The scorching heat from her palm pressed against the back of Fu Tingli’s head, sending warmth surging upward. The clamor of the airport—shouts and chatter—suddenly flooded her ears.
She snapped to attention, yanking down her own baseball cap and pulling away from Kong Liyuan.
—this was the airport, after all. Fans and media who knew the crew’s schedule could be lurking anywhere, waiting to pounce.
She was just about to scan around for anyone who might have noticed them when her still-fuzzy vision caught someone shouting, “Where’s Kong Liyuan?”
Fu Tingli ducked her head, avoiding the surging crowd in that direction.
Then Kong Liyuan murmured in her ear,
“The crew’s van is parked at the airport entrance.”
Before parting, that feverish palm gently pressed atop her head once more.
“Watch your step. Don’t trip.”
Fu Tingli didn’t protest. She ignored her lingering dizziness and the nagging question of why she was skulking about like this—she hadn’t done anything intimate with Kong Liyuan, after all.
Yet guilt already gnawed at her.
Head down, she hurried out of the airport. Spotting the crew’s rented four-wheel-drive snow SUV, she exhaled a long breath.
She tilted her head to the vast, empty sky. Maybe it was the candy’s effect, but after a moment in the wind, watching the throng disperse across the open lot, she felt less woozy.
The guide stood by the car, smoking. He looked like a local Kazakh man in his forties, with thick brows, deep-set eyes, and the rough skin common to the region. His Mandarin was a bit halting.
“Crew folks? Hauling those art pieces in the back?”
Fu Tingli replied amiably, “Yeah.”
The guide nodded, stubbed out his cigarette, and limped over.
“I’ll get the luggage.”
Without another word, he tossed the butt to the ground, stomped it out roughly, and loaded her bags into the car.
“So it’s just you in this ride, then.”
He climbed back in. Seeing her still standing there dazed, he leaned out the window, his curly hair tousled by the wind.
“Why aren’t you getting in?”
Fu Tingli hesitated, unnerved—perhaps by Kong Liyuan’s earlier words, or maybe because she hadn’t fully recovered.
But this was the crew’s hired driver, traveling with the group. He couldn’t possibly abduct her alone.
“Oh, my leg’s no good, but I’ve got a valid license. No worries.”
“I’m not worried.”
Fu Tingli dawdled but finally climbed in.
No AC was running; the car was frigid, but it didn’t smell bad. It was probably another crew rental, assigned to a local who knew the terrain.
The guide rested his hand on the steering wheel and glanced at her in the rearview mirror with a smile.
“We’ll wait for the main group up front. Once everyone’s here and they signal, we’ll head out together.”
Fu Tingli was getting sleepy, stifling a yawn but forcing herself to stay awake. She nodded, her head already drooping toward the seat.
Then—
The door swung open, letting in a gust of even colder wind. Someone slid in briskly, carrying a scent that didn’t belong to a new car—more like the grounding familiarity of Shanghai.
Cool, yet somehow warm, with an inexplicable restlessness. Fu Tingli glanced over, her eyes meeting Kong Liyuan’s just as she looked up.
For a moment, she blanked.
The guide’s reaction was similar. He withdrew his hand from the wheel in a daze.
“How… how’d we suddenly get an extra person?”
Kong Liyuan pulled off her mask and gave a lazy smile. “My assigned van’s packed. Better to ride with my sculpture instructor— we can chat along the way.”
Kong Liyuan’s van was full? Fu Tingli doubted the crew was that stingy; word getting back to her agency would cause a stir.
And when had she become Kong Liyuan’s sculpture teacher?
Fu Tingli’s mind was still foggy; she just fiddled absently with her already-fastened seatbelt.
The guide nodded awkwardly. He’d never been this close to a superstar before. He scratched at the scar on his cheek, hastily rolling up the windows and cranking the AC. Warm air blasted out.
The lead van ahead honked once.
He rubbed his hands and honked back sharply. As Kong Liyuan glanced over, he flashed a grin.
Once the front vehicle pulled away and the view cleared, he floored the accelerator with a whoop.
“Here we go—seatbelts on!”
The SUV rumbled to life, hitting the wide road. The scenery blurred past her hazy vision like a hypnotic reel.
Fu Tingli leaned her head against the window, too drowsy to admire the passing views. Wrapped in that toasty aura, within a few breaths, sleepiness overwhelmed her.
With Kong Liyuan now beside her, she wasn’t as tense as if riding alone.
The sleep she’d been fighting crashed over her relentlessly.
Fu Tingli’s heavy eyelids fluttered.
She heard Kong Liyuan leisurely buckle up, the guide warning that they’d hit some snowy roads soon—bumpy ones. Best to brace themselves and eat something, or they’d hurl.
Then her weighted lids sealed over her senses. Even the voices grew muddled.
Kong Liyuan watched Fu Tingli drift off, staring at the side of her face shadowed under the faded baseball cap for a good while. She turned to the guide up front.
“Could you turn up the heat a bit?”
“Of course!”
He agreed readily, bumping the warm air higher, then sneaked another peek at Kong Liyuan’s face in the rearview.
Kong Liyuan caught his gaze and smiled, tilting her head lazily back against the headrest.
She could feel herself burning up.
The excessive heat made her irritable, like floating untethered in the sky.
She especially hated this loss of control.
But the glances from the front kept coming—curious, yet slyly appraising.
Kong Liyuan suddenly craved a cigarette to quell the feverish restlessness.
Instead, she closed her eyes calmly and smiled again.
“Guide Big Brother, got any water?”
“Water? Cold or hot?” He rummaged in the passenger seat and pulled out a bottle of mineral water, chuckling first.
“All I got’s cold.”
“That’s fine. Thanks.”
Kong Liyuan took it with a smile, fishing a nearly depleted blister pack of pills from her bag.
She popped one out casually, tossed it in her mouth, and washed it down with the chilly water.
The pill scraped down her razor-sharp throat, catching briefly as bitterness flooded up.
She took another sip to swallow it, noting the guide’s thoughtful glance.
“Superstar’s under the weather, huh?”
“Just a little cold and fever. No big deal.”
Kong Liyuan replied, then glanced at Fu Tingli, who leaned against the other window.
Still in that washed-out blue baseball cap, she seemed nearly asleep, swaying gently with the car’s jolts. Her eyelashes trembled like fragile butterfly wings.
Sleeping soundly enough.
Kong Liyuan gazed thoughtfully for a moment, reassuring herself she hadn’t let anyone snap Fu Tingli’s face earlier.
Xia Yue’s incident was a wake-up call.
Even with her role as the crew’s sculpture consultant, Kong Liyuan didn’t want Fu Tingli photographed beside her—it wouldn’t end well.
If her mere presence dragged Fu Tingli into scrutiny for no reason, that was the last thing she wanted.
No one in this world had the right to judge whether this person was good or bad.
“You big stars don’t bring assistants when you travel? On TV, they always roll out with a whole entourage swarming behind them~”
The guide piped up from the front, his voice booming.
Kong Liyuan lazily crossed her arms and glanced at Fu Tingli. The young woman, still lost in dreams, seemed to startle badly. She unconsciously wrinkled her nose.
She hazily cracked her eyes open. Her light-brown gaze drifted over, hazy and soft like a dream.
“Are we there yet?” Fu Tingli yawned.
“Not even close—we just set off.” Kong Liyuan smiled, then added, “Get some more sleep. I’ll wake you when we arrive.”
Fu Tingli nodded and peacefully closed her eyes again. In the bumpy car, she drifted off once more.
But that little disturbance had knocked the cap on her head askew, and now it teetered on the verge of falling.
Kong Liyuan reached out anyway.
She meant to adjust the cap back into place, but just then the car jolted. Fu Tingli’s face landed squarely in her palm.
The cap tumbled down too, smacking onto her calf before rolling to her foot.
Kong Liyuan’s palm pressed against Fu Tingli’s cheek. She could almost feel the thin eyelashes brushing across her skin like tiny fans fluttering softly.
Her own hand burned hot, feverish and restless—a fire she could barely control.
But Fu Tingli was cool, probably from all the cold wind she’d caught earlier. Her whole body hadn’t warmed up yet.
She felt like smooth, slippery ice that crackled and hissed, snuffing out the flames in Kong Liyuan’s hand. Even extinguished, though, the fire smoldered on as embers, still twitching with life.
Kong Liyuan lifted her other hand, intending to gently pat Fu Tingli’s nape as she sometimes did. But an unconscious glance caught the Guide’s eyes flicking over from the rearview mirror.
She lifted her chin slightly.
“She’s out cold, huh?” The Guide said cheerfully, turning the wheel.
In an instant, even the embers scattered into weary ash, drifting aimlessly through the air.
Kong Liyuan let out a lazy sigh.
She eased Fu Tingli away from her still-burning palm, settling her head back against the headrest. Then she picked up the fallen baseball cap and placed it on Fu Tingli’s head.
The Guide watched the whole thing—no extra movements, nothing more.
“That’s the Superstar’s assistant?”
The Guide kept his voice low, clearly misunderstanding. He must have been wondering why Kong Liyuan was playing caretaker.
“No.”
Kong Liyuan’s skin still radiated heat, and she felt too lazy to respond. But she couldn’t stand the misconception.
“I’m the one who came early. Didn’t want to make my assistant work overtime—she won’t arrive until next week.”
The Guide let out an “oh” and yawned. “So the Superstar’s out here in our rugged Northern Border all by herself this time? Won’t that be inconvenient without anyone?”
“Not at all.” Kong Liyuan smiled. “I’m not that delicate.”
The Guide had been keeping his voice down the whole time, and on such a long drive, he probably needed someone to chat with to pass the boredom.
Kong Liyuan knew she couldn’t show a hint of impatience—not even from the fever raging through her. It would make her look like some diva throwing a tantrum.
She thought calmly, coolly.
She lifted her eyelids to peer at the daylight slowly darkening outside the window. Only then did the reality hit her: she was on the road to the Northern Border, with Fu Tingli sleeping soundly beside her, her breathing even.
They were in the same car, headed to Kanas.
Would they see snow together? Of course they would—as long as the trip went smoothly with no mishaps, Fu Tingli would wake up to Northern Border snow.
Once that thought surfaced…
The restlessness from her fever surged sharper, teetering on the edge of losing control.
So when she caught another probing glance from the Guide…
Kong Liyuan tightened her arms around herself and gave a light, unhurried smile. “Besides,” she said softly, “this is just my personal trip.”
