Chapter 48: Convergence

Inside a temporary prefab at the Dunhuang Film Base, the coal stove was burning fiercely.

"Slap!"

Xiang Qian slammed the Oriental Daily onto the table; on the front-page group photo, Cheng Long stood beside Zhu Zhu Yanping, his smile so stiff it looked as if it had been carved by a knife.

Wind and snow howled outside the window; Xiang Qian grabbed the satellite phone and dialed over a dozen times, but Cheng Long's number always rang busy. The one who finally answered was Lin Lin Qingxia:

"Qianzai!" Her voice was pressed extremely low. "Ah Long has been taken to the Philippines. Wang Yu sent eight thugs to watch him while filming..."

Suddenly, the sound of shattering glass came from the other end of the line, followed by Lin Lin Qingxia's hurried panting: "I can't say more. They even treated Tony Leung's wife—"

The communication cut off abruptly.

Zhang, the floor manager, burst in wrapped in a military greatcoat: "Director Wu! The blizzard has sealed the mountains. The military district says the helicopter can't arrive until the fifth day of the New Year at the earliest!"

The enamel mug in Zhou Zhou Huimin's hand clattered to the ground, spilling goji and red date tea that stained the muddy floor with dark red marks.

"So that means..." Her voice trembled. "We have to spend Chinese New Year in Dunhuang?"

Gazing out the window at the goose-feather snow, Xiang Qian suddenly laughed: "Perfect. I've never seen snow fall on a desert before."

He turned and rummaged deep into his luggage to pull out two bottles of Moutai—thirty-year-old vintage that Sixth Uncle had pressed into his hands before departure.

"We'll stay up for New Year's Eve tonight." Xiang Qian popped the caps; under the kerosene lamp, the amber liquor glowed with golden light. "Let's just treat it as..."

"A honeymoon." Zhou Zhou Huimin suddenly finished the sentence, the tips of her ears red as if about to drip blood.

Late at night in the crew canteen, the dozen or so staff members who had stayed behind were drunk and swaying. Wang Jing, Liu Liu Furong, and others were tapping their bowls with chopsticks while singing "Sweet Sweet," while the lighting technician hugged the sound equipment and danced the tango.

"Let's slip away," Xiang Qian whispered into Zhou Zhou Huimin's ear, his warm breath tickling her earlobe. "I have hotpot in my dorm."

Inside the military tent, the copper pot bubbled vigorously. Zhou Zhou Huimin picked up a slice of boiled mutton when she suddenly let out a small cry—Xiang Qian had grabbed her ankle under the table.

"Your hands are so cold!" She laughed and tried to pull away, but he yanked her into an embrace reeking of alcohol.

Zhou Zhou Huimin suddenly pressed her finger against his mouth.

Just as she was about to speak, her fingertip felt a wet sensation. Xiang Qian had actually licked her finger!

"Wait, wait!" Zhou Zhou Huimin flusteredly tried to block his hands as he worked on her buttons. "My sweater will pill..."

Xiang Qian simply grabbed a pair of scissors: "I'll buy you ten replacements."

With a "snip," the three-thousand-Hong-Kong-dollar cashmere sweater became two pieces of rag. Just as Zhou Zhou Huimin was about to scream, the world suddenly spun around her—Xiang Qian had wrapped her in his military greatcoat and lifted her up!

"Xiang Qian!" She buried her face in the hollow of his neck, ashamed. "There are people everywhere outside..."

"So you'll have to be quiet." The man grinned wickedly as he kicked open the wooden door to the inner room. "This rickety tent isn't soundproof."

The camp bed emitted a groan as if it could bear no more. Zhou Zhou Huimin suddenly pressed down on his hand reaching for her back: "Do you... have any experience?"

Under the kerosene lamp, Xiang Qian's Adam's apple bobbed. "Rich in theoretical experience."

"Liar!" She poked his chest.

The rest of her words were sealed by a passionate kiss. When the man's calloused fingers finally brushed against her snowy peaks, Zhou Zhou Huimin suddenly said in a trembling voice: "The light... can we turn off the light?"

But Xiang Qian turned the kerosene lamp up even brighter: "I want to look into your eyes." He bit her earlobe. "I want to remember every expression you make."

As dawn broke, Zhou Zhou Huimin was awakened by a certain sensation. Opening her eyes, she saw Xiang Qian smearing red merbromin onto the bedsheet.

"What are you doing?" she asked groggily.

The man's ears were completely red: "Keeping a memento..."

Before he could finish, she pounced on him. In the morning light, mischief gleamed in Xiang Qian's eyes: "Finally telling the truth?" He lowered his head to bite her collarbone. "Then we need to make up for it with some morning exercise..."

"Knock, knock, knock!" Urgent pounding on the door interrupted the romance. Zhang, the floor manager, shouted from outside: "Director Wu! The military district called to say the snow has stopped!"

As the helicopter's rotors whipped up a sky full of snow foam, Zhou Zhou Huimin suddenly tugged Xiang Qian's sleeve: "After we get back... regarding Wang Yu..."

"Sixth Uncle will arrange everything." Xiang Qian fastened her seatbelt.

Zhou Zhou Huimin gasped: "Then what about Brother Long and the others?"

"Don't worry." Xiang Qian handed her the satellite phone. "Listen to who this is."

Cheng Long's signature hearty laughter came through the receiver: "Qianzai! Zhu Zhu Yanping secretly slipped me a satellite phone! That gang of Wang Yu's is now—"

The signal suddenly cut out. But in that final instant, they clearly heard the familiar sound of a telescopic baton slicing through the air.