Chapter 34: “Road Blocked by Snow” Part 3

Kong Liyuan still held fast to the hand trying to shrink away.

Her gaze flicked to Fu Tingli’s parched lips. “Just wait a second. And don’t pull your own needle.”

“Huh? You’re going out?”

Fu Tingli felt like she might have to drag herself upright.

“Don’t. What if someone snaps a photo?”

“Relax.”

Kong Liyuan finally released her hand. She pinned Fu Tingli in place with a look and pointed to the mask and hat she wore neatly in place.

Then she draped the scarf from the bed over her head and shoulders, covering everything.

“No one will recognize me. I’ll grab a bottle of water. You lie there and behave.”

Before Fu Tingli could protest, Kong Liyuan turned and strode out decisively.

Her steps were a touch light and unsteady, but otherwise, she hardly seemed like someone fresh off a 104-degree fever.

Fu Tingli stared at the tightly shut metal door for a long moment, marveling at Kong Liyuan’s resilience.

This woman’s tolerance for pain and illness was almost nonexistent. Minor injuries barely registered; she could even smile and claim she wasn’t afraid of it.

Looking back now, Fu Tingli realized she’d never seen her show real agony—or perhaps she simply hadn’t faced anything truly unbearable yet?

Not even in her worst moments.

The heaviest it got was furrowed brows amid the blizzard, her face uneasy with a 104-degree fever.

Fu Tingli couldn’t picture what this woman might look like in her deepest pain, her rawest grief.

The thought made her frown. Why was she imagining something so morbid for someone who’d just fetched her water straight out of a fever?

A good person like that deserved a lifetime free of illness, pain, or any such lack.

As for any suffering she kept hidden…

Fu Tingli would rather it had never existed—or that it only ever appeared in those dramatic roles of hers.

She had no idea where Kong Liyuan had gone to find water. Fu Tingli waited and waited until sleepiness overtook her. At some point, Doctor Mu helped another patient inside, glanced at the empty bed next door, then at her drowsy form.

“She left you here alone? And pulled her needle again?”

Fu Tingli burrowed into her blanket and mumbled back, “No, she went to get me some water.”

“Right after her fever broke, she’s off fetching you water?”

Doctor Mu eyed the wreckage on the neighboring bed without a hint of anger—just a light chuckle.

“Why not ask me? I’d give you a cup, no problem.”

Fu Tingli was exhausted, her eyelids drooping. “You could’ve said that earlier.”

Then she remembered the earlier mix-up and tugged at Doctor Mu’s sleeve. “Oh, and Doctor Mu—you got the wrong idea. She’s not my girlfriend.”

Doctor Mu regarded her for a moment, shook her head, and said, “Got it. Sleep well, then.” She gently freed her hand and walked out of her blurry field of vision.

The swaying white coat had a hypnotic effect.

With the biggest misunderstanding cleared up, Fu Tingli finally relaxed. The rescue station’s air conditioning rustled her hair, and she drifted off into a deep, untroubled sleep.

No dreams this time. Just solid, burden-free rest.

When she woke again, a cool dampness touched her lips. Someone was gently swabbed them with a water-soaked cotton tip, easing the dryness.

The touch was feather-light and soothing.

She knew it was Kong Liyuan who had returned, but opening her eyes was still a struggle. After catching sight of those familiar eyes, she relaxed and let her eyelids drift shut once more.

“Kong Liyuan,” she called softly.

“Mm?”

Kong Liyuan’s voice sounded perfectly normal—perhaps even more so than before.

“Want some water?”

“You got some?”

“What do you think?”

The soft cotton swab continued to moisten her lips with gentle dabs.

“Then I’ll have a little,” she said, smacking her lips.

A soft laugh followed. Then a bottle was brought to her lips, and she was fed sips from it.

She drank in a daze and realized the water sliding into her mouth was warm. After a few more gulps, it was pulled away. She lifted her eyes in mild dissatisfaction.

“Don’t drink too fast,” Kong Liyuan reminded her.

Fu Tingli nodded and reached out to take the bottle herself. “I can manage—”

She stopped midway, realizing she had lifted the hand still hooked to the IV.

Subconsciously, she drew it back. But she couldn’t escape. The next moment, that familiar warmth enveloped her again, pinning her down just as before.

“I won’t move,” Fu Tingli said placidly. “Let me go.”

Kong Liyuan paid her no mind. She held Fu Tingli in place with one hand while feeding her water with the other. Then came a faint sigh, so soft it was almost inaudible.

“Can’t you just stay still? How many times has this hand needed the line flushed? One more and it’ll swell up uglier than a pig’s trotter.”

Reminded of it, Fu Tingli did feel her IV hand starting to throb. With no other choice, she let Kong Liyuan feed her, sipping obediently one mouthful at a time.

The guide—his belly full of lamb stew after trudging through the snow for what felt like ages—pushed aside the curtain upon entering. What he witnessed was a scene he could never have imagined in his entire career.

The superstar, who had been burning up with a 104-degree fever just before, was now clad in rumpled clothes, her face mask and hat still on, hair a mess, image utterly shattered. And yet here she was, dutifully feeding water to the young woman who had carried her on her back, now lying weakly in the hospital bed.

Most strikingly, the two seemed to be furtively holding hands under the covers.

He had been standing there with the curtain pulled back for a good while, but neither noticed him. They just kept drinking and staring at each other in silence, oblivious to the world.

Who knew what was going through their minds? But they both looked burdened with heavy thoughts.

As he pondered this, he saw the young woman shake her head mid-sip.

“I’m done. Are you thirsty?”

The superstar admitted, “A little.”

She tugged her face mask down to her chin and took several hearty gulps straight from the bottle’s mouth—the same one the young woman had just used.

The superstar didn’t seem to mind one bit.

How was this anything like the celebrities he saw on his phone, sipping delicately through straws?

Their relationship was clearly something special. The guide had already sensed as much from the way the young woman had desperately carried the superstar out earlier.

Still, he wasn’t entirely sure what it was. Setting aside the superstar’s fame, they were just two girls of similar age. Close friends weren’t all that unusual.

After mulling it over, he decided to stick to his rather lax professional standards and not speculate wildly for now.

With that, he wheeled in the suitcase he’d dug out of the snow with a few loud rolls and cleared his throat lightly.

Surely they’d notice him this time. But no—neither reacted. They carried on as before.

The superstar was leaning in close, moistening the young woman’s lips with a cotton swab. The young woman lay there listlessly, eyes half-closed, probably unable to see him.

So this big, strapping man was invisible to both of them?

The guide thought glumly. He coughed harder, the force rattling his chest and making it ache. Finally, the young woman noticed him.

She looked over in surprise.

He straightened up, rubbing his sore throat, and let out an awkward chuckle as he pushed the suitcase right up to their bedside.

“You’re both awake, huh.”

The stranger’s rough voice shattered the fragile peace within the curtained space.

Fu Tingli saw the guide’s wind-burned, ruddy face. She caught the curiosity in his eyes as he sized them both up.

Instinctively, she dodged the cotton swab Kong Liyuan was extending and picked at the bedsheet with dry fingers. Then she smiled at the guide.

“Guide Big Brother? When did you get here… I didn’t notice.”

Kong Liyuan didn’t turn to face the guide right away. She simply stared at Fu Tingli for a moment before tossing the cotton swab into the nearby trash bin.

Then she dipped her head slightly, brushing back her disheveled hair. In that lowered gaze lingered a hint of weary melancholy—or so it seemed to Fu Tingli.

But when Kong Liyuan looked up again, the melancholy had vanished.

Fu Tingli watched as Kong Liyuan nodded to the guide and offered a smile, just like she always did.

“We owe you our thanks, Guide Big Brother, for getting us out of that blizzard.”

“Aw, it was nothing.”

The atmosphere finally shifted from awkward to normal. The guide waved it off but still checked on their conditions.

“How are you both? All good now?”

Fu Tingli curved her eyes into a smile. “All good. Her fever’s broken, and once I finish this IV, I can walk out of here.”

She glanced at Kong Liyuan again. Her fingers, hidden under the covers, twitched involuntarily before she asked,

“What’s the situation now? Haven’t contacted the crew? How could something this big happen without Teacher Kong’s team showing up?”

She had nearly called out Kong Liyuan’s name right there in front of him.

Kong Liyuan seemed to realize why she had faltered, shooting her a glance.

But in the end, she said nothing.

The hand holding hers under the covers hadn’t let go. If anything, it seemed distracted, lightly stroking her knuckles.

“That’s the thing,” the guide said.

He glanced back and forth between them before sighing.

“You’d better brace yourselves. This snowstorm hit all wrong—like it was cursed or something. Even the pros at weather forecasting didn’t see it coming.

The roads outside are all sealed. We might not be able to get out for a bit… or get anyone in.”

“The roads are sealed? We can’t get out, and no one can come in? Then what do we do?”

Fu Tingli nearly bolted upright in shock at the news, but Kong Liyuan—clearly expecting it—held her firmly in place.

Dazed, Fu Tingli looked toward Kong Liyuan.

Kong Liyuan showed little reaction, merely lifting her eyelids slightly while maintaining a faint smile at the corners of her mouth.

It was as if she had known all along, though Fu Tingli couldn’t be sure. This woman always seemed unflappable in crises.

Until Fu Tingli felt the fingertips resting on hers tremble ever so faintly.

That was when Fu Tingli realized Kong Liyuan knew no more about their predicament than she did—just from that quick trip out to buy water.

“Exactly.”

Unaware of the silent exchange passing between their gazes, the guide continued glumly with the latest.

“We did reach your crew, but they can’t make it in anytime soon.

We can’t get out either. So we’re stuck here until the roads reopen, then we link up.”

“How long until we can leave?”

Fu Tingli still hadn’t processed it. She wasn’t familiar with the Northern Border and hadn’t imagined a single snowstorm could trap them so easily.

“I asked the locals. They said this one’s a big one. Based on past experience, once the roads seal like this…”

Oblivious to the odd shift in their mood, the guide sighed again in dismay.

“At least three days, I’d say.”

The conclusion fell like a blade from above, severing all that followed in an overwhelming rush. Surprisingly, Fu Tingli didn’t find it all that unbelievable or frustrating.

Just a vague disorientation. So they were going to be stuck in some unfamiliar Northern Border village or town with Kong Liyuan… for at least three days?

The thought surfaced.

Before she could sort out her own feelings—whether it was more dull ache or something else—her gaze had already drifted involuntarily toward Kong Liyuan.

And just then, Kong Liyuan lifted her eyes to meet hers, deep pools swirling with unfathomable emotions.

Fu Tingli had no idea what she was thinking. And clearly, neither did she.

But that not-so-thick blanket suddenly became a barrier shutting out the world.

Fu Tingli could feel Kong Liyuan’s warm fingertips pressing firmly against her knuckles. There was a scar there. From that earth-shaking California summer four years ago.

A summer that had lasted only three days.

So this time, it couldn’t be another three-day winter, could it?

She gazed at Kong Liyuan, thinking quietly to herself.