So Kong Liyuan reached out herself. Her soft fingertips traced along Fu Tingli’s jawline, pressing and stroking ever so lightly.
The touch burned hot, like an electric shock.
They were so close, and Kong Liyuan’s scorching breath mingled with it, along with her long, disheveled hair brushing against Fu Tingli’s ears and neck.
Fu Tingli’s own temperature skyrocketed. The pain in her chin eased under that gentle pressure.
Another bump jolted the car. The guide up front stayed quiet this time, lost in thought. Fu Tingli coughed and pulled back, putting some distance between her and Kong Liyuan.
Kong Liyuan was still smiling.
Without a word, Fu Tingli pressed the thermometer to Kong Liyuan’s forehead. It beeped, and the little screen lit up with a glaring number.
“Thirty-eight point nine!”
The car lurched, and so did Fu Tingli’s voice. Ignoring the guide up front, she reached out urgently to feel Kong Liyuan’s forehead with her hand.
She figured the device might be faulty. But no—her palm came away scorching hot.
“You’re burning this high and you didn’t say anything?”
“I took some medicine,” Kong Liyuan said, her voice drifting even fainter.
She glanced at her. “I told you.”
Right—she’d told everyone else, just not her. Fu Tingli didn’t know why that made her a little angry. But on second thought, she was the last person who needed telling.
Whatever connection they’d had, Kong Liyuan had severed it that very night. She’d said it herself:
She wasn’t going to Los Angeles tonight.
That realization made Fu Tingli’s anger dissipate like smoke, leaving only a sour ache she couldn’t quite explain.
She turned to the guide up front. “Can we head straight to a hospital?”
“Not sure.”
The guide glanced back through the rearview mirror. For some reason, his expression had grown much graver.
“Better stick with the main group to the destination for now. Once the snow lets up, we can hit a local clinic.”
“Is the snow that bad?”
“Pretty bad. Look at the visibility—can’t even see the road. It’s all a white blur out there. Super dangerous.”
Fu Tingli peered out the window.
Sure enough. The car had veered a bit further north now, and not only was the snowfall heavier, but the snowdrifts outside looked even thicker.
A glance back showed a mess of tire tracks. An inexplicable unease swept over her.
She was about to say something else.
Then.
A blazing heat settled over the back of her hand. She froze for a second and looked down. It was Kong Liyuan’s soft palm covering hers.
Her hands always got cold in winter, no matter what. Yet Kong Liyuan’s were frighteningly hot right now.
One cold, one hot, meeting like that.
Something seemed to melt away silently between them. The heavy snow battered the windows outside, draping a thin veil over everything around.
Their clasped hands burned a hole right through that veil.
And just like that, the sweltering, carefree summer flooded out uncontrollably, spilling everywhere.
She couldn’t help remembering—on that second California summer night, Kong Liyuan had held her hand just like this, kicked away those blond thugs, and led her charging wildly down several streets. Laughing, she’d said, I won’t let you hurt.
By all rights, Fu Tingli should have pulled her hand away immediately. But looking at Kong Liyuan’s slightly furrowed brow, as if she were in discomfort, her flushed face, the sweat beading around it…
There was no way she could let go of that hand—the one that had pulled her from the scorching summer night and the brink of danger.
Instead, she gripped Kong Liyuan’s scalding fingertips in return, hiding their joined hands behind her back.
Out of sight of the guide up front.
Kong Liyuan must have sensed the movement. She didn’t open her eyes but let out a faint chuckle, her voice soft as she said,
“See the snow?”
“Don’t talk. Just rest,” Fu Tingli said, unwilling to answer.
“See the snow?” Kong Liyuan asked again.
Fu Tingli paused for a few seconds, her gaze shifting from Kong Liyuan’s face to the swirling snow outside the window.
She sighed. “I’m not blind. Of course I see it.”
Kong Liyuan smiled faintly again.
It was a shaky situation, and Fu Tingli had no idea what she found so amusing.
But mercifully, Kong Liyuan didn’t lift her eyelids to look at her again. She finally drifted into a deep sleep, sparing Fu Tingli from having her current expression captured.
So she had no way of knowing.
After that, Fu Tingli held Kong Liyuan’s hand gently, watching the snow fall harder outside and the scenery speed by faster. In a soft voice, she said,
“I won’t let anything happen to you.”
The rest of the journey dragged on amid stops and starts. Under Fu Tingli’s watchful eye, the guide drove with exceptional caution. No further issues arose as they gradually reached an open road.
The car grew colder and colder; the heater was losing its battle. But if all went well, they were on the right path—and almost there.
Still, trouble struck anyway.
Fu Tingli hadn’t even caught her breath when the car suddenly halted. It couldn’t go any farther. The vehicles ahead had vanished without a trace. Looking forward and back through the empty snow, theirs was the only one left.
The guide knew he’d messed up. He opened the door and limped out to check the engine and tires.
Fu Tingli wasn’t one to sit idly by. She reached over to feel Kong Liyuan’s forehead—hotter than before.
With utmost care, she draped every available cover over Kong Liyuan.
Then she flung open the door and rushed out, asking bluntly,
“What’s the situation now?”
Outside the car window, snow blanketed everything, feeling like someone was shoveling volleys of flying flakes straight into their faces.
The snow had eased up a little from before, but it still piled in flurries onto the guide’s reddened aquiline nose.
The guide fiddled with the engine against the wind and snow for a good while before finally throwing in the towel. He slumped against the hood of the car and shook his head.
“The car’s busted. No way it’s going anywhere now. Look around—the roads have those neat rows of streetlights. We’re really almost there. It should’ve been just a half-hour drive, but damn, why’d this have to happen today of all days…”
The snow here at the Northern Border bit deeper than Shanghai’s ever could. It was deep into the night, with not a soul in sight anywhere nearby. Fu Tingli trudged through the pristine snow, her feet already numb and stiff.
She glanced at Kong Liyuan inside the car. They’d just taken her temperature, and it was hovering dangerously close to 104 degrees.
Fu Tingli pulled out her phone, but it had long since shut down from the cold.
Her lips, drained of color by the chill, were now pressed into a tight line.
“What do we do then?”
“Wait it out,” the guide said. “All we can do is wait for the rescue team. Good thing we’ve got a superstar in the car—someone’s bound to notice quick.”
Fu Tingli grew more agitated with every word.
“She’s burning up. We can’t just sit here wasting time. The fever meds aren’t working. Isn’t there anything else we can do?”
The guide peered into the car, his brows knitting together. “Yeah, she really doesn’t look good…”
At least he had a shred of conscience.
Braving the snow, Fu Tingli followed behind him as the guide popped open the car door and fished out a rolled-up tube of paper. He unrolled it slowly—it turned out to be a hand-drawn paper map. Under the car’s headlights, he scanned it for a moment.
“Here.”
His rough finger jabbed at a spot on the map. “Right around here, there’s a little town—not too big, not too small. They ought to have a clinic at least. Anything’s better than rotting in the car.”
“How do we get there?” Fu Tingli let out a breath of relief.
“Car’s toast, obviously. No driving.”
With practiced ease, the guide pointed out a faint path half-buried in the swirling snow.
“But on foot? The snow’s lightened enough that we could tough it out and walk this stretch.”
He turned to Fu Tingli and grinned, baring his teeth. “It’s just two kilometers from here. You game?”
Like she had a choice? She’d risk her life for it.
Fu Tingli clenched her teeth. “Let’s go!”
“You’re actually serious?” The guide looked surprised. “I was just messing with you! Who knows what it’s like up ahead. Two whole kilometers on foot, hauling a sick superstar? That’s pretty damn risky.”
Fu Tingli opened her mouth, about to ask just how risky, but instead she yanked open the car door and slipped back inside.
She saw Kong Liyuan curled up in the seat and took her temperature again. It had broken 104.
Her face looked even more frightening now, her disheveled hair tucked under a black beanie, damp with sweat and plastered stickily to her skin, her brows furrowed tight.
“Give it a minute. See if any cars come by.” The guide climbed in after her and rubbed his hands together.
Fu Tingli pressed her lips together.
She wiped the sweat from Kong Liyuan’s brow, then hopped back out and shut the door. The guide thought she was leaving and honked the horn, sticking his head out the window.
“Hey, where you going!”
But the girl hadn’t gone far. She turned back and yelled at him, “Close the window so she doesn’t catch more wind!”
The guide blinked for a few seconds, muttered under his breath, then rolled up the window. He peered out through the frosted glass.
He watched as the girl crouched down casually and scooped up handfuls of snow with her bare hands.
She sniffed, then walked back over.
Once inside the car, she rummaged around haphazardly until she tore open a face mask and stuffed it full of the snow she’d gathered.
She pushed up the wool beanie on the feverish superstar’s head a bit, pulled out a tissue, and meticulously wiped the superstar’s sweaty face clean. Then she pressed the snow-packed mask to the superstar’s forehead. As the superstar’s color improved a touch, the girl’s furrowed brow eased a fraction.
When the snow in the mask warmed and started to melt, she wiped away the icy water with her sleeve and packed on a fresh one.
The girl’s hands were frozen bright red now. Once the snow melted away with little effect, she went out again and dug up more.
Back and forth she went, in and out of the car.
The guide watched for a while until she geared up for another trip outside. Finally, he couldn’t hold back.
“Still not coming down?”
Fu Tingli paused, then used her own numb fingers to take the temperature again. She stared at the glowing screen and shook her head.
“Nope.”
“This is tricky. Car’s getting colder by the minute.”
The guide sighed, his face full of worry. “It’s late, and no cars have passed in ages. They might’ve closed the roads over there too. If the snow picks up more, we could get hit with a blizzard.”
“We can’t wait anymore?” Fu Tingli fixed him with a stare. “Guide Big Brother, level with me. Is it really just two kilometers? Can we really walk it?”
The guide nodded slowly. “I wouldn’t lie, but…”
He rubbed his nose and pointed to his lame leg.
“But the superstar can’t walk on her own like this. And my leg’s no good for carrying anyone. Plus, she’s a superstar—what if something happens halfway…”
“I’ll carry her. I can do it.”
Fu Tingli cut him off flat.
The guide was speechless. He stared in astonishment at the pale, slender girl before him, his lips moving soundlessly.
Fu Tingli ignored him.
With quick, decisive movements, she wrapped her scarf around Kong Liyuan, shrugged off her own coat, and bundled it onto Kong Liyuan. She buttoned it up tight but left some vents for air.
Fever needed to breathe, but in this frozen wasteland, pure exposure wasn’t safe either.
The guide fell silent and just nodded.
He helped her maneuver Kong Liyuan out and onto her back. Fu Tingli trudged into the snow, bearing Kong Liyuan toward the highway piled high with drifts.
The guide limped alongside, checking the map and leading the way. He glanced at her.
“You holding up?”
Fu Tingli hunched forward and nodded, sweat dripping from her forehead.
Kong Liyuan was lighter than she’d imagined—but her condition was far worse.
All the commotion earlier, and Kong Liyuan hadn’t made a sound, hadn’t stirred, hadn’t even opened her eyes.
She was probably delirious from the fever.
If they’d stayed in the car waiting, who knew how long it would’ve taken—or what the consequences might’ve been.
If it was truly just two kilometers, she’d grit her teeth and carry her through.
Anyway…
Fu Tingli shifted the weight on her back and plodded ahead, each step heavy and deliberate through the Northern Border snow.
Seizing a gust of wind when the guide wasn’t looking, she whispered with great effort,
“I’ll get you out of here. I promise.”
She wasn’t sure if she was saying it to Kong Liyuan or to herself.
The path was rougher going than the main road, and the snow was indeed thickening—nothing like Shanghai’s pathetic flurries.
