team took a short break and checked their pants.

With protection in place, it wasn’t so scary, and it was not uncommon for someone to get bitten.

Xiang Feiran and the consultant stood together, discussing the strangler fig to be filmed the next day. Suddenly, a voice called out, “Xiang Bo”—

Fu Yu pointed to his leg, “Leech.”

Xiang Feiran looked down to see a black leech jumping up his quick-dry pants. Xiang Feiran remained expressionless, bent down, and removed it.

“There’s another one,” Fu Yu reminded. Seeing he hadn’t found it, she squatted down and helped him remove the remaining leech.

She wasn’t afraid, holding the leech between her fingers without blinking. “It would be troublesome if it started sucking.”

Xiang Feiran was momentarily stunned and said, “Thank you.”

He glanced at her calf, “There.”

Fu Yu tilted her head, flicked it away with her fingers, and smiled, “I’ve just removed a dozen of them.”

Xiang Feiran curled his lips, “Very brave.”

The feeling of a leech’s mouthparts piercing the skin is painful, like a needle prick, but not intense. In the rainforest, the sticky, needle-like irritation on the skin was ever-present, but Shang Mingbao hadn’t noticed.

She kept her head down, as if she hadn’t seen the scene of their interaction in the forest clearing or heard Xiang Feiran’s “very brave” remark, which could be seen as a compliment to either the younger or the girl.

Finally, they arrived at their resting place. Shang Mingbao did not approach the circle where the director’s team was but stopped at the periphery where the staff were. Someone offered her a seat, allowing her to sit on a large, horizontal piece of rotting wood.

People around chatted while some smoked. Shang Mingbao quietly unfastened her Gao Bang hiking boots. When she saw the uneven black spots on her white socks, her heart skipped a beat, and she almost fainted.

She didn’t scream, not wanting to appear delicate, trying to be brave even though he hadn’t noticed her at all.

On the other hand, Essie nearly passed out. Shang Mingbao’s soft “Don’t scream” stopped Essie’s scream in her throat. Essie could only pinch her philtrum hard and exclaimed, “Why are there so many?!”

The assistant photographer, who had been traveling with them, squatted down and said, “I’ll help you, before they burrow into your skin.”

Shang Mingbao and he each handled one side. The cold, slippery sensation of the soft-bodied creatures twisted at their fingertips as if elastic.

“Did you spray some perfume?” The assistant photographer felt uneasy too but was determined to show off, even if it meant paying the price.

Unable to figure it out, he noticed the bloodstains on Shang Mingbao’s palms. “Are you injured?”

Shang Mingbao was taken aback and turned her hands over—on her delicate palms, there were red streaks of wounds. It didn’t hurt; it was just scratches, but the slight smell of blood was enough to drive those disgusting creatures crazy.

“I just tripped,” Shang Mingbao replied softly, focusing on her palms without daring to look up.

She was also very brave, but he wasn’t looking.

The assistant photographer asked, “Do you have any other injuries?”

Shang Mingbao shook her head. “No.”

“Check again. Roll up your pants, look at your waist, arms.”

The consultant was talking about the chaotic situation of wild orchid poaching in the area, his lips moving with indignation, but Xiang Feiran didn’t hear a word.

Through the shifting crowd, only Shang Mingbao’s side profile could be seen. She was sitting on a moss-covered, waterlogged dead tree, sorting her shoes and socks. Next to her was a stranger. With so many people in the film crew, Xiang Feiran hadn’t noticed him before, but the sight of him squatting next to her was both glaring and familiar.

He had once squatted in front of her, concerned about whether she had twisted her ankle, if she still had any strength left, and patiently removing the burrs from her pants.

After a break, they headed back from another direction.

Shang Mingbao continued to shoot patiently, focusing on each flower and leaf, observing their unique inflorescence and corolla structures, and appreciating nature’s unorthodox color combinations. The trickle of blood on her leg was not ignored, but she thought it was just excessive sweat—whose clothes aren’t wet and dry and wet again?

As they were about to leave the forest, the air finally started to flow, and the huge canopy and banana leaves above became sparser. Shang Mingbao sighed in relief, only to hear Essie trembling, “Babe, what happened?”

Shang Mingbao looked back, and Essie pointed at her ankle. “Your socks… why is there blood all over them?”

Essie had never been in the wild before. What started with excitement in the morning had turned into a heart-thumping day, with countless shocks, and even a tree frog landing on her shoulder could make her jump. Seeing blood suddenly, she forgot to keep quiet, and everyone turned to look.

Shang Mingbao lifted her pant leg and saw the white sock stained with blood. She was a bit dazed. Her first reaction was to check the dates, ruling out menstruation.

She raised her face, smiled at everyone, and said, “I might have scratched it somewhere. It’s nothing; I don’t feel anything.”

The team resumed walking, but not long after, Xiang Feiran, who was in the middle of the group, abruptly stopped. As if realizing something, his face changed suddenly, and his cold demeanor turned back.

His steps couldn’t be described as just hurried; they were urgent and slightly chaotic.

Everyone stopped and looked at him in confusion until he stopped in front of Shang Mingbao.

This was the first time he spoke to her today. Under everyone’s gaze, Shang Mingbao felt nervous and her legs felt weak.

Why did his eyes show a hint of pain?

“Have you checked for leeches?” Xiang Feiran asked sternly.

“Huh?” Shang Mingbao blinked and replied obediently, “I checked.”

Following the assistant photographer’s instructions, she and Essie had thoroughly checked from head to toe, but given the limited conditions, they couldn’t check publicly by undressing.

“Stand still.”

He said coldly, his steady tone tinged with emptiness, as he crouched down and lifted the blood-stained pant leg—

On her slender white calf, red liquid was winding, and as she walked, the quick-drying pants rubbed against her skin, spreading the blood into a smudged mess.

His heartbeat quickened, and his fingers trembled. Xiang Feiran couldn’t believe it, feeling as if the blood vessels in his arms had drained: “Shang Mingbao, are you an idiot?”