Chapter 106

“Nepalese police reported on November 9th local time that due to geological activity and continuous heavy rainfall, several regions in Nepal experienced landslides, road collapses, and other related incidents. As of the evening of the 9th, the disaster had resulted in 3 deaths and 9 people missing. The situation is still under investigation and assessment. The Nepalese meteorological department noted that this unusual winter rainfall will continue in the Lumbini and Chitwan regions, and relevant departments should be prepared…”

This is a beautiful country with stunning landscapes, but it is also frequently plagued by geological disasters. Although it is known as a Buddhist country at the foot of the Himalayas, the sacred Buddhas cannot hear or look after every incense-burning prayer in the human world.

Such disasters occur every monsoon season, and being in a distant country, even on professional news websites filled with various important news and current events, this would only occupy a small, inconspicuous corner.

–

“He told me, ‘Don’t stay up late, wait for me to come back.’ I asked him what I should wait for when he comes back, but he didn’t reply.”

Her eyes were sore and strained from drawing all day. Shang Mingbao put down her pencil and massaged the pressure points on both sides of her nose, hoping that when she opened her eyes again, she would have Xiang Feiran’s reply.

In the primitive village with no electricity, the signal was cut off so silently, without even a spark. Only the signal bars on the screen suddenly went from 3G to blank.

The rain was so loud that the entire jungle became a giant echo chamber. Narayan had to shout to be heard: “The signal tower must have malfunctioned! The rain is too heavy!”

What did she reply? Xiang Feiran didn’t know; he only saw the chat box showing “The other party is typing.” What she was typing, he had no idea.

“Give me the satellite phone,” he asked Narayan.

“No signal,” Narayan shouted, banging the heavy communication tool in his palm. “I just tried it, outside, walked all around in every direction. Based on my experience, maybe after another half hour it’ll be better.”

Rainwater seeped through the thatched roof and dripped into the campfire.

The monk finished kneading the tsampa, lifted his robe at the knees, held the prayer beads between his fingers, and with his right hand holding the prayer wheel, closed his eyes and began chanting.

“Let me see,” Essie leaned over, “It really is abrupt and incomplete. Did the profile picture trick work?”

“I already changed it back a while ago,” Shang Mingbao tapped her profile picture.

“Maybe he happened to be up late at night too, and saw you changing it back and forth, thinking to himself, ‘Woman, playing these games with me?’ while sneering.”

Shang Mingbao sincerely said, “I think you’re really old-fashioned, even more than me.”

Essie patted her shoulder, “Don’t worry, he’ll definitely contact you. If he really waits until he gets back to the country to deal with you, then sis will admit he has patience…”

“He really might wait until he’s back in the country to contact me,” Shang Mingbao propped her chin in her hands, her heart pounding with a strong premonition. “And maybe it will be a real answer.”

She believed this so firmly, envisioned it so vividly, that she got through that night and all of November 9th. Her inspiration flowed like a fountain, her lines were light and graceful, tropical flowers blossomed into lively art jewelry under her pen. She was in such a good mood that she almost wanted to dance barefoot on the field ridges with the scarecrow. She hummed a song with everything she did, singing “Your Happiness is My Happiness,” flitting about the white villa like a butterfly—

Until Essie stood in the doorway of the studio, her face ashen.

Shang Mingbao glanced up, not paying much attention, thinking the light made her face look pale.

“I need to finish this draft, you should rest first.”

There was no response.

After drawing a few more lines, Shang Mingbao absentmindedly looked up again and froze for a moment. “Why are you still standing there? You scared me! Are you trying to play ghost?”

Her tone was still light.

Essie’s lips moved, but she couldn’t make a sound.

She looked strange—her eyes were blank, her lips moved silently, and her face was full of anxiety and fear, but her voice seemed to have disappeared. Shang Mingbao couldn’t help but put down her pen and asked with concern, “What’s wrong? Tell me, maybe I can help?”

“Twitter… did you check Twitter?” Essie said as she peeled herself away from the doorframe, her steps unsteady. With each step closer to Shang Mingbao, her eyes filled with more fear.

Shang Mingbao still didn’t understand, so she gave a half-hearted laugh. Her first thought was that maybe one of her older siblings was trending again? Or perhaps the company was facing some kind of PR crisis? It couldn’t be that some idol had fallen from grace; she didn’t have any favorites at the moment.

“Let me check.” Shang Mingbao smiled, searching the drawing table until she found what she was looking for under two sheets of paper. “What could it be? Why are you so scared? Did some well-known person pass away again?”

In recent years, people were always bidding farewell to memories on social media.

After a brief splash screen ad, the trending topic that Essie had just seen had already exploded in popularity.

Thanks to the massive traffic brought by those two variety shows, the name “Xiang Feiran” was now trending.

Shang Mingbao’s head buzzed, her vision lagging behind her awareness as a metallic ringing filled her ears—her hands and feet were already cold, but her eyes seemed to just now recognize his name.

“Feiran-ge…” Shang Mingbao’s lips twitched into a forced smile, her face plastered with an expression as fake as the powder on her face, detached from her actual feelings. “Why is he trending again?”

The last time was for the band show back in September.

Oh, right, that wasn’t too long ago…

Why were her fingers trembling as she clicked?

She clicked on the tag, but there was no official topic host, only several popular posts:

“I heard Dr. Xiang Feiran is also in Nepal, right in the hardest-hit area of Chitwan last night.”

Over 5,000 comments followed:

“What does this mean?”

“If you have something to say, just say it—don’t exploit this kind of traffic, okay?”

“How dare you spread hearsay like this?”

“Retweets over 500 will get you in trouble, you’re already past 10,000—ready to write your last words?”

Shang Mingbao couldn’t sit still. She felt as if the stable chair she was in was spinning her world around. The draft she had just carefully drawn was now crumpled in her hand. She closed her eyes tightly. “What does that mean? What happened in Nepal?”

An inconspicuous small country, an inconspicuous disaster, not even enough to arouse the international community’s humanitarian aid. If Xiang Feiran hadn’t trended, not many Chinese people would have noticed the heavy rain there.

The social media plaza was chaotic, and Shang Mingbao forced herself to read through the black text, fighting off the dizziness and nausea that threatened to overwhelm her:

Some media outlets reported:

“A reporter tried to contact the Chinese Academy of Sciences’ East Province Botanical Garden Research Institute but did not receive any confirmed information.”

“According to an anonymous source, Dr. Xiang Feiran was indeed conducting related research in Nepal recently, but there has been no contact with him at this time.”

“Nepalese police have announced that among the 25 dead and missing, there are no Chinese citizens.”

But these ambiguous official statements could not refute the implications of that trending post.

Every second, there were dozens of new updates:

“No, my virtual boyfriend… This is fake news, right?”

“Here we go again—when will Chinese netizens ever learn? Can’t you wait for the official statement?”

“Can we please get an official denial…?”

“So tragic, a brilliant scholar and ‘candle’ at the age of thirty-two.”

“He was taken too soon—’candle.'”

“Is this time God asking for a botanical garden? ‘Candle.'”

“I can’t believe it—two months ago, he was still coolly playing drums on stage, urging everyone to pay more attention to biodiversity conservation…”

“Fate is fickle—this world increasingly feels like a game full of bugs.”

Shang Mingbao locked her phone, bracing herself against the table as she struggled to breathe. She instructed Essie, “Get Sophie here, and do whatever it takes to contact someone from the botanical garden, in my name.”

Essie was overwhelmed, immediately dialing the most direct contacts she had, pressing the phone to her right ear while rushing across the hall to grab the house phone off the wall, holding it to her left ear.

Sophie came running, her expression already heavy even though she didn’t yet know what was happening. Before she could ask, Shang Mingbao, still with her eyes closed, spoke each word with effort, “Use any means necessary to contact the Chinese embassy in Nepal, find the best commercial rescue team, and have them enter Nepal immediately.”

She was already at the point where she needed to take a breath after every half sentence.

Finally, she made a call to her eldest brother, Shang Shao: “Brother, I need to borrow the private jet for a trip.”

The Shang family originally had two Gulfstream business jets, but due to high carbon emissions, the global business trips were mostly handled by Shang Shao in recent years, so the other one was sold off. Shang Shao, detecting the unusual tone in her voice, didn’t hang up immediately and asked, “What happened?”

“Feiran-ge…” Shang Mingbao fought back the tears that were about to fall. The stiff draft paper had already been soaked with the cold sweat in her palms. “He’s in danger in Nepal. I need to get there.”

Impossible. It can’t be true.

Everything on that trending page was false.

After a geological disaster, there is an internationally recognized 72-hour golden rescue window. Even if the landslide occurred last night, it’s still been less than 24 hours—there’s still time.

Two hours later, the Bentley arrived at Ning City International Airport’s private jet terminal from the outskirts. The Gulfstream 550 sped down the runway and ascended into the overcast sky.

At the same time, the Botanical Garden Research Institute issued an official announcement confirming the news about Xiang Feiran in the Chitwan disaster area:

“Researcher Xiang Feiran officially entered the Chitwan National Forest Park for fieldwork on November 4. We have not yet been able to contact him. Please refrain from speculation and spreading rumors.”

“Dad!”

An Audi stopped at the mountain house, still with the engine running and lights on, illuminating the hurried figure climbing the steps.

“Qiucheng?” Xiang Lianqiao heard the voice, put down the book in his hand, and closed it on his lap. “Why are you here so late at night?”

Xiang Qiucheng squatted in front of his wheelchair, her brow furrowed but making an effort to force a smile: “I drove by and thought I might as well come see you.”

Xiang Lianqiao took off his reading glasses and squinted to see his daughter’s face more clearly: “You look unwell. Did you encounter something troubling again?”

Xiang Qiucheng tightened her grip on the wheelchair’s handles, her lips trembling but still smiling: “No, just the usual troubles. It’s nothing serious.”

“Did the phone ring a lot tonight? Xiao Guan, were you looking for me?”

Assistant Guan responded with a normal expression: “No, old leader. It was a personal matter.”

“Oh.” Xiang Lianqiao nodded. “You all keep managing me, checking the news before I see it. Don’t think I don’t know.”

“Alright, Dad,” Xiang Qiucheng held his aging hand, “There’s no such thing. The doctor said you need to rest your eyes. It’s late, and reading is not good for you. I’ll help you to bed.”

Accustomed to big events, Xiang Lianqiao’s heart sank with the coldness in his daughter’s touch. He tried to see the contents in her eyes: “Qiucheng, your hands are so cold?”

Xiang Qiucheng laughed: “I’m over fifty. I don’t have the vitality of a young girl.”

Xiang Lianqiao then held her hand, providing slow warmth: “Nannan, you’re over fifty now.”

He nodded.

Xiang Qiucheng pushed his wheelchair into the elevator, suddenly hearing him ask: “Feiran should be coming back in a few days, right?”

There was silence behind him for a moment before Xiang Qiucheng answered: “Is that so? I’m not sure. I’ll ask Suining later. They have a close sibling relationship.”

Outside the elevator, under the light and the sound of crickets, a cricket jumped onto Xiang Lianqiao’s knee, covered by a woolen blanket.

“Oh?” Xiang Lianqiao opened his palm, and the cricket jumped onto his red-and-white hand: “It’s winter, and you’re rare. Try to survive the winter.”

The cricket didn’t respond, staying in his palm for a while before jumping away.

With Assistant Guan’s help, Xiang Qiucheng assisted him into bed, chattering: “It’s November now. The weather is unpredictable. You can’t kick off the covers at night, or we’ll be scolded by the doctor again.”

Xiang Lianqiao closed his eyes, his breath lengthening. In the fleeting dreams before falling asleep, the green cricket lingered.

After the lights went out and the door was closed, Xiang Qiucheng stood by the door for a moment, silent, and then went downstairs with Assistant Guan. Aunt Lan, Uncle Zhao, a maid, and a caregiver were already in the living room, all looking at Xiang Qiucheng. They didn’t speak, and Aunt Lan’s eyes were very red.

“No matter the outcome, he must not know,” Xiang Qiucheng issued a strict order.

Assistant Guan walked a few steps with her to the car and listened to her ask: “What did the embassy say?”

“They’ve already sent a rescue team,” Assistant Guan replied, “I’ve made arrangements for all information to come through me first.”

Xiang Qiucheng sat in the car, gripping the steering wheel for a while. Soon after, she received a call from Suining. He began with “Mom,” his voice already breaking into tears, filled with confusion and fear, like a child.

A huge change shattered the facade of every adult who thought they were already competent.

“Don’t cry, Suining,” Xiang Qiucheng wiped away the tears with her palm, “If possible, come back.”

“I’m going to Nepal!”

“Why are you going there? Don’t be foolish. Come back and keep Grandpa company. Don’t let him worry about Feiran all the time.”

Tears overflowed from Suining’s eyes as he spoke on speakerphone while buying the earliest flight ticket he could find: “He won’t be in trouble. Disasters last for generations, you know. And he’s so capable…”

The Audi descended the mountain, and the headlights met the ascending Cullinan. Both vehicles stopped, silent, like two beasts facing each other. After a moment, the Audi’s door closed first.

In the white light, Xiang Qiucheng stood facing Xiang Weishan.

“If you dare tell Dad, I’ll never forgive you in this lifetime,” Xiang Qiucheng said firmly, her voice coming out between gritted teeth.

“Qiucheng, do you take me for an animal?” Xiang Weishan’s hand rested on the buzzing engine hood. “Feiran is my son, and Dad is also my father.”

“Think carefully about what to do. If…” Xiang Qiucheng couldn’t finish, her throat choked with tears.

No one dared to think further about this “if”—

If Xiang Feiran really had an accident, it would take Xiang Lianqiao with him.

“Let Dad sleep. Don’t look for him again. He’ll notice.”

Before leaving, Xiang Qiucheng handed Xiang Weishan the contact information for the embassy.

That night, following the Gulfstream private jet, another private jet, also heading for Pokhara, took off.

“I’ve already asked the station to lower the heat,” Essie had been making calls non-stop since boarding—using her own connections, those given to her by Shang Mingbao, and every available resource.

Xiang Feiran’s name no longer appeared in the entries, but if searched manually, news of his presumed death still appeared continuously. Countless people flocked to the United Nations, watch brands, and band program official Weibo accounts, inquiring whether the news was true.

“The Nepal police and embassy rescue teams have entered the forested area. This is the last set of latitude and longitude coordinates they sent out, which I have synced with the rescue team,” Sophie shared the cold, impersonal string of letters and numbers with Shang Mingbao. “Miss, fortune favors the prepared. You’re almost there…”

Shang Mingbao buried her face in her hands, tears dripping onto the carpet, one by one.

A warm object was pressed into her damp palms—Sophie’s ever-present cross. Shang Mingbao’s fingers explored the patterns and the image of Jesus on it.

“It will definitely be on time.” Shang Mingbao took a deep breath and smiled. “If he hadn’t participated in the show, he wouldn’t have made the hot search, and he wouldn’t have gone to that documentary. We wouldn’t have talked so soon, and I wouldn’t have known he was in danger—see, everything is destined, just right, no mistakes, perfectly aligned—since it’s aligned, it means I’m meant to find him and save him.”

She took another deep breath. “No crying, no crying. I still have a lot to do. This isn’t the time to cry.”

Shang Yuye and Wen Youyi called, presumably after hearing the news from Shang Shao. Another international professional rescue team hired by the group had already flown by helicopter into Nepal.

“Babe, it’s still raining there,” Shang Yuye’s voice was steady.

Dad doesn’t agree with you putting yourself at risk.

After a moment of silence, he said, “The first priority is to protect yourself.”

“I know.”

Four hours later, the Gulfstream jet landed at Pokhara’s small, dilapidated airport. The helicopter’s rotor blades had already sliced through the rain. The woman at the front rushed down the gangway and ran across the illuminated clearing in the wind.

The rain fell like knives. A team member at the red-painted helicopter door grabbed the hand offered to him and helped her climb into the cabin as quickly as possible.

Essie and Sophie followed, along with two bodyguards. With everyone gathered, the helicopter took off amidst the rain and mist, heading straight for Chitwan.

“Our team has already entered. There are too many landslides and collapses. We need time for rescue. The rain is heavy, and visibility is poor, so we can’t risk going in too deep. I’ll drop you in a wide valley,” the rescue team member explained in concise, fluent English.

Pokhara’s altitude was already high, and after takeoff, the cabin heated up. The aircraft swayed with the mountainous terrain, causing Sophie and Essie to turn pale and vomit. Shang Mingbao restrained her stomach and throat from churning. “I must go in!”

“Ma’am, the interior of the forest is very complex, and landslides could happen again at any time!” The rescue team member, stern-faced, shouted over the noise inside the cabin. “I am entrusted by your group to prioritize your safety!”

“I can do it,” Shang Mingbao said firmly.

With a thud, a helmet, reflective life jacket, cotton jacket, and raincoat were thrown in front of her, as if anticipating her response, prepared by the rescue team in advance.

“Put these on. If your condition is not right, I will arrange for team members to forcibly evacuate you.”

According to the original plan, Sophie, being elderly, would stay in a stable area with signal reception to maintain contact with all parties, while Essie would accompany her into the forest. However, Shang Mingbao changed the plan and had Essie stay in the jeep. “This isn’t your job. Keep my phone and handle any calls for me.”

The swollen Napudi River had turned into boiling water due to the heavy rain. In the dark, only the helicopter’s searchlights, the jeep’s headlights, the team’s headlamps, and handheld outdoor spotlights intersected and mixed, accompanied by the rustling sounds of rescue dogs moving through the bushes.

It will be on time.

It will be on time.

You know, she couldn’t think of anything else, no hint of pessimism. Despite the chaos outside, her mind was silent. Heaven had already given her a sign. If it weren’t for the hot search, she might have been just the one informed, with life or death already decided. But now, Heaven wanted her to be the one actively involved, to be the one to save her beloved.

The rescue operation continued all night.

Rescue efforts during the heavy rain were extremely inefficient. The rainwater had destroyed too many scents, and the clothing of Xiang Feiran—that jacket Shang Mingbao had taken from his dormitory during the cold wave—was the only item still carrying his scent. It was repeatedly sniffed and confirmed by the rescue dogs.

That night, they uncovered a corpse and rescued a dying monk. The body’s identity was hard to confirm, but it was recognized as a local and was transported to the Nepalese authorities.

By 7 AM, with daylight brightening and the rain and mist temporarily dispersing, Shang Mingbao’s shoes were filled with water and splattered with mud, each step feeling like lead.

“Did we search in the wrong place?” Her pale face showed no extra expression, only her lips moving.

An endless anxiety spread from her heart.

The rescue team insisted that, according to the last coordinates, it was in this area. But the damage was too extensive, making it like finding a needle in a haystack.

At 3 PM, as the rescue continued along the river, the rain began to fall again. A series of dog barks caught everyone’s attention.

“There!”

The rescue dogs were digging through the mud and debris, barking anxiously to signal that there was someone underneath.

Shang Mingbao ran and stumbled over to the landslide site where a green tent was partially exposed but buried under rocks and dirt. A huge Bodhi tree lay on top, making the scene distressing.

“Feiran, Feiran…” Shang Mingbao’s teeth chattered, and her voice cracked and became hoarse, but she was unaware.

Amidst the urgent and increasingly frantic barking of dogs, there was a faint sound of something tapping against the rock.

Shang Mingbao’s eyes were the brightest things there, “Feiran—brother!” It seemed like calling his name was all she had left, “I’ve come to save you… I’ve come to save you! Hold on, hold on… It’s me, I’m here to save you…”

Her hands, which had been tirelessly digging and moving rocks since last night, with gloves worn and damaged, were now starting to dig and move again.

“Hang in there, okay? You said you’d come back, and I came to find you. You haven’t told me yet—”

“I don’t love you…”

A hoarse and weak voice seeped through the cracks of mud and rock.

Shang Mingbao’s heart suddenly stopped, her eyes widened, and her hands, digging through the soil, began to tremble uncontrollably.

“I don’t love you. Listen carefully…”

“I don’t believe it! What nonsense are you talking about! Do you think that because you’re dying, you can say this to me?!” Shang Mingbao shouted angrily, tears burning her face, “Do you think you’re so noble! So selfless! Let me tell you, I don’t believe a word of it! If you have the guts, come out and tell me face to face! Whether you’ve broken an arm or a leg! Even if both your legs are broken! Even if you’re paralyzed for the rest of your life, I still want you! If you dare to give up… if you dare to give up, I’ll never forgive you on Qingming Festival every year!”

“Keep talking to him!” shouted the rescue team, “Keep him engaged! Maintain his attention!”

“You… Feiran, you have no right to tell me you don’t love me. Do you think that by saying this before you die, you’ll make me leave, make me live my life without burden? Dream on! Coward! Always talking to yourself, coward! I don’t need you to plan for me! Let me tell you, if you don’t come out…” She choked on her words but didn’t stop, “If you don’t come out alive, I won’t live a single day of my life well! I’m only twenty-seven, do you want me to suffer for sixty or seventy years because of you?!”

Rubble and tree roots were continuously cleared away.

The rain intensified again. Shang Mingbao took off her gloves, wiped the rain from her face fiercely, and her five fingers left blurred bloodstains on the gravel.

“You promised me you’d come back, don’t think that doesn’t count. You love me, I tell you, you love me. You love me to death. If it were me inside and you outside today, you wouldn’t give up on me. But I will never, ever say I don’t love you. I love you, loved you at sixteen, loved you at nineteen, always dreamed of marrying you. I still keep every gift you gave me, do you remember the Christmas tree and gingerbread ornaments bought at the Columbia Cirque? I’m sorry, I was the one who let down our beautiful beginning. Give me a chance, please, give me a chance, okay? My beautiful gentian is about to bloom, it’s a gift for you and your mother, please, just take a look…”

“Continue!”

Everything around her was racing against time, competing with death.

“Feiran, there’s no one else in my life. If you dare to give up and die here today, I will remain a widow for the rest of my life for you! Think of Grandpa, how can Grandpa bear the pain of you leaving? If you… if you really don’t love me, and that’s your true feeling, then come out and tell me so I can at least slap you once. Eleven years, I’ve liked you for eleven years, I want to marry you, I want to see what real marriage is like, I want to wear a wedding dress for you, I want to see what you look like old. I will never argue with you again, I won’t be willful. Without you, I can’t explore the wild, without you, I can’t see the world. Come out and love me, come out and give me an answer, come out and hug me, come out and kiss me…”

The love she had forgotten to express with effort over the past year and a half—no, over the past three and a half years—poured out uncontrollably in this moment, in a foreign land’s disaster-stricken forest.

She didn’t need to think, or to phrase it, only instinct.

She talked about how many children they would have, whether they would be boys or girls, where they would vacation each year, how to better care for Grandpa, her longing for him every day, how every time she saw him she was breathless at his handsomeness…

The barking of dogs grew more intense, and a beam of light from the rainclouds met the darkness under the ruins.

“There’s still a pulse!”

The person, who was clearly exhausted, miraculously stood up from kneeling, “Feiran, Feiran…”

Her blood and warmth were instantly drained by the rain.

Who is this person inside?

Shang Mingbao staggered, her vision blurry with black and white shadows.

His body was nearly folded in half, his shoulder stained with blood, his pale face covered in mud, then washed clean by the rain that followed.

The last layer of debris was removed, a stretcher was on standby, and two team members moved forward to carry him out.

This was a hiker who had come out to traverse the forest with his girlfriend.

Shang Mingbao was bumped by someone but did not react at all.

The person… was still conscious. His lips murmured as if wanting to speak, his dilated pupils trying to look at her.

Shang Mingbao didn’t step forward.

A team member who spoke Chinese pressed his ear close, carefully distinguishing, then relayed to his employer, “He says your love saved him.”

“Ha.” Shang Mingbao let out a laugh, tears rolling down her face, her body swaying, “Ha-ha, ha-ha…”

Her love saved him… her love saved him, saved a stranger from China.

Then who will save her Feiran? Who will save her Feiran?

The white rain poured down from the dense, light gray clouds overhead, piercing her upturned face, piercing her eyes.

I don’t want to save a stranger; I want to save Brother Feiran. Why, why…

The sudden and extinguished hope crushed Shang Mingbao. Her breathing came in ragged, labored gasps, tearing through her chest and piercing her nasal passages.

The cries coming from her torn vocal cords couldn’t pierce through the jungle nor reach the sky.

She opened her mouth wide, seeing nothing—no rain, no hope, no despair, no light, and no darkness.