Chapter 96

By 8:23, the car was already started, and the engine was buzzing intermittently.

“Uh…”

Before Xiang Feiran could open the car door, Shang Mingbao called out to him.

“I really didn’t know you would be here before I arrived.” She explained earnestly, her gaze unwavering.

“I can see that.”

The car door clicked open and then slammed shut with a thud.

The island’s hot climate meant the air conditioning in the car was turned up high. Once inside, before she could settle her thoughts, a bottle of water was handed to her: “Teacher Xiang.”

Xiang Feiran glanced back and said to the girl named Fu Yu, “It’s cold. I just bought it; the water in the car has been heated by the sun.”

He took the water and thanked her.

“Do you know Teacher Xiaobao?” Fu Yu asked.

“No.”

The topic ended there, and they didn’t continue talking about Shang Mingbao or start any other conversation. Through the intercom, the team leader’s voice came over, asking if the number of people in each car was correct and detailing the route and road conditions.

After getting in the car, Shang Mingbao started to catch up on sleep. It was the peak tourist season, and the highway was congested and stop-and-go. Perhaps due to not resting well before the flight, she finally made it to the next rest stop and found a secluded spot to vomit for a while. She hadn’t eaten much today, so it wasn’t a violent vomiting, just a strong intestinal spasm. Essie brought her a bottle of water and stayed by her side, saying, “I’ll go ask Huiwen if she has any anti-motion sickness patches.”

“No need, it’s not motion sickness,” Shang Mingbao stopped her.

“Is it that you’re too tired? Or did you eat something bad, maybe acute gastritis?”

In Essie’s eyes, Shang Mingbao was probably the most delicate person on earth. She didn’t know what her family background was, but a villa she lived in had eight servants, all dedicated to serving her alone. Her daily meals weren’t from the supermarket but were specially supplied by airplanes and refrigerated trucks. Essie had once checked the inconspicuous blue label and found that the lowest annual fee for this supplier was three million.

Plants in a greenhouse can’t survive in the wild. Those flowers, once wild and vibrant after horticultural domestication, can’t escape death once they enter the wilderness. Essie imagined that every cell in Shang Mingbao’s precious body must be in a state of rebellion right now.

Shang Mingbao took the wet wipes Essie handed her and gave a weak smile: “Don’t underestimate me.”

“You need to know what’s wrong; otherwise, won’t the next few days be ruined?”

After squatting under the blazing sun for a long time, everything spun black when she stood up. Shang Mingbao closed her eyes and paused: “I don’t really know what’s going on.”

She was just… too nervous. Like in high school during physical education class.

Others were enjoying themselves, but she had a heart condition, so she felt out of place. During PE class, she was called ‘princess’ and watched them play tennis in the shade, heard them talk about how well-behaved the horses were in yesterday’s riding, how far their golf shots went, and how they won the sailing hand winch competition. That sense of nausea always followed her during the break before PE class.

When someone she hadn’t seen in a year appeared in front of her, she didn’t know how to handle him, what to say, what expression or gaze to use. She was afraid of being too indifferent, too intense, or having her calm interpreted as letting go, her awkwardness interpreted as unease, her smile seen as frivolous, or her lack of a smile as indifference.

If there were a standard answer, that would be great.

The journey was long, and the WeChat group chat was intermittent. Only two people never spoke, one was him, and the other was her.

When they finally arrived at the village on the edge of the forest, it was over an hour later than originally planned.

This documentary was a massive project, intended to be submitted for a national engineering award. Xiang Feiran was only responsible for the plant-related parts of the on-screen commentary. Before the filming crew officially arrived, a team of ten experts had scouted the location repeatedly, and the shooting routes and content were meticulously planned.

The rainforest conditions were harsh, and the crew carried many large pieces of equipment. For the next five days, they would stay in this village, with only the last two days involving a small 12-kilometer trek through the rainforest for night filming, spending the night on the forest-edge beach.

The village was a minority settlement with boat-shaped houses covered with thatch. Behind the houses, bananas and fragrant guava were planted, and ginger was grown in green brick flower beds, though it had already passed its flowering period.

The sound of cicadas rang from day to night. In the well-ventilated main room, the villagers set up three round tables for reception. The director and the expert guests sat at one table, while the rest of the crew were divided into two tables.

Director Yang made a lively speech, skillfully taking care of past connections. He first mentioned a recent visit to Academician Zhou Yingshu, expressing gratitude for Xiang Feiran’s participation thanks to Zhou’s recommendation, praising Zhou’s dedication to plant taxonomy. He then talked about Professor Li, China’s foremost expert in botany, whose students were numerous, with Fu Yu being one of his most favored students—

After smoothly covering the connections behind each person, he turned to Essie, mentioning a certain leader from the broadcasting industry, only lightly touching on his surname.

Everyone who understood it realized the importance of that leader and felt a bit awkward about not giving Essie enough attention, making the young girl quite embarrassed.

Shang Mingbao ignored these social niceties but could tell that the leader seemed to be of significant importance. She took the opportunity to quietly ask Essie, “Did you have to go through a lot of trouble? Let me know next time, and I can arrange it. You don’t have to be that all-around assistant.”

Essie patted her head and laughed, “It’s okay; he’s my uncle.”

Shang Mingbao’s expression remained unchanged, neither acknowledging the weight of her uncle nor caring about it, simply responding lightly, “Then let Sophie send a thank you gift later.”

Essie thought, better not, a casual gift could really land my uncle in trouble.

No one took Essie’s background seriously as a true assistant, so Shang Mingbao was considered a friend who got in through her. Shang Mingbao didn’t mind; instead, she found the spotlight-free feeling quite comfortable, quietly sipping soup and listening to the flattering talk around the table about how approachable certain celebrities were, which celebrities were divas, the generous gifts given after collaborations, and anecdotes about drinking with certain people…

“Teacher Ke is definitely the most pleasant to deal with,” the production director said.

Shang Mingbao pursed her lips and smiled slightly, sending a message to Ke Yu, asking why her little island brother was involved in such a wide range of work, even participating in documentaries.

Ke Yu and Shang Lu had been in Nepal for a while, filming a movie about Himalayan guardians, with intermittent signal. Shang Mingbao was lucky as they had just descended to Pokhara, so he could reply.

They exchanged messages back and forth. During this, Ke Yu’s phone was briefly taken over by Shang Lu. Shang Mingbao was too absorbed in her playful banter with her little brother to notice that Xiang Feiran had been watching her for quite some time from across the table.

She smiled brightly, genuinely, as if the person on the other end of the phone was growing in the way she liked, saying everything that she found interesting.

As the conversation continued, Ke Yu noticed her unusual behavior: “Why are you so free today?”

She rarely chatted for such a long time on WeChat. After a year of entrepreneurship, she felt like she was immersed in formalin, lost in her work.

Shang Mingbao looked up, her gaze drifting towards Xiang Feiran, who was being toasted, before quickly looking away.

Mingbao: “I’m having dinner, and Brother Feiran is here too.”

Ke Yu: “…How many people?”

Mingbao: “A bunch, more than ten.”

Ke Yu: “How does it feel?”

Mingbao: “Restless, not sure what to do.”

Ke Yu: “Talk to him?”

Mingbao: “He doesn’t notice me, and I’m afraid to disturb him.”

Whether it was the rest stops on the way, the distribution of luggage and rooms upon arrival at the village, or this long, tedious dinner, Xiang Feiran had not spoken to her or even glanced her way.

Regarding this, Ke Yu had some experience to share: “Don’t worry about him, just stick to him.”

Mingbao: “…He’ll get annoyed with me.”

Ke Yu: “Don’t care, Shang Lu was also quite annoying to me back then.”

Mingbao: “Oh, but my little brother is insincere.”

Ke Yu: “How do you know he’s not insincere?”

Mingbao: “Because Brother Feiran is cooler than my little brother.”

Ke Yu: “…Haha.”

After a while.

Ke Yu: “The last message was from your little brother.”

Shang Mingbao, having finished criticizing her brother, locked her phone screen and listened to Director Yang and Xiang Feiran talking.

Director Yang was clearly drunk. He often worked outdoors and was tanned, with a bit of humor.

Xiang Feiran was very fair-skinned.

Shang Mingbao’s gaze unintentionally lingered on him and didn’t move away, her thoughts drifting far. She didn’t think of anything; she just stared quietly and comfortably at his profile.

She didn’t notice when Director Yang’s conversation stopped. When she came back to her senses, her focus had returned—

Xiang Feiran’s gaze met hers in mid-air, expressionless.

The table was full of toasts, and the sea breeze carried the sounds of the tropical rainforest, making the rustling of the trees and the waves seem indistinguishable.

Shang Mingbao was caught off guard, feeling embarrassed as if she had been caught on the spot, and instinctively averted her eyes.

The open, thatch-roofed hall suddenly felt suffocating, making it hard for her to breathe. She said something to Essie, pretending to answer a phone call, and got up to leave the table.

The yard was dark, relying solely on the light from the boat-shaped houses. As she walked farther away, the surroundings grew darker. At the base of the stone wall, a line of green creeping vines swayed gently.

The table was roughly cleared, and employees continued to leave the venue, calling friends to join them for a walk or to grab a couple of beers, with cigarette butts flickering in the darkness.

Fu Yu’s voice was heard: “Teacher Li often mentions you. He and Teacher Tan are from the same school, and he says your scientific illustrations are very beautiful. I’m not sure if you’re still drawing now?”

Fu Yu’s mentor and Tan Shuo Yue were once senior and junior, a point that Fu Yu hadn’t used to initiate a conversation until now. After exchanging a few words with Xiang Feiran at the banquet, Fu Yu felt a bit more familiar. He said, “Teacher Li also asked me to bring a gift from him, but he got busy and forgot, so he asked me to apologize to you and said he’ll make it up to you the next time you’re in Beijing.”

Xiang Feiran’s voice replied, “No need to be formal.”

He continued, “Just call me Teacher Xiang or ‘you’.”

Fu Yu readily agreed: “When I was younger, I bought Teacher Tan’s popular science book about the survival wisdom of alpine plants. There was a painting of a highland lily, and Teacher Tan painted it so beautifully. From her brushwork, I learned how long the lily takes to bloom and how it calmly embraces death after blooming, which deeply moved me. Later, I wanted to become a botanist. But as I studied, I found it very difficult.”

Xiang Feiran seemed to smile slightly: “What direction are you studying now?”

Fu Yu replied, “Nature education. It’s more focused on natural history compared to your cutting-edge research, aimed at public education and telling good stories about plants.”

“That’s very meaningful.”

“I once sent you a letter of recommendation, but you didn’t accept it,” Fu Yu said with a smile.

Xiang Feiran recalled and said, “I don’t remember.”

During admission season, it’s impossible to remember everyone who sent emails, so he indeed might not have a recollection.

“You not taking me in was a lifesaver. Otherwise, I would have been worrying about extending my studies every year, and would have had to go to the rooftop to blow in the cold wind.”

Xiang Feiran laughed softly, “It’s not that serious.”

After a few exchanges, they walked from under the eaves to the gate of the courtyard.

“Teacher Xiang, your inn seems to be in the same direction as mine,” Fu Yu stopped and asked directly, “Shall we go together?”

“I still have some matters to attend to,” Xiang Feiran said lightly, “Be careful and find someone to accompany you.”

A young woman from the production team came out just then. Fu Yu asked and learned that she was staying at the same hotel, so he decided to accompany her. Before leaving, he said, “I just added you as a friend through the group, could you please accept it?”

As they walked away, an assistant director’s voice, muffled, was heard: “Aren’t you in the same car as Xiang Bo? Why does it seem like you just started talking?”

Fu Yu replied, “Teacher Xiang is very busy; he was either handling documents or catching up on sleep.”

Shang Mingbao quietly listened and showed no expression. It wasn’t until her phone vibrated twice that she came back to her senses.

It was a message from Essie, asking where she was. Shang Mingbao replied that she was on her way back to the inn.

She stood up, silently rubbed her numb legs, and thought repeatedly about Xiang Feiran’s gentleness and patience with others.

After the numbness faded, she turned around and unexpectedly bumped into Xiang Feiran. He was looking for a quiet corner to make a call, holding the phone to his ear with his right hand and a cigarette between his left fingers.

The courtyard path was narrow, with a corner behind it. The scent of wild grass and herbs wafted in the quiet corner.

There was no space to pass by or turn back. Shang Mingbao could only stand face to face with Xiang Feiran, waiting for him to step back.

It was like two cars meeting and waiting for each other to reverse.

Xiang Feiran didn’t move back; he stood there, speaking to the person on the other end of the call, “Rest early, if there’s something, let’s hang up for now.”

The night was a deep ink-blue.

“Your assistant said you vomited during the day,” Xiang Feiran initiated.

The moon was high, casting a fish-scale pattern on the sky, with drifting clouds. By the moonlight, Xiang Feiran tried to see if she looked healthy, but his gaze wandered.

Since that meal, they hadn’t met for a year and two months. The set of meticulously illustrated brushes that Tan Shuo Yue gave him had never been opened until one day when he drunkenly used them. He didn’t turn on the light and sketched her eyes by moonlight. The next day, he felt an indescribable sense of self-abandonment, crumpled the paper, and threw it in the trash, not speaking all day.

Shang Mingbao said “Hmm” in response, “It’s not very serious.”

“How are you now?”

“Still okay,” Shang Mingbao replied, “I’ve been drinking hot water.”

“Rest early.”

As he spoke, he stepped aside to clear the way.

Shang Mingbao walked forward, brushing past him, her shoulder lightly brushing his chest.

Xiang Feiran’s gaze fell, watching her black hair glinting faintly in the moonlight.

He wished he could hold her hand, as he had before, and ask what she really meant, whether her appearance here was truly unrelated to him and merely an accident granted by fate. This accident led to no conclusion, changed no course, but merely an encounter as outsiders to each other’s lives.

Some people meet and immediately sense there’s a story; others, even if they meet, seem like strangers—no envy, no resentment, just sharing a table, their gazes directed in opposite directions.

The frustration inside almost suffocates.

“Xiang Feiran.”

Shang Mingbao abruptly stopped, head lowered, fists clenched: “Is this how it ends for us?”

Heaven knows how much effort she put into asking this question.

Xiang Feiran was taken aback by her question, his lips curling coldly: “Otherwise? Haven’t you already started dating someone new?”

The frustration inside her seemed to shatter, leaving Shang Mingbao stunned: “Who’s dating someone?”

Xiang Feiran couldn’t say, “You were just smiling sweetly in your WeChat post,” so he merely flicked the ash from his cigarette and looked at her with a sense of indifference.

Shang Mingbao couldn’t understand how he came to this misunderstanding and could only say: “I went to see you.”

A sudden pang of sorrow welled up in her nose, completely unreasonable.

“I went to see you, just in the audience.”

He said his ex-girlfriend would live a long life, and everyone was screaming, while she stood there foolishly, her blood flowing backward.

She didn’t know what they were shouting about; she only knew that, in the end, love and the passage of time were written on the same page.

Xiang Feiran’s gaze paused, a restrained ripple in his breath: “The one in the baseball cap, is that you?”

“You saw?” Shang Mingbao was caught off guard.

“Black baseball cap, white mask, black long-sleeve knit shirt.”

Polo collar. Screaming for him, hands cupped to form a megaphone.

In the dark night, Shang Mingbao felt like she was dreaming: “You recognized me?”

“No, at first glance, it looked like you; at second glance, it didn’t.”

Shang Mingbao’s eyes were large, with clearly defined upper and lower eyelashes, like a doll.

“I was afraid you’d recognize me, so I changed my makeup,” Shang Mingbao murmured, suddenly feeling a rush of anxiety, as if he had pinned her down: “That part where you made a mistake—”

“Has nothing to do with you,” Xiang Feiran cut her off firmly.

Shang Mingbao pressed her lips together, her once bright eyes now hastily lowering: “Hmm.”

Xiang Feiran took a deep breath, asking with even more coldness than usual: “Why did you come to see me?”

Shang Mingbao said softly: “I wanted to see you, but you wouldn’t let me.”

So she had to fix her hair, apply newly learned makeup, put on a hat and mask, leaving only her eyes exposed, blending into the crowd as an inconspicuous figure.

She wanted to see him every day, but the gap between wanting to see you and deeply loving you was more than just a galaxy. If she appeared in front of him just because she wanted to see him, drifting in and out, wouldn’t it be too frivolous for someone who loves him?

Should she stubbornly cling on for the short time they had? He would definitely agree, but when the possessiveness and fear of losing fade, would what they are left with be a solid and vast shore or an ugly, hole-ridden reef masquerading as a shore?

No more chasing each other, making decisions.

Her mother said, life is long, even hormonally driven love can accommodate some reflection.

Xiang Feiran frowned, experiencing a momentary lapse in memory: “When did I not let you?”

“I asked you, and you said no,” Shang Mingbao said, her teeth grazing her lower lip, recounting: “You said you were very relaxed after the breakup, that you wouldn’t let me call you Feiran Ge anymore. I didn’t dare to make you sad or disliked, so I did whatever I thought you liked and felt comfortable with.”

“…”

“If you think I’m in your way here, I’ll say I’m not adjusting well to the environment and leave tomorrow.”

“…”

Shang Mingbao’s gaze showed she was serious.

There was no way; her eyes were too big, she couldn’t lie convincingly.

The weather was too hot, every inch of Xiang Feiran’s body was irritated, his skin sticky with a certain desire, like moss growing on a rainforest tree.

His tone was icy, almost as cold as Antarctica: “Should I thank you for your consideration?”

Shang Mingbao was stunned, thinking this was his way of asking her to leave, that she was in his way.

Her lips trembled, pressed tightly together, but in the night, it wasn’t clear.

“During the last two years of our relationship, I didn’t show you consideration. I’ll make up for it.”

Xiang Feiran: “…”

Shang Mingbao nearly bit her lip until it bled but insisted on being considerate, saying: “I’ll let Essie handle it, and I’ll find another team for fieldwork.”

Xiang Feiran’s released emotions were calm and indifferent: “No need, since you’re here.”

Shang Mingbao shook her head: “It’s fine, I can find a guide to go into the mountains after you leave. Feiran Ge, don’t worry about me—”

She called him wrong by habit. She quickly pressed her lips together, stumbling for a moment: “Xiang Feiran, Teacher Xiang.”

Xiang Feiran’s expression was emotionless: “The rainforest isn’t as fun as you think; I don’t think you’ll find a more professional guide and advisor than this team.”

Shang Mingbao insisted: “As long as it’s a problem that money can solve, it’s not a problem.”

Xiang Feiran: “…”

He turned and walked away, biting down on the remaining short cigarette: “As you wish.”

“But—” Shang Mingbao hesitated, awkwardly addressing his back: “If you don’t mind, I’d still like to stay.”

“Why?”

“Because Essie put in a lot of effort.”

“And here you are.

Priceless, irreplaceable.”

Shang Mingbao’s voice was soft on her lips but thunderous in her heart.

Xiang Feiran stopped, casually snuffed out his cigarette, turned his back to her, and with a half-raised hand, said indifferently: “Tighten your pants tomorrow; there are leeches in the rainforest.”