Nan Chu gave him a hug, magnanimously saying: “Mm, I know.”
Lin Luxiao scratched his brow, his thoughts instantly thrown into disarray by the little girl hugging him — he nearly forgot what he came to say. Pulling himself together, he drew her out of his arms. “I need to talk to you about something serious.”
Nan Chu smiled. “When have you ever come to me with anything that wasn’t serious?”
The man curved his lips into a mischievous smile, dipped his head, and pecked her on the mouth. Then he lazily leaned back against the wall. “That just now — that wasn’t serious.”
The two of them had been without private time for a good while. On this dark, windy night, shut together in this narrow little space, people in love always find reason to do something. Nan Chu reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck, raised herself onto her toes, and moved in on her own initiative. Before her lips could make contact, Lin Luxiao caught her by the arm and held up a hand to block her. “Don’t — let’s both exercise a little restraint here.”
“You take advantage of me and then play innocent?” Nan Chu released him and gave a cold snort.
Lin Luxiao stopped smiling. He gripped her by both shoulders, bent down, and looked her directly in the eyes with grave seriousness. “Listen carefully to what I’m about to say. You’d better memorize it. Understood?”
Nan Chu nodded. “Go ahead.”
“Tomorrow when you all enter the fire ground, each of you will be issued a walkie-talkie. We covered how to use them in the very first class — do you remember?”
Nan Chu shook her head. “I forgot.”
“…”
Lin Luxiao almost grabbed the mop leaning against the wall nearby and knocked it over her head.
“Were you asleep the whole time in class?”
Nan Chu answered without a trace of shame: “I was looking at you.”
“…”
Strange. That threw him off completely.
Lin Luxiao squeezed her cheeks firmly. “I’ll go through it again tomorrow. Keep your eyes off the men — understood?”
Nan Chu nodded eagerly, then couldn’t resist trying to sneak a kiss, only to be pushed back by the palm Lin Luxiao pressed against her forehead. He raised his brows and lectured her: “I’m talking to you. Listen properly. Stop pawing at me.”
Seeing his utterly serious expression, Nan Chu finally settled down.
“The walkie-talkie they give you tomorrow — memorize these numbers. 119.234 is the public channel; everyone can hear it. 119.521 is the split channel. Set it to Channel 2 — only the two of us can hear each other on that one. If you run into trouble, call for me on Channel 2. Understood?”
Nan Chu mulled it over for a moment, then broke into a radiant smile. “521 — what are you trying to say?”
Lin Luxiao scratched his brow. “Nothing. I picked it at random.”
“Please. You’re playing dumb.”
“Do you understand?”
“Yes, yes — now come on, give me a kiss.” Nan Chu raised herself on her toes and leaned in.
Lin Luxiao held her by the forehead and set her straight again. “This is serious. A fire ground is not a game. Even in a simulation, it’s genuinely dangerous. The shockwave from an oil tank explosion is immense. I’ve taught you all before how to buy yourself time — once you miss the optimal window, get out immediately. Stay inside after that and you’re just a casualty waiting to happen. Understand?”
Even knowing it was all for a television program, oil tanks didn’t discriminate. And this lot were all newcomers — there was no telling what chaos they might stir up.
“You’re worried about me. You’re afraid I’ll die?” The little girl’s eyes lit up.
Lin Luxiao: “Wipe that grin off your face.”
Nan Chu suddenly reached out and wrapped her arms around his solid waist, rubbing her fluffy head against his chest. “And you — you need to stay safe too. Don’t go getting yourself killed so easily.”
A long moment passed. From above her head came a lazy sound: “Mm.”
Lin Luxiao leaned against the wall and folded his arms around her in return. Two silhouettes, intertwined.
That night seemed to stretch out endlessly.
……
As it turned out, unit leadership had come down in person to observe the competition. Lin Luxiao had just finished leading everyone through the morning drill when he saw two military vehicles pull in through the gate. Meng Guohong stepped out alongside several other leaders from the department. Yang Zhidao came rushing over in a fluster. “Hurry up — Chief Meng is here.”
Lin Luxiao went over and gave a military salute. “What brings you here, sir?”
Outside the military vehicles, a row of perfectly straight uniforms — the formation was grander than a typical full-scale assembly. Meng Guohong gave a light snort. “Do I need to file a report with you before I can come?”
Lin Luxiao looked sheepish. The old man’s tongue was getting sharper with age.
Yang Zhidao led the visitors inside. Xu Ya appeared from somewhere at the rear and positioned herself at Meng Guohong’s side, leaving Lin Luxiao alone at the back with the handful of others — they were all lined up against him, it seemed.
He could let that go.
But at lunch, Meng Guohong said to Lin Luxiao: “The investors behind this program will be visiting the set this afternoon. Tell the sentry to let them through.”
Lin Luxiao lounged in his chair with a toothpick dangling from his lips. “So my place has turned into a tourist attraction now?”
Meng Guohong shot him a look. “It’s the last episode. Let them do a set visit, get it filmed, and wrap things up sooner. These past few days my heart hasn’t been sitting right.”
Lin Luxiao: “You’ve been unsettled too, sir?”
Meng Guohong slammed his chopsticks down, jaw set, brows furrowed: “And who do you think caused it?”
Lin Luxiao gave an indifferent shrug. At the neighboring table, the new recruits were eating. Meng Guohong’s gaze swept past, landed briefly on Nan Chu, then he lifted his chin and gave a meaningful look — that girl?
Lin Luxiao had the toothpick pressed to the corner of his mouth. He nudged it slightly, said nothing.
Meng Guohong gave a cold snort. “You’ve got nerve. I always thought you saw things differently from other people — turns out you’re just as shallow as the rest. You can’t escape those base male instincts. Do you think the two of you actually make sense? You’re out here in the wind and the rain every day — you think she can hold on? What is going on inside that head of yours?”
Lin Luxiao removed the toothpick. “Go ahead and lecture me, sir. Maybe a few more rounds of that will knock some sense into me.”
Meng Guohong was so furious he nearly flung his bowl. “What the hell — has someone brewed you a love potion?”
Whether or not such a thing existed, one had to wonder — when exactly had that girl slipped it to him?
……
That afternoon, pre-competition training. The leadership sat in a row. Nan Chu had never imagined she would encounter that young Master Jiang at the fire station.
Jiang Ge stood under the shade of a tree in a crisply pressed suit, two servants holding parasols flanking him — every inch the rich young scion. His gaze fixed on Nan Chu without wavering.
Yan Dai glanced at Nan Chu, then remarked with cold sarcasm: “Your financier is here.”
The headline from over half a month ago was still fresh in everyone’s memory — an eighteenth-tier small-time model and Jiang Family’s second young master had been stopped by police after a late-night street race. The official statement had twisted the facts, darkly implying she’d hooked up with Jiang Ge and suggesting he was the money behind her. Nan Chu curled the corner of her mouth and shot Yan Dai a cool look. “Mind your own business.”
Lin Luxiao was working his way down the line inspecting equipment.
When he reached Nan Chu, he grabbed her waist belt and fastened it one notch tighter. Keeping his head low, speaking through barely parted lips: “Keep your eyes to yourself. Remember what I told you.”
Nan Chu snapped him a crisp, proper military salute, her features bright and pretty.
Lin Luxiao was caught off guard and couldn’t help a crooked smile. “You cheeky thing.”
Under the shade of the tree, Jiang Ge watched Nan Chu with unblinking attention. His assistant leaned in. “Young master, should we get out of here? If one of those things blows and catches you, that’s no joking matter.”
Jiang Ge kept smiling, eyes still on Nan Chu. “Go get me a walkie-talkie from the production team.”
The assistant hesitated. “Uh — what do you want one of those for?”
Jiang Ge shot him a look. “You ask too many questions. Want me to find someone to sew your mouth shut?”
The assistant knew his young master’s temperament — competitive to a fault, loved to go against the grain, would follow through on even the most outrageous ideas once he’d said them aloud. He gave a full-body shudder and went off to carry out the order.
……
The simulated training exercise officially began. The six celebrity contestants, suited up in full gear with oxygen tanks strapped to their backs, stood in a row across the open wasteland before them. Yang Zhenggang read out the competition rules once more.
“I’ve divided you into groups — three to a group. Each group must rescue nine mannequins. There are eighteen mannequins total inside; the mannequins will vary in weight and are scattered across different zones. The total fire ground area is three hundred and fifty square meters. At any given point, there’s the possibility of an oil tank explosion — you’ll need to use your own judgment. Final point: stay safe. Don’t try to be heroes. If you can’t hold on, call for rescue on the walkie-talkie and report your position — our standby soldiers will come in after you at any moment. Now, I’ll announce the group assignments: Xu Ya, Mu Ze, Zheng Ping — Group One. Yan Dai, Nan Chu, Liu Xiao Han — Group Two.”
When the names were called, Nan Chu instinctively glanced over at Lin Luxiao. He was gripping his walkie-talkie, his expression cool and blank, giving nothing away.
She adjusted the oxygen tank on her back and followed the group heading inside, not looking back once. Her slight figure disappeared into the building entrance just like that.
The fire ground was on the fifth floor — the same one they used for routine simulation drills. The walls and stairwell entrances were all coated in thick black soot; the floor was littered with collapsed stone pillars and twisted steel pipes in complete disorder. By the time they climbed to the fourth floor, the walkie-talkie hanging at their shoulders crackled to life.
“This is Jiang Ge. Can you hear me?”
Everyone stopped. Liu Xiao Han pulled the walkie-talkie from his shoulder and responded: “Loud and clear, Director Jiang.”
Jiang Ge: “Let Nan Chu speak.”
Liu Xiao Han glanced at Nan Chu. Nan Chu ignored it. Liu Xiao Han shoved the walkie-talkie in her direction.
Jiang Ge waited a short while, then heard a very languid voice from inside: “What do you want?”
This woman was absolutely bewitching.
Jiang Ge’s spirits instantly shot up. He leaned into the walkie-talkie: “Go win it. Win and I’ll give you—”
Everyone was pressing their ears close, waiting for the rest.
But Jiang Ge’s voice was suddenly cut off, replaced by a crisp, cold one, bristling with suppressed anger: “Are you in there playing around?! Who the hell told you to stop?!”
Lin Luxiao finished his shout and had the walkie-talkie taken out of Jiang Ge’s hand. Jiang Ge studied him for a long moment, then asked the assistant standing beside him: “Who’s that?”
The assistant replied: “The company commander here.”
Jiang Ge was incredulous. “A company commander is that full of himself?”
The assistant had the manner of a walking encyclopedia — whatever you asked, he’d have an answer, delivered smoothly and without pause: “Indeed. I’ve heard he’s always been like this. He has a close friend you’d probably know, sir — Shen Mu. According to Director Shen, this friend of his is not someone to cross. He was raised in the courtyard from childhood — a few senior figures dote on him enormously. The man seated in the center there is the head of the security affairs department, and that one over there from the combat training division — they all treat him like a son.”
Jiang Ge turned this over in his mind. He suddenly recalled the night of the street race — at the police station, hadn’t Nan Chu been with this very man?
……
The fire inside wasn’t all that intense, but the temperature was brutal. The smoke was thick and dense, visibility near zero — moving forward even a step was a struggle.
Liu Xiao Han discovered the first mannequin near an oil tank. The mannequin was weighted to simulate an actual person — at the very minimum, it had to weigh eighty catties. Liu Xiao Han heaved it onto his shoulder and pulled Nan Chu along. “Stay close. Don’t fall behind. Let’s get this one to the exit first, pile them at the door, and haul them all out at once when we’re done.”
By the time they’d dragged out the sixth mannequin, Liu Xiao Han was exhausted. He wiped a forehead full of sweat and soot with his arm, then looked back at Nan Chu — the little girl with the protective goggles still on, the exposed lower half of her face a smudged mess of black and grey. He couldn’t help but laugh. More than half the time had elapsed; the oil tank explosion point was approaching. The seventh mannequin was pinned behind the oil tank cluster, fire hissing and scorching the air around it. The walls were streaked with cracks from the heat. The temperature gauge on the oxygen tank already read over eighty degrees. The fire ground had become a natural sauna. Nan Chu made a hand signal to Liu Xiao Han — this one, I’ll go.
She stepped toward the oil tank.
Lin Luxiao’s voice came through Channel 2. “How many so far?”
“Six.” Nan Chu moved steadily toward the oil tank, her foot occasionally catching on a strip of metal or a wooden rod — a creak, a jolt to the heart. She tried to ease her own tension by keeping up the conversation with Lin Luxiao: “Is Channel 2 really just the two of us?”
A low affirmation from the other end.
The oil tank was right ahead of her now. Thick smoke billowed behind her; crimson flames burned steadily. A pale white arm of a mannequin protruded from behind the rear support column.
“How high does the temperature usually get in your fire grounds?”
“Anywhere from several dozen degrees to several hundred. It’s higher near the ignition source. Watch your head.”
Barely had the words left his mouth when a crossbeam crashed down right in front of Nan Chu, snapping in two, sending up a cloud of dust and ash. Nan Chu gasped and flung herself flat on the ground, getting a mouthful of ash. When she came to her senses again, she heard a low chuckle through the earpiece: “Told you to be careful.”
“Are you watching the display screen?” Nan Chu got up and dusted herself off.
Lin Luxiao had his eyes fixed on the monitor, cool as anything. He drawled: “Big brother here can calculate it.”
Nan Chu made her way behind the oil tank. The smoke was suffocating; she gave a light cough and rubbed her nose. She stretched out the syllable teasingly: “Ohh—”
Lin Luxiao bent over the screen, expressionless, and gave a low sound of acknowledgment. He watched as the figure on screen dragged the mannequin from behind the oil tank and struggled to haul it onto her shoulder. The mannequin was already heavy, and the little girl clearly hadn’t expected just how heavy — it nearly flattened her to the ground. She scrambled back up, and through the earpiece he heard her muttering under her breath, complaining that this particular one had to be at least a hundred and twenty catties.
For some reason, the sound of her voice struck him as unbearably endearing. Lin Luxiao rubbed the tip of his nose with one finger, bowed his head, and smiled without a word.
After a short silence, Nan Chu said deliberately: “Liu Xiao Han was just grabbing my hand, by the way.”
“Mm. I’ll chop it off him later.” His voice was a little careless, offhand — and yet unmistakably, genuinely serious.
The little girl’s laughter trickled through Channel 2.
“Commander Lin,” Nan Chu said quietly after a while, “do you really, really like me?”
Lin Luxiao gave a slow smile and didn’t respond. Then someone clapped him on the back. He turned — it was Xu Ya. He let the smile drop. “Something you need?”
Xu Ya gave him a cool look and jerked her thumb back. “Chief Meng is asking for you.”
Lin Luxiao glanced over. Meng Guohong’s eyes were fixed on him with an unblinking, direct stare.
He rehung the walkie-talkie on his shoulder and walked over, snapping to attention. “Yes?”
Meng Guohong looked at him with a dark, hawk-like expression, then pointed his gaze at the walkie-talkie on Lin Luxiao’s shoulder. “Hand it over.”
……