Chapter 99

“Are the wounds more on the left leg or the right leg?”

Before lifting her leg, Xiang Feiran asked in a businesslike manner.

Shang Mingbao thought for a moment and mimicked his formal tone, “The right side.”

Xiang Feiran then lifted her right leg.

Shang Mingbao clung to the sides of the wooden ladder, not daring to look at him. Her face was slightly raised, eyes fixed on the ceiling, her teeth biting her lower lip.

Damn leeches, making her so embarrassed.

The bitten areas had already swollen into small red bumps, quite prominent on her skin. Xiang Feiran crouched down, scrutinizing the wounds carefully. The fluorescent light wasn’t bright enough, and since Shang Mingbao was blocking the light, it cast deep shadows.

“Give me your phone.”

Shang Mingbao didn’t understand but handed over her phone obediently. Xiang Feiran took it and handed her his own phone. “Turn on the flashlight.”

“Oh…”

The flashlight was turned on, casting a beam of light.

Because she had to use the flashlight, Shang Mingbao couldn’t avoid looking. She lowered her head, watching Xiang Feiran’s closed eyelashes, high and sharp nose, pursed lips, and the prominent Adam’s apple on his neck.

It was so hot she wanted to fan herself. Was there no air conditioning here? Although she knew the answer, she still glanced around the walls. Spiderwebs were in the corners, and the smell of medicine continued to invade her senses.

Xiang Feiran opened Shang Mingbao’s phone camera and took pictures of the more serious wounds.

“The top ones are not clear.” He swallowed, his expression and tone still calm. “They are blocked.”

“Then…” Shang Mingbao was at a loss with this sudden problem, her gaze wandering. “Should I… take off my jeans?”

“…”

“…”

In the silence, neither of them looked at each other, their gazes misaligned.

“Call Essie.”

“She’s asleep,” Shang Mingbao replied, stammering a bit. “It’s, it’s okay. You’ve seen it before…”

“…”

He wasn’t the type to be distracted by an ex’s leg, but the stuffy room and stagnant air were making his head spin a bit.

Without responding, Shang Mingbao had already gotten up from the ladder, her bare feet touching the floor. She bent down, pulled her jeans down, and removed them.

Her calves felt inexplicably weak. She couldn’t stand steady, her body swayed slightly, and her head brushed against Xiang Feiran’s chest. He quickly steadied her.

Her sleeveless top left her shoulders exposed, feeling the heat of his palm directly.

“Stand still.”

He commanded her, his tone cold and husky.

After finally removing her jeans, she felt as if she had run an 800-meter race. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her skin felt hot, and her breath was erratic.

Shang Mingbao placed her jeans on the old newspapers and sat back down.

That was close; during outdoor work, she always wore merino wool underwear for its quick sweat-wicking and breathability, with a simple, healthy design.

But still, it was underwear…

The room was so stuffy it felt like it was going to make her sick.

The remaining wounds were on the back of her thigh, some extending past the line of her buttocks. Xiang Feiran could only lift her leg as much as possible, bending her knee, and ensure his gaze was focused on the appropriate areas.

There were two prominent swelling spots, likely from the earliest leech bites, which seemed to have become infected.

Xiang Feiran’s breathing quickened with his heartbeat. He blamed himself for not noticing her condition sooner.

“How could you be so careless?” he frowned and asked indifferently. “Wasn’t the photography assistant supposed to help you check?”

He had underestimated the other man, thinking he would be as competent as himself.

Shang Mingbao’s right cheek puffed up. “How did you know? Were you watching me?”

Xiang Feiran didn’t fall into her trap and replied calmly, “Just happened to glance.”

“Only checked the knee. Who knew they climbed up so quickly?”

“May I touch it?” he asked, looking up.

“Huh, ah?” Shang Mingbao was caught off guard by the question, feeling her head buzz.

“I mean the wounds. I need to confirm the swelling and pain range.”

“Oh…” Shang Mingbao swallowed, her face reddening as she spoke softly, “You can… touch it.”

But her leg was lifted too high, and with the narrow ladder, she struggled to hold her core. Suddenly, her sweaty hand slipped, causing her to topple backward—

“Ah!”

A short cry was followed by a clumsy stumble, and then everything fell silent. Her pale wrist drew a soft arc in the air, caught by another long hand that pulled her back gently but firmly—

She fell straight into Xiang Feiran’s arms.

Fortunately, the ladder was steady, only scraping slightly against the cement floor.

Shang Mingbao’s entire face was pressed against his chest through his shirt, her eyes wide, not daring to swallow.

His body odor, the smell of tobacco, sweat, perfume, and the scent of his shirt all overwhelmed her senses.

The heartbeat in her ear was like boulders rolling down a valley—steady, rumbling, and increasingly rapid.

Xiang Feiran’s Adam’s apple moved slightly. In the stillness, his low, husky voice fell above her head. “Didn’t control the strength. Sorry.”

He had just pulled her up, now pushing on her shoulder, seeming to want to move her away from his embrace.

A wave of reckless impulse overtook Shang Mingbao’s mind. She suddenly hugged him tightly, her arms clinging desperately.

“Don’t go.”

Xiang Feiran stiffened, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his muscular arms pressed closely against hers as before.

“Shang Mingbao.” He called her name like a teacher addressing a disobedient student.

Shang Mingbao didn’t listen. She kept her eyes tightly shut, her face pressed closer to his chest, her arms holding even tighter.

Her unrestrained momentum felt like a dream.

This was a dream—one year and four months, hearing nothing, seeing nothing, touching nothing, every night trying to break through barriers, every day retreating.

Xiang Feiran’s body was rigid, his jawline taut.

“Stop it, I haven’t showered.” After a while, he said quietly, his tone unreadable.

“It doesn’t matter,” Shang Mingbao said impatiently.

Xiang Feiran hesitated, then said firmly, “Get up. We still need to check a few more wounds.”

Shang Mingbao felt her heartbeat was so fast.

But, wait… It was her own heartbeat.

Not Xiang Feiran’s.

His heartbeat, voice, and emotions were all steady, undisturbed.

Shang Mingbao was stunned, suddenly feeling intense pain in her body, her gaze becoming dazed, as if she had done something wrong.

“Feiran-ge…” She loosened her grip, her face lifting from his chest.

She wanted to ask something but felt like a black vortex at her feet was constantly sapping her courage.

Didn’t you already stop liking me?

Xiang Feiran took a step back and tilted his chin up. “Go back and sit properly.”

Shang Mingbao gazed at him for a moment, but Xiang Feiran looked away, rolling up his loose shirt sleeves, not meeting her gaze.

“Sorry…” She lowered her eyelashes, “I might…”

Xiang Feiran interrupted her, asking calmly, “Do you want to change positions? You might not be able to sit steadily like this.”

Whatever he said, Shang Mingbao did, getting off the ladder, supporting herself on the medicine cabinet, lowering her waist, resting her forehead lightly against the aluminum cabinet corner, and closing her sore eyes.

His examination continued.

“Does it hurt here?”

“Mm.”

“And here?”

“A little.”

“Here?”

She shook her head.

The small room remained cramped, dim, and stuffy, sweat emerging from her skin. Yet the tender and ambiguous feelings suddenly ceased growing, unable to find a solid support, and wilted helplessly to the ground.

All the wounds were checked, and the necessary photos were taken. Xiang Feiran returned her phone. “You can send these to your private doctor for further confirmation.”

Shang Mingbao slowly put her pants back on, took the phone with a quiet “thanks.”

They stood in silence for a few seconds. As Xiang Feiran turned to open the latch and push the door, he suddenly heard a familiar voice.

“Why are you here too?” A male voice with a strong Beijing accent, presumably one of the photographers who had slipped on the slope today.

“Get an omeprazole,” said Hui Wen’s voice.

“Another reflux?”

“Don’t mention it, it’s burning badly. I had too much coffee while rushing the project a few days ago.”

Xiang Feiran put the latch back, turned around, leaned casually against the door, and said softly to Shang Mingbao, “Wait a moment.”

He habitually took out a cigarette from the pack, placed it in his mouth, but didn’t light it, just holding it between his lips.

If it were before, she would have nestled close to him, asking for a kiss.

He was a great kisser, even though she was the only one he had ever kissed in his life.

But now, this nonchalant posture felt so distant. Trapped in this small room, Shang Mingbao could only listen to the small talk between Hui Wen, the photographer, and the village clinic doctor, not knowing what the weather was like outside.

While the doctor went to the glass cabinet to get medicine, the photographer made small talk: “How is that Xiaobao teacher doing?”

“She’s been through a lot,” Hui Wen said sympathetically. “It scared the life out of me.”

“I see Xiang Bo is very concerned. Are they close?”

Hui Wen laughed, “How would I know? They seem quite unfamiliar to me.”

“True,” the photographer mumbled. “Maybe he has a crush on her and is chasing after her.”

Hui Wen laughed even more, “That would be too fast.”

“She’s beautiful,” the photographer said, “and at the perfect age. It wouldn’t be surprising if it happened.”

“You think everyone is like you, unable to resist a pretty face?” Hui Wen teased. “You haven’t heard the gossip about Xiang Bo? He’s still deeply in love with his ex-girlfriend, even dedicated his Ph.D. dissertation to her as his ‘only love.'”

“Ha,” the photographer pulled out a cigarette, dismissively, “When you’re young and playing at romance, who doesn’t make grand promises? Breaking up is no big deal. I’m telling you, only the dead are everlasting, moonlit memories. As long as they’re alive, they just become grains of rice.”

Seeing Hui Wen roll her eyes, he glanced back sideways, “Don’t believe it? Do you think Xiang Feiran, when he wrote that line, was absolutely sure that regardless of whether they stayed together or broke up, he could never love anyone else?”

Hui Wen couldn’t find the words to respond. Seeing the doctor return, she reluctantly muttered, “I don’t think he’s the type to say things lightly.”

“Ha.” The photographer raised his tone, a look of frustration on his face, “You’re all just blinded by looks.”

Hui Wen took the medicine and didn’t leave immediately. She waited a moment for him and then left the room with him, chatting and laughing as they went out the door.

Hearing them gossiping on the spot, Shang Mingbao didn’t know what expression to make. She looked up at Xiang Feiran, who was as composed as ever, as if he wasn’t the center of the conversation.

“Brother Feiran,” Shang Mingbao’s fingers, hanging by her side, slowly twisted as she gathered her courage, “about that dedication…”

“Let’s go,” Xiang Feiran interrupted her, turning around and decisively unlocking the bolt.

As soon as the narrow door opened, the wind rushed in, dispersing the heat that once made her blush and quickened her heart, and also ruffled Xiang Feiran’s loose-fitting shirt. His figure was moving further away from her.

Xiang Feiran clearly described Shang Mingbao’s injuries to the doctor, including the size of the swelling and the extent of the pain, with such precision that the rural barefoot doctor scratched his head. Shang Mingbao also showed him the photos on her phone. After such a thorough diagnosis, they prescribed iodine for external use, anti-inflammatory medicine for oral intake, and gave her a tetanus shot.

After everything was done, night had fallen. The village had no street lights, and the path was only lit by the lights from the boat-shaped village houses. As they walked along the winding path, they could hear a few dogs barking. The heat rising from the concrete road surged at Shang Mingbao, while the mountain breeze cooled her down, making her feel both hot and cold.

Hui Wen called in the guest consultants’ group for dinner, at the same place as last night.

As they were about to arrive, Xiang Feiran naturally stopped: “You go ahead, I’ll head back to take a shower first.”

Shang Mingbao knew he wanted to avoid suspicion, so she bluntly asked, “Weren’t you afraid they’d notice when you called me by my full name today?”

“I didn’t think that far at the time.”

“And now? What are you thinking more about now?” Shang Mingbao asked, unwilling to give up.

“I’m thinking that you should go eat and then get some rest early,” Xiang Feiran calmly deflected her probing.

Shang Mingbao pressed her lips together. In the silence filled with the sounds of insects and barking dogs, she asked, “Xiang Feiran, has your dedication expired?”

The wind that blew through the rainforest and terraced fields couldn’t disturb the determination in her eyes.

Under the deep blue, velvet-like sky, Shang Mingbao gathered her courage, firmly, unwaveringly looking at Xiang Feiran: “When you wrote that, did you do it with the belief that no matter what happened between us, you would love me forever, or is it expired now? Am I just a relic of the past?”

Xiang Feiran’s gaze rested on her face, quiet, serene, calm.

“For the Shang Mingbao of the past, that dedication will never expire.”

Shang Mingbao was stunned, her expression blank from the overwhelming pain like a tsunami.

This sentence had to be heard in reverse.

To him, she was no longer the Shang Mingbao of the past.

Every word was like a bamboo splinter embedded in her nail bed.

She felt as if her ten fingers were dripping blood from the pain.

The blood pumped from her heart, converging at her fingertips through her veins, dripping down one by one, each drop a pang of agony.

“Then what about what you did for me today? Was that also for the sake of the past Shang Mingbao?”

Was her questioning ignorant?

“No.” Xiang Feiran looked at her seriously, “What I did for you today is nothing. Any friend I’ve known for as many years as I’ve known you, if she had no one else by her side, I would have helped the same way. It’s just that we have another layer of relationship, so I could help a bit more than an ordinary friend. Don’t take it to heart.”

“I don’t believe you.” Shang Mingbao shook her head, “I can read the look in your eyes. You’re not indifferent to me, Xiang Feiran.”

Xiang Feiran curled his lips, as if in self-mockery, “So what?”

—

The last few days of the rainforest expedition became more intense with each passing day.

They encountered wild elephants, waded through streams littered with boulders, paddled a canoe down a green river quietly brimming with danger, searched for flowers blooming on old vines, entered the hollow trunk of a giant strangler fig, marveled at the bizarre and beautiful orchids that filled their view, and were astonished by the unremarkable yet deadly creatures found everywhere.

The advisor was amazed at her expertise and precision in collecting plants. When asked about it, Shang Mingbao simply mentioned that she had a friend who loved going on outdoor adventures during her studies in the United States. She had collected so many specimen leaves that she couldn’t handle them all, so she stayed up late with Essie one night, thinking of the days she spent pressing specimens with Xiang Feiran in the work tent, which now felt so distant, almost as if it were a different lifetime.

Essie admired her endurance more than once. A few days later, the leech toxin indeed started to take effect. When Essie applied medicine on her, it was as if she could feel the same itching and pain, but Shang Mingbao didn’t make a sound.

The small black insects in the jungle, called “midges,” were everywhere, and each bite left a large bump. While everyone else complained bitterly, Shang Mingbao endured it as well.

In the last two days, they were supposed to cross the route. The advantage was that the campsite on the beach had a dirt road accessible by vehicle, so everyone’s tents and sleeping bags were transported directly by a pickup truck, sparing them the hardship of carrying heavy loads through the rainforest during the scientific expedition.

That afternoon, around four o’clock, they arrived at the pristine wild beach, and everyone felt a great sense of relief.

The logistics team had already set up three shower tents, and freshwater was being delivered box by box, more than enough for everyone.

Essie dragged a tent package over from a distance. After listening for a while to instructions on how to set it up—first do this, then that…—her mind was a bit tied in knots.

Shang Mingbao calmly unpacked the tent components and, with methodical precision, directed her, showing her what to do.

“Wow.” Essie’s eyes sparkled for the umpteenth time, and she couldn’t help but turn her head to look at Xiang Feiran.

He still had filming to do that evening and was discussing details with the advisor.

Over the past few days, they had only exchanged a few necessary words, and no one suspected that he and Shang Mingbao had any previous connection.

As night fell, Director Yang and the filming crew took Xiang Feiran and the advisor back into the forest, while the rest stayed at the campsite to rest on their own.

Hui Wen was indeed a very competent production coordinator; even in such rough conditions, she managed to start a campfire, and the vehicle had ice-cold watermelon and beer. Tomorrow the expedition would end, and everyone loosened up, drinking and chatting more.

Somehow, the conversation turned to the topic of marriage.

“Teacher Xiang is an advocate of the unmarried lifestyle,” said another young woman from the production team. “It’s pretty cool.”

“I’m childfree,” Hui Wen said, raising her chin slightly. “Cool or not?”

The young woman flattered her, “Of course, Sister Wen is the coolest.”

Most of the people present were married with children, so they joked and lightly criticized these “unconventional” choices. One of the logistics guys used Xiang Feiran as an example, saying, “Let’s put it this way, if Teacher Xiang weren’t into the unmarried lifestyle, he might have already tied the knot with his ex-girlfriend. What girl can stand dating without the prospect of marriage? They probably broke up because of that.”

“I could stand it.” A faint voice interrupted, and everyone turned to see Fu Yu’s face illuminated by the campfire.

She smiled serenely, poking the embers with a stick. “What a coincidence, I’m also an advocate of the unmarried lifestyle.”

“Oh, oh, oh,” someone immediately teased, “I caught that, Teacher Fu.”

Essie’s smile stiffened slightly. She instinctively turned her gaze, looking for Shang Mingbao’s face.

Shang Mingbao was sipping on purified water, her face blurred yet beautiful in the flickering firelight.

The discussion went back and forth about the pros and cons of marriage versus staying single, having children versus not having children. They were all adults and knew to be polite. In the end, each spoke well of their own choices: those who had children spoke of the worries of parenthood, those without children praised how cute kids are, the married ones sighed over the freedom of the unmarried, while the unmarried admired the courage of those who got married. Everyone was satisfied, walking their own paths while being praised by others.

By a little past eight, the campfire was extinguished. Some people played in the sand by the sea, others went for a walk, and Shang Mingbao had already retreated into her tent early to organize the plants she had collected that day. Many of the names were unfamiliar, so she secretly asked the advisor, but the advisor could only vaguely identify the genus, nothing more specific. He encouraged her to ask Xiang Feiran, “You should ask Teacher Xiang; he’ll definitely know.”

Shang Mingbao didn’t ask, planning to slowly use software to identify them once she had a signal.

It wasn’t that she was giving up; she just felt that this reunion had happened too suddenly. Perhaps after returning to Ning City, she could better express her feelings to him.

Through the tent, she could hear voices clearly and knew that the filming crew had returned. The Beijing-accented cameraman was complaining about getting covered in mosquito bites and how terrifying the rainforest was at night, relying entirely on strong lights to keep his courage up.

Shang Mingbao let out a soft sigh of relief.

Then she heard him say, “Oh, are we photographing the star trails?”

Fu Yu chuckled, “The Milky Way.”

She didn’t hear Xiang Feiran’s voice.

She only heard Fu Yu call out to him, “Teacher Xiang, look up.”

He was silent, but the other cameramen and the director exclaimed, “Is there really a Milky Way? Can you see the Milky Way from the beach?”

“It’s indeed rare.”

The cameramen and director still had to sort out the footage from that evening, so they all went into the work tent. From afar, Hui Wen’s warm voice could be heard, “Would you like some watermelon?”

“That would be great!”

Amid this lively atmosphere, Fu Yu’s voice seemed particularly close. “Teacher Xiang, do you know how to adjust the settings? My shots didn’t come out well.”

Xiang Feiran still didn’t respond.

Shang Mingbao’s pen had been still for a long time. There was a Milky Way outside, and she hadn’t even known.

After what seemed like an adjustment of settings, Xiang Feiran’s voice finally rang out, “Try it now.”

“Don’t go yet,” Fu Yu stopped him. “What if it doesn’t work?”

The exposure time was set to two and a half minutes.

“Is the Milky Way beautiful?” Fu Yu asked.

“It’s alright.”

“Just alright?”

“It’s a bit less impressive than in the highlands and mountains, but it’s rare to see it here,” Xiang Feiran said calmly, hands in his pockets, looking up.

The sky was dazzling, the Milky Way stretching across like a jade belt. All the tents in the camp looked the same, and he couldn’t bring himself to say, “Shang Mingbao, come out and see the Milky Way.”

Two and a half minutes felt very long.

Fu Yu asked, “Does talking affect the shutter stability?”

Xiang Feiran glanced at her tripod. “This tripod won’t work.”

“We were just chatting, and your name came up,” Fu Yu said calmly as an opening line.

“What?”

Shang Mingbao curled her legs, crumpling the loose-leaf paper in her hands.

Panic coursing through her veins left her with a blank stare.

No.

Don’t…

“They said you’re an advocate of remaining single.”

Xiang Feiran was silent for a moment.

“How coincidental, I am too,” Fu Yu said lightly.

Xiang Feiran turned away, her gaze lingering on her face for a moment. Her boyfriend is younger than she is and had recently asked him about the PhD slots for next year, even sending him her boyfriend’s resume. To be honest, it still fell short of his standards. No wonder this girl brought up the topic of marriage on the first day—no matter how composed she tried to appear, her methods were still amateurish.

At that moment, a prayer echoed in Shang Mingbao’s heart.

Don’t take an interest in others.

Don’t become curious about others.

Please.

Don’t let your gaze linger on someone else.

Don’t make a second person wait for your affection…

Xiang Feiran smiled, looking at Fu Yu with a hint of helplessness, and shook his head. “Why are you an advocate of remaining single?”

He even doubted if this was one of her ways of getting closer to her boyfriend.

A curtain away, a pencil silently fell onto the sleeping bag.

The black waves retreated from the white sand, taking with them Shang Mingbao’s blood, leaving it utterly clean.

In the end, he had indeed become curious about others.

A curiosity about like-minded people, those of the same type, without needing to compromise.