Chapter 48: Union

Inside the temporary wooden barracks at the Dunhuang Film Base, the coal stove burned fiercely.

"Smack!"

Xiang Qian slammed the Oriental Daily onto the table; in the group photo on the front page, Jackie Chan stood beside Zhu Yanping, his smile as stiff as if carved by a knife.

Outside, the wind and snow howled. Xiang Qian grabbed the satellite phone and dialed more than ten times, but Jackie Chan's number was always busy. Finally, Lin Qingxia answered:

"Qian Zai!" Her voice was pressed extremely low, "Ah Long has been taken to the Philippines. The Wang Yu Sect sent eight thugs to watch him film..."

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

The connection cut off abruptly.

Stagehand Xiao Zhang burst in wrapped in a military greatcoat: "Director Wu! The blizzard has sealed the mountain. The military region says the helicopter can't come until the fifth day at the earliest!"

Zhou Huimin's enamel mug "clanged" as it fell to the floor, and the goji berry and red date tea spread dark red stains on the muddy ground.

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

Xiang Qian looked out at the goose-feather snow and suddenly smiled: "Perfect. I haven't seen snow in the desert yet."

He turned and dug two bottles of Moutai from the depths of his luggage—these were thirty-year-old vintage brews that Sixth Uncle had stuffed into his hands before departure.

"We'll keep watch tonight." Xiang Qian flicked the cap off; the amber liquor shimmered with golden light under the kerosene lamp. "Just treat it as..."

"A honeymoon." Zhou Huimin suddenly finished the sentence, her ear tips red as if they might drip blood.

Late at night in the crew canteen, the dozen or so staff members who stayed behind were drunk and slumped over. Wang Jing and Andy Lau and others were tapping their bowls with chopsticks, singing "Sweetheart," while the lighting technician held the radio equipment and danced the tango.

"Let's sneak away." Xiang Qian leaned close to Zhou Huimin's ear, his hot breath making her earlobe itch. "I have a hot pot in my dorm."

Inside the military tent, the copper pot bubbled and gurgled. Zhou Huimin picked up a slice of boiled mutton and suddenly cried out "Ah!"—Xiang Qian had grabbed her ankle under the table.

"Your hands are so cold!" She laughed and tried to dodge, but was pulled into a embrace that smelled of alcohol.

Zhou Huimin suddenly pressed her finger against his mouth.

Just as she wanted to speak, a wet sensation touched her fingertip. Xiang Qian actually licked her finger!

"Wait, wait!" Zhou Huimin fumbled to block his hand as he undid her buttons. "My sweater will pill..."

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

With a "crack," the three-thousand-HKD cashmere sweater became two pieces of rag. Just as Zhou Huimin was about to cry out, the whole world suddenly spun—Xiang Qian had actually wrapped her in his military greatcoat and picked her up!

"Xiang Qian!" She buried her face in his neck in shame. "There are people everywhere outside..."

"So you need to be quiet." The man grinned wickedly and kicked open the inner wooden door. "This broken tent isn't soundproof."

The camp bed creaked under the unbearable weight. Zhou Huimin suddenly pressed down his hand reaching for her back: "You... do you have experience?"

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

"Liar!" She poked his chest.

The remaining words were sealed by a scorching kiss. When the man's fingers, calloused from the gun, finally brushed the snow peaks, Zhou Huimin suddenly spoke in a trembling voice: "The lamp... turn off the lamp, okay?"

Xiang Qian, however, twisted the kerosene lamp even brighter: "I want to look into your eyes." He bit her earlobe. "Remember every expression of yours."

When dawn was just breaking, Zhou Huimin was awakened by a certain sensation. Opening her eyes, she saw Xiang Qian smearing red medicine onto the bedsheet.

"What are you doing?" She asked groggily.

The man's ears were bright red: "To keep a souvenir..."

Before he could finish speaking, he was tackled. In the morning light, a mischievous gleam of success shone in Xiang Qian's eyes: "Finally told the truth?" He lowered his head and bit her collarbone. "Then we must make up for it with morning exercise..."

"Knock, knock, knock!" Urgent knocking interrupted the romantic scene. Stagehand Xiao Zhang shouted from outside: "Director Wu! The military region called and said the snow has stopped!"

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

"Sixth Uncle will arrange it." Xiang Qian fastened her seatbelt for her.

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

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

Jackie Chan's signature loud laughter came through the receiver: "Qian Zai! Zhu Yanping secretly slipped me a satellite phone! Those guys from the Wang Yu Sect are now—"

The signal suddenly cut off. But in the final instant, they clearly heard the familiar sound of a baton breaking the air.