Chapter 57

Sleeping through the night accompanied by the rumbling stream, Shang Mingbao naturally woke up in the misty morning.

Her first reaction was that it was raining because the sound of the mountain stream resembled heavy rain, but when she drew the curtains, she saw the mist on the glass and immediately knew it was a clear day.

Shang Mingbao had thought she would have trouble sleeping and had secretly prepared melatonin in her bag, but she never used it. She slept very well, from dusk until dawn. While brushing her teeth, instead of staying in the bathroom, she pushed open the window and leaned on the windowsill, watching the waterwheel while brushing.

Wang Mu was coming down the shortcut from the opposite hillside, and it looked like her basket contained some pine branches. Seeing Shang Mingbao, she waved and smiled, “Good morning!”

Shang Mingbao, with a toothbrush in her mouth, waved back vigorously, “Morning—ah.”

The toothbrush fell from her mouth and into the stream, disappearing in the waves.

Shang Mingbao stared blankly for two seconds, then laughed non-stop, leaning on the windowsill.

Breakfast consisted of barley cakes and butter tea. The freshly baked barley cakes were thick and soft; though they had no particular flavor, they were best described as fragrant. Shang Mingbao tore off two pieces with her hands and found the taste delightful. Compared to the delicate dishes she usually had for three meals a day, this was the coarsest food she had ever eaten. She couldn’t help but take a photo and post it in her siblings’ group chat.

The five siblings of the Shang family had their own small group, created by Shang Mingbao, called “Family Wealth.” The eldest brother, Shang Shao, rarely spoke in it, and younger brother Shang Lu used to chat but had been absent for the past year. So now, the lively chat was only among the three sisters.

At this time, while most people might just be waking up or still sleeping, the eldest sister Shang Mingxian was already conducting a survey of the hotel’s buffet breakfast. Seeing the photo, she asked, “What is this?”

Shang Mingbao replied, “Barley cake.”

Shang Mingxian posted a related educational screenshot.

Shang Mingxian pondered, “Incredible, I never thought I’d learn something real from babe.”

Shang Mingbao asked, “… What do you mean!”

Shang Mingxian was busy and didn’t chat further, leaving her to play. After a brief inspection, she was about to head to the beach to check out today’s meditation class when she realized the time. It was just past seven? Did this kid wake up so early today?

After breakfast, the three of them got ready to set off.

Because of three consecutive nights of camping, Tashi led a mule to carry their backpacks. The bright yellow saddlebag was strapped to the mule’s strong sides, containing extreme cold sleeping bags, tents, cooking gear, and food and drinking water for the next three days.

“Cheater,” Shang Mingbao muttered quietly.

Xiang Feiran glanced at her, “What did I cheat you on?”

“You said that as your student, I’d have to carry the tent myself. Turns out there’s a mule…”

Xiang Feiran smiled, “So, you really want to be my student?”

“Well, is that not okay?”

Xiang Feiran, with a calm demeanor, said, “It’s a bit difficult to apply for my graduate program with a different major, especially for someone who can drop a toothbrush into the river while brushing.”

Shang Mingbao: “…”

After being stared at by her for two seconds, Xiang Feiran smiled and suddenly leaned forward, getting close to her eyes: “Alright, how about calling me ‘teacher’ first?”

Her teasing made Shang Mingbao shyly retract and refuse to call him.

“What kind of teacher are you…” she mumbled, her face reddening, “just learning and selling what you’ve learned…”

Xiang Feiran, understanding her meaning, leaned closer to her ear and whispered in a tone only she could hear, “So, how do you think I’m doing?”

Shang Mingbao ignored him, clenched her fists, and walked forward.

Despite the mule carrying some of the load, the weight in their backpacks was still significant. Shang Mingbao’s collection work was not very good; Xiang Feiran only assigned her the task of taking photos—using a macro lens to record plant details and a wide-angle lens for habitat shots.

The two lenses and the full-frame DSLR camera weighed almost ten pounds combined. Hanging around her neck, it was not only hard on her cervical spine but also inconvenient for walking and climbing. Xiang Feiran attached a quick-release plate to her backpack’s shoulder straps and a lens holster to her waist. This way, the weight was distributed more evenly and her hands were freed.

Before setting off, Shang Mingbao took a selfie fully geared up, posting photos of barley cakes, the ugly apple with long worms, and her own appearance on Instagram.

This set of photos was completely different from her past life, with no crystal chandeliers, wine glasses, jewels, or red lips—just ordinary, everyday things. Yet, the post received an unusually high number of likes, with fans and friends asking where she was spending her vacation.

They thought she had discovered some new and authentic vacation style.

Wu Baiyan also saw this post but didn’t like it. Dressed in a black jacket, hiking pants, and boots, her appearance was plain with no refined details. The hiking bag’s straps and camera straps were loosely tied around her waist, making her look thin, but there was an air of briskness and determination about her.

Compared to her in high fashion, they were clearly two different people.

Wu Baiyan didn’t understand why the princess in the castle couldn’t stay in the castle. If she wanted to get close to nature, she could hire a team; if she wanted to see the world, she could have a world-class documentary team customize her journey, take her to the sky and the sea; if she wanted to climb mountains or visit national parks, she could hire a professional local guide; if she wanted to camp and spend the night in the wild, she could rent a luxury RV.

Why?

Wu Baiyan refused to ponder this “why,” and thus refused to like the post.

After posting on Instagram, as they entered the mountain trail, the signal immediately disappeared.

Tashi led the mule at the front, Shang Mingbao walked in the middle, and Xiang Feiran brought up the rear. Just like three years ago, her physical stamina had not improved; she started panting after just a kilometer.

Tashi patted the mule, saying, “Don’t worry, if you can’t walk, let the mule carry you.”

Shang Mingbao shook her head vigorously, “No, no, it’ll get tired.”

Tashi, being chatty, laughed, “This mule was prepared for you. If you don’t come, why would Xiang Bo need something like this?”

Tashi was impressed with Xiang Feiran’s physical stamina and energy. He originally thought that apart from those who were professionals in outdoor activities, city people would be weak, demanding rest or riding mules after just a few steps. However, after hosting Xiang Feiran a few times, he found that Xiang Feiran’s pace was even faster than his own. He climbed the mountain without panting, had professional downhill techniques, and could speak evenly for two minutes during voice recordings or consultations with the filming team. Setting up camp, resting, and lighting fires were done with the most efficient processes, clearly summarizing effective experiences from long-term practice.

Moreover, after dark, when everyone else was resting, he was still sorting specimens until two in the morning.

However, Tashi also noticed that Xiang Feiran was not naturally less sleepy; he had simply eliminated meaningless activities and used his time for sleep. For example, while others boasted on the crew’s vehicle, he slept; while others flirted, he slept; while others argued, he slept; while others gossiped, he slept; when others slept, he of course slept; when others sang, he put on headphones and continued sleeping. In short, he seized every moment to sleep.

Tashi’s mule also had a name, called Dalu, and it was very quiet. Sensing Shang Mingbao’s gaze, it lowered its head and silently moved a few steps up the slope, trotting quickly from her side.

Shang Mingbao: “…”

It was afraid of her. She was afraid of it too!

Arguing with animals felt embarrassing, so she turned her head and found fault with Xiang Feiran: “Don’t you believe I can finish this?”

“I do,” Xiang Feiran patted her shoulder, his tone casual and reassuring, “Come on, let’s see if we can reach the slope ahead in half an hour.”

Shang Mingbao glanced at the slope: “…”

It was a challenge.

Xiang Feiran pressed his lips, rubbing her hair: “No rush, no need to show off in front of me. I know your limits.”

Shang Mingbao deliberately asked, “What are my limits?”

In the verdant valley, Xiang Feiran, with his hands in his pockets, looked at her for a few seconds: “Twelve minutes’ worth of limits.”

Shang Mingbao opened her mouth to retort but realized what he meant by “limits,” and, embarrassed and annoyed, turned and walked forward: “I’m ignoring you!”

Tashi: “Teacher Xiang, why does everyone always ignore you?”

Xiang Feiran laughed helplessly: “I’ll reflect on it.”

Climbing against the high mountain stream, surrounded by greenery, it was hard to believe it was March in a high-altitude area.

That night, Shang Mingbao recorded in her field notes:

“Huge fallen trees are everywhere, forming a crucial part of the cold temperate forest ecosystem’s maintenance and succession. Lichens, mosses, rhododendrons, and alpine cypress grow from them, and the hollowed-out tree trunks serve as resting places for squirrels and insects.

Due to the harsh growing conditions, the alpine cypress here stunts into small shrubs, only forty to fifty centimeters tall, exuding a vibrant and endearing charm.”

On the fertile land along the stream, the most common trees are rowan, white and red birch, mountain ash, maple, alpine oak, and willow. Arrow bamboo, which is eaten by giant pandas, grows on the hillsides and among the rocks by the stream.

As you ascend higher, the broadleaf forests are replaced by coniferous forests composed of spruce and fir. Each tree stands tall and straight, reaching toward the sky (Brother Feiran says they can grow to over thirty meters). The branches and needles are covered with light green lichen; Tashi calls it ‘tree beard’ and says it doesn’t grow in polluted environments. (I said it looks like Brother Feiran, and he said I was being silly, insisting he wasn’t that fragile.) Also, this can be eaten as a cold dish, and Tashi promised to have Wangmu prepare it for me when we get down.

Of course, she also noted the name of the long, winding high mountain stream that cascades down from an altitude of over 4,000 meters.

“Did Gulu say that?” Shang Mingbao couldn’t believe it, suspecting that Feiran and Tashi had conspired to trick her. “You’re lying to me.”

“No,” Feiran said, squatting on a rock and picking up a fallen leaf. “It’s true.”

His long fingers were wet with clear stream water, and the dark green pine branch looked particularly vibrant between his fingers.

“Long-bud fir, country number two.”

Shang Mingbao took it in both hands, letting it rest in her palm before storing it in the non-woven fabric pouch used for plants.

When they reached the waterfall, a small rainbow appeared in the sunlight. Beneath the cascading white water, the moss was thick and soft like a mat. The water mist sparkled, and the splashing water droplets fell like pearls.

This was the most grueling day of Shang Mingbao’s life. She had climbed more than a thousand meters in altitude during her menstrual period, yet she didn’t feel tired and was still exhilarated when they reached the camp. Feiran said it was the endorphins bringing her joy.

The camp was set in a high mountain meadow, where spring had not yet arrived. The landscape was entirely yellow, with a plant called boat leaf saxifrage scattered on the edges of the meadow and forest. Before Shang Mingbao could ask, Tashi said, “This can be eaten too.”

Shang Mingbao: “…”

Tashi: “You care most about this.”

Shang Mingbao suddenly remembered that she first became interested in Yunnan province because of a night tour when Feiran told her that the southern mountain vine was poisonous but still eaten by the people of Yunnan.

The seed planted three years ago had long been forgotten. Now it flared up like wildfire—yes, that was when she first became curious about China’s remote provinces and started to care about the land and its people.

Thinking of this, Shang Mingbao suddenly ran up to Feiran and hugged him tightly.

“What’s wrong?” Feiran was almost used to her spontaneous hugs, his expression barely changing, but his voice was low and gentle.

Shang Mingbao shook her head and didn’t answer.

High mountain meadows are always excellent pastures, so the camp was littered with animal dung, densely packed in some places, making it almost impassable. However, Feiran and Tashi reacted calmly.

After being exposed to the wind and sun, most of it had dried out and formed solid gray cakes. Near the shepherd’s hut, where they would camp for the next three nights, Shang Mingbao finally broke down: “Don’t tell me the tent is going to be set up on top of these… these…”

She could barely bring herself to say the word “dung.”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Feiran said nonchalantly.

“…”

Perhaps Shang Mingbao’s disbelief was too obvious. Feiran tried to reason with her: “Cows and horses are raised on grass, so theoretically, this is also grass, just in a different material form.”

Shang Mingbao’s expression went blank: “Shit.”

Feiran nodded: “Indeed.”

… A double entendre.

At Shang Mingbao’s insistence, Feiran and Tashi had to kick the dried dung away with their shoes or collect it into a pile.

Feiran at least wore gloves, while Tashi picked it up with his bare hands, saying: “These are good fire-starting materials. You’ll need them to keep warm at night. In the past winters, when we had no electricity, we used these hard things to start the fire.” He tapped it as he spoke: “See?”

Shang Mingbao crouched on the ground, covering her head, her pupils shocked.

What?! She had lost the ability to discern the truth of Tashi’s statements!

After cleaning for nearly half an hour, they finally cleared a small area large enough for three tents.

Shang Mingbao had already forgotten how to set up the tents and couldn’t help, so she squatted on the ground, watching Feiran set up a tent in the blink of an eye.

“Fix these pegs into the ground, and Tashi and I will go prepare dinner,” Feiran handed her the bag of pegs. “Can you manage this?”

Shang Mingbao nodded repeatedly. Although it was a small task, she worked diligently and felt that she wasn’t entirely useless.

The mule’s pack had been unloaded, and it was grazing. When Shang Mingbao approached, the bell’s ringing stopped—it remained motionless, its eyes fixed.

Both humans and mule were awkward, unsure of what the other intended. Until Shang Mingbao stood half a meter away, extended her arm, and carefully touched its mane.

After touching it, she exclaimed and quickly jumped back.

The mule: “…”

What’s she doing?

Feiran, who had been watching, chuckled and said lazily: “The more nervous you are, the more nervous the animal will be. It doesn’t know what you’re doing and is afraid of you.”

Shang Mingbao pinched her fingertip: “It’s so hard; it looks so soft in cartoons.”

“Then try asking it why its fur isn’t soft at all.”

Shang Mingbao had begun to accept that the world of the Tibetan people operated under a different logic and hesitantly asked, “Can it understand?”

“I say it definitely can’t understand, but you should be able to.”

“Why?”

“Because, as everyone knows, only princesses have the skill to talk to small animals.”

Shang Mingbao pressed her lips together and tilted her small face upward, her large, bright eyes with round, black pupils.

She didn’t realize that, from the perspective of someone as tall as Xiang Feiran, she looked just like a princess from an animated film.

Shang Mingbao hugged him again with both hands, pressing her face against his chest and rubbing it repeatedly.

With her eyes closed, her expression was so affectionate, it was more beautiful than the sunset that had settled in the wilderness.

Xiang Feiran’s hand rested on her temple.

In this tender moment, Shang Mingbao suddenly woke up: “You just picked up cow dung!”

Xiang Feiran: “…”

“Please, Miss,” he said, lifting his hand slightly, lowering his gaze for two seconds, and reasoning, “I was wearing gloves and I washed my hands.”

His fingers were long and elegant, described with the words “refined,” and should not be the kind of hands to be disliked. Moreover, they were so nimble.

Shang Mingbao retreated as if to a light year away: “Don’t touch me until tomorrow!”

Xiang Feiran tilted his chin, smiling with his lips and eyes directly on her: “Alright.”

Given his clear understanding of his cooking skills, Xiang Feiran didn’t involve himself in dinner, only preparing tea.

While they were busy, Shang Mingbao went to wash up by the camp. A small stream, flowing from mountain lake water, was used by the herders, who made a water channel from a partially split tree trunk, for daily use.

The twilight had set in, and the temperature was freezing. After washing her face, Shang Mingbao’s hands were numb from the cold, and she ran back to the wooden house, puffing out the cold air.

The remaining time before darkness fell was spent by the campfire.

Tashi wasn’t lying; the dried yak dung did indeed start a fire, and miraculously, it had no odor. In the red flickering flames, Shang Mingbao held a thermos cup, her gaze extending through the small window of the wooden house.

In the distance, it wasn’t a snowy mountain but frost-covered highlands due to winter, looking like frosting on a cake from afar. The last glimmer of sunset faded across the boundless plains, and the world fell into the whisper of the wind.

When it became quiet, the feeling of being in a deserted place became real—no people, no animals, and no signal. The presence of human civilization had disappeared, and the sense of loneliness was overwhelming.

Shang Mingbao suddenly couldn’t bear to think too much and sat back next to Xiang Feiran, pressing close to him until they finished the meal.

The rice was undercooked in the evening, something Shang Mingbao had learned from textbooks. Experiencing it in person created a strange resonance within her. Tashi mentioned an interesting fact: “Mingbao is better than the previous celebrity.”

When Xiang Feiran came here last year, it was to assist in filming a documentary for a provincial TV station.

It was a project supported by a national fund for biodiversity conservation, including twelve episodes on plants and animals across mountains, highlands, and oceans.

The filming team needed someone to act as a consultant for the plant segment, with a plant taxonomist being the most suitable. They contacted the taxonomist expert, Academician Zhou Yingshu, for a recommendation. Professor Zhou immediately thought of Xiang Feiran, who was in the United States.

“To be on camera, of course, Xiang Feiran is the most suitable,” Professor Zhou joked, “but I don’t know if he’s willing—oh, I forgot to introduce, he was my student and is now pursuing a Ph.D. at Columbia University.”

The fact that Academician Zhou valued him enough to refer to him as a “student” showed his esteem and recognition.

The production team laughed, “He’s just a consultant, no on-camera tasks; can you please ask him?”

Professor Zhou, considering the time difference, personally called Xiang Feiran and also contacted Professor Tryon to schedule Xiang Feiran’s time.

He had a personal interest, hoping Xiang Feiran would return to develop his career in China, rather than obtaining a green card and permanent residency like many overseas talents.

Naturally, for academic work, abroad might suit Xiang Feiran’s personality better, but Professor Zhou was reluctant. Helping him to make some necessary public appearances was a small trick by Academician Zhou.

With his personal intervention, Professor Tryon had no reason to refuse. After discussing two data support projects, he readily agreed.

To enhance the public awareness of biodiversity conservation, the production team invited different celebrity guests to host each episode. For the episode on alpine plants, a very popular female star was chosen. Xiang Feiran didn’t have a deep impression of her, only remembering that the entire recording team stayed in the village, while her team stayed at a luxury resort outside the national park.

Her entourage was substantial, including three assistants and a personal driver, but she was very polite, addressing everyone as “teacher.” She called Tashi “Teacher Tashi” and Wangmu “Teacher Wangmu,” much to their bemusement. However, she was cautious about the tea and dinner prepared by “Teacher Wangmu.”

When the executive manager requested living supplies from the production team, Xiang Feiran was also present.

“Our Teacher Tan started early and is used to being pampered. He has strict requirements for food and accommodation; otherwise, he gets anxious, suffers from asthma, eczema, and depression.”

“Although spending four hours a day going into the mountains is long, the roads are rugged, and safety comes first. If he doesn’t sleep well, he’ll get swollen, which doesn’t look good on camera, and fans will complain.”

“The crew can wait a bit longer; after all, Tan Tan’s condition determines our final results and traffic.”

Xiang Feiran’s impression of the star and her team had faded over time, but with Tashi’s mention, it became clear again—especially in the context of Shang Mingbao.

He was actually prepared for Shang Mingbao to give up halfway, return to the village, or act spoiled and avoid the schedule. But she hadn’t even suggested riding the mule.

Tashi opened the downloaded documentary for Shang Mingbao to watch, particularly highlighting the episode in which he appeared.

Shang Mingbao watched intently and, after a few minutes, asked Xiang Feiran, “Why aren’t you in the footage?”

Xiang Feiran replied, “That’s a different price.”

“…”

In fact, after meeting him in person, the production team regretted it, as his face was clearly a ready-made hot topic. The producer subtly rephrased, saying that the consultant could also appear on camera, but this young man with a striking appearance and indifferent demeanor claimed to have a certain phobia and would become mute in front of the camera.

Tashi added, “Xiang Bo said no, and no amount of persuasion would work. The boss even asked if he should help him set up an account.”

Tashi, with his flushed cheeks, always had a simple yet sly and cheeky demeanor: “Teacher Xiang, you threw away her business card, and I saw it.”

Xiang Feiran didn’t mention that the agent later somehow got his private contact details and persistently tried to persuade him until he was blocked.

“If you debut, you could make a lot of money,” Shang Mingbao said thoughtfully, “With money, you can do what you like.”

Xiang Feiran smiled and casually replied, “Doing what you like doesn’t require money; it only requires heart. If a hobby or interest requires a lot of money to start, it means what you really like is making money; it’s just one way of describing a wealthy life.”

Shang Mingbao felt a shock inside. She wasn’t supposed to be the target audience for Xiang Feiran’s words; she would never lack money, but she understood.

By dusk, the chores had been sorted. After dinner, Tashi went straight to bed, while Shang Mingbao accompanied Xiang Feiran in the work tent to handle specimens.

The process of organizing plant forms, pressing, labeling, and transcribing voice information was long and tedious, but Shang Mingbao didn’t find it tiring. Unknowingly, it was already nine o’clock, and only then did she realize her shoulders ached.

Leaving the tent, the sky was a reversed galaxy, and the wind was chilly. Xiang Feiran paused and looked up for a moment.

Xiang Feiran, tonight’s starry sky, someone is here to look up with you.

Dew had already settled on the tent, dripping silently as it was moved, blending into the meadow below.

“Feiran Gege,” Shang Mingbao called suddenly as she knelt and was about to crawl into her sleeping bag.

Xiang Feiran unzipped his jacket and responded.

“I didn’t cause you any trouble, did I?”

Xiang Feiran didn’t understand why she asked that but answered, “No.”

“Then, did I help a little?”

Xiang Feiran smiled, “Yes, a lot.”

“Then…” Shang Mingbao licked her lips, her face bathed in the cold white light of the tent lantern, with a porcelain glow like moonlight: “In the future, when you go outdoors, take me with you.”

She lifted her eyes, her lashes fluttering like wings: “Don’t go alone, okay?”

If the tremor in his heart was a storm on the Pacific Ocean, no one would believe it because he looked so calm. He tossed his jacket to a corner of the tent, as if very casual, then turned his face, curled his lips, and simply said, “Okay, as long as you don’t find it boring or hard.”

As for someone who had always been solitary in the wild mountains, how he would return to being alone after spending a long time getting used to having another person around, he only thought about it briefly in his heart.

Turning off the light, the starlight shone through the tent’s top.

The two tents were very close. Shang Mingbao leaned close to Xiang Feiran’s ear: “Can Tashi hear us talking?”

“Yes.”

“…”

“But this won’t.”

He lightly touched Shang Mingbao’s chin with two fingers, turning her face towards him, then paused for two seconds before kissing her.

It was a kiss without desire or physical teasing, simply quiet and tender, brushing against her moist, slightly sweet lips without even touching with his tongue.

After a while, Xiang Feiran softly chuckled, “I forgot, I promised this hand wouldn’t touch you.”

His fingertips moved away from Shang Mingbao’s face.

In the silence, the sound of Daru’s bell around his neck could be heard.

Clink, clink. Clink, clink.

Shang Mingbao’s uneven breathing exposed her emotional tide clearly.

After a very quiet moment, the down sleeping bag rustled. Xiang Feiran pressed down on her through the sleeping bag.

“Shang Mingbao.”

Shang Mingbao made a pleasant “mm” sound with her nose, her tone tight.

“How many days will it take to get better?”

Shang Mingbao took a while to understand, her body heating rapidly, feeling as if fresh blood was flowing after changing to a clean cotton tampon.

“Six, six days… still need two more days…” Her voice was like a mosquito.

“Open your eyes, look at me.” Xiang Feiran pushed her eye mask to her forehead, his voice steady.

Shang Mingbao opened her eyes and realized the tent was not dark. There was light enough for them to see each other’s faces up close, enough for her to see the warmth and emotion in his otherwise indifferent eyes.

So calm, so calm it was almost unnoticeable that he had just overturned one of their relationship’s guidelines.

“If I want you, what will you do?”

Shang Mingbao’s eyes blinked in panic. She clearly understood, but it seemed like she didn’t.

She knew he wasn’t talking about now, and that “want” was not the same as before.

Unable to speak any further, she found herself being kissed again by Xiang Feiran. This time, the kiss was fierce and relentless, with his tongue pressing in, gently sweeping her sensitive palate, sucking on her tongue, and nibbling on her lip.

Shang Mingbao sweated in his body heat and the down sleeping bag, her intertwined legs brushing lightly.

Her body, completely unclothed within the sleeping bag, was vibrant and fragrant. Yet, Xiang Feiran’s hands remained still.

Shang Mingbao was nearly in tears from frustration, her head spinning as she spoke words she wouldn’t normally say: “Feiran Gege, you… touch me.”

It was so embarrassing; how could she ask someone like that?

“No, I promised you,” Xiang Feiran replied, his voice hoarse from the heat, but his tone remained calm.

“I’ve changed my mind.”

“Changing your mind doesn’t work.”

“……” Feeling trapped, she called out, “Teacher Xiang, Professor Xiang, Xiang Bo…”

Xiang Feiran’s patience was like someone who had quit a bad habit: “It won’t work.”

Shang Mingbao let out a dejected whimper: “Then get away.”

“Why should I get away?” Xiang Feiran squinted, unzipping one side of her sleeping bag to let out the fragrant, warm air. Then he lowered his head, kissing his way down, stopping just before reaching the place she wanted him to.

“Shang Mingbao,” he paused at such a crucial point and said clearly, “I was serious about what I said earlier. I want you. Think about it.”