At 2:30 PM, under the blazing sun, Xu Sui and her colleagues sat exhausted after the car ride, looking listless. They tried to communicate with the base supervisor, hoping to move up the originally scheduled 3 PM filming time to now.
They all agreed that finishing early would complete the task sooner.
Base supervisor Wu Fan looked troubled: “Actually, I’m just in charge of reception. I’m not the one who runs things here. The captain and flight attendants are still at headquarters, so I can’t communicate with them either. How about I call our boss to talk to you?”
“Come in and rest first,” Wu Fan said.
Xu Sui and several colleagues entered the break room. Xu Sui looked around and saw a world map hanging in the center of the opposite wall with several red and white magnetic pieces attached to it.
A small five-star red flag hung beside it.
This looked like someone’s temporary office, very simply furnished with just one desk, a black long sofa, a white standing fan, and not even a single potted plant.
Wu Fan poured them tea and said with a smile: “You’ve worked hard. He’ll be here soon.”
A colleague tugged at Xu Sui’s sleeve and complained softly: “I really hope we can finish the classes and filming quickly. I have a date tonight.” Xu Sui smiled slightly but didn’t respond, as her motion sickness aftereffects were really severe.
Moments later, someone walked in from outside. Xu Sui was holding a disposable tea cup and about to take a sip when she saw who it was—scalding tea water splashed a few drops onto her pants.
Zhou Jingze walked in and nodded to each of them, a string of keys dangling from his index finger, swaying gently. Xu Sui’s colleagues perked up upon seeing such a handsome man.
One colleague expressed their idea. Zhou Jingze took two cans of ice cola from the refrigerator and placed them on the coffee table. He sat down, twisted off the cap, took a sip, then looked up and asked: “Want to film earlier?”
The female colleague nodded: “Yes, could you be flexible about it?”
Zhou Jingze put the water bottle on the coffee table, his fingers tapping against the bottle surface. His gaze swept over everyone in the room, pausing briefly when it passed over Xu Sui’s listless, pale face before withdrawing. He raised his brow bone, his tone leisurely:
“No.”
“Ah, why not?” the colleague asked.
“Because the venue doesn’t open before 3 PM,” Zhou Jingze dropped this line.
Wu Fan on the side wiped cold sweat—he couldn’t understand why Zhou Jingze would refuse. Besides, whether it opened or not was just a matter of his word. Couldn’t he speak more tactfully instead of being so unreasonable?
Even a fool could tell this was just an excuse.
Sure enough, he was the famously cold and ruthless demon king.
“Everyone rest,” Zhou Jingze stood up, took the ice water from the table, and walked out.
The room fell silent again. A colleague whispered: “Hey, how can he be like this? So unreasonable.”
Xu Sui shook her head. She didn’t know why Zhou Jingze wouldn’t be flexible. She was too lazy to guess his thoughts. Anyway, there was still half an hour left—she could rest well and relieve her motion sickness aftereffects.
The next second, her phone made a “ding” sound indicating an incoming text. Xu Sui clicked to look—it was from an unknown number: There’s a can of ice cola on the table. Press it against your forehead to feel better.
Xu Sui looked up and saw a can of ice cola placed in front of Zhou Jingze’s vacated seat, tiny water droplets attached to the bottle surface, emitting cold air.
At 3 PM, the captain and flight attendants appeared punctually. Zhou Jingze sat at the runway entrance like a gatekeeper with his thermos cup, giving them clearance.
The co-pilot’s originally serious face immediately brightened when he saw Zhou Jingze. He raised his hand in a fist, Zhou Jingze put down his thermos and fist-bumped him, smiling faintly.
“Long time no see, Captain,” the co-pilot said.
“Tsk, I don’t deserve that title,” Zhou Jingze unwrapped a candy, eyes downcast, the corner of his mouth curving in self-mockery. “I’m just a broken instructor now.”
“Brother, things will get better,” the co-pilot patted his back, then changed the subject. “Unfortunately, isn’t it the 70th anniversary of civil aviation? The captain I partner with went to attend the aerospace flight conference, so I’m afraid I’ll need your help with this filming.”
Before he finished speaking, Zhou Jingze understood what he meant. With an expression that said ‘you’re kidding me,’ he raised his brow bone: “Does China Aviation have no one left? You’re looking for someone with disciplinary violations like me.”
“The fault was never yours,” the co-pilot patted his back. “Don’t worry, we won’t give you too much screen time—just profile shots. The main focus is filming the flight attendants. Just consider it helping a brother out.”
Zhou Jingze was pushed forward, looking casual. He kept one hand in his pants pocket and pointed backward with his index finger. The co-pilot paused, then laughed: “Alright, alright, I’ll buy you the most expensive alcohol next time.”
The two walked toward the airport one after another. From afar, they could see the medical personnel had changed clothes and were observing. Zhou Jingze lifted his eyelids and scanned—Xu Sui was nowhere to be seen among the crowd. She was probably still changing clothes; she was always slow at everything.
Zhou Jingze walked over, and they all turned to greet him. A doctor praised: “This place is so cool. This is our first time visiting.”
The co-pilot humorously replied: “In a while, let Captain Zhou take you up to tour the sky. He flies planes very steadily.”
Everyone laughed, and Zhou Jingze pulled at the corner of his mouth without speaking. This guy was really something—to get his help, he’d put any kind of high hat on him.
There was a “click” sound in front of him. Zhou Jingze looked up to see a female doctor opening a cola. Meeting his gaze, the female doctor felt embarrassed: “Zhou Jingze, thank you.”
“Hmm?” Zhou Jingze was confused.
The female doctor shook the cola and said: “For this. I’ve been wanting something cold to drink. Xu Sui said you left me a can. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Zhou Jingze stiffly pulled at the corner of his mouth.
“I’ll go change clothes first.” He patted his companion’s shoulder.
Zhou Jingze walked toward the changing room with both hands in his pockets, a knot of frustration in his chest that wouldn’t dissipate. He bit his back molars and thought with lowered eyes—Xu Sui was becoming increasingly capable, making him suffer setback after setback.
Inside the airport, the elderly photographer was already in position with his camera. Xu Sui and the others stood waiting for the flight attendants to appear. At four o’clock, a group of young, handsome flight personnel appeared before everyone in crisp uniforms—the men handsome, the women beautiful, very pleasing to the eye.
The co-pilot and chief purser went over to shake hands with each of them. The co-pilot smiled: “Thank you all. We mainly need to train the flight attendants behind me in emergency medical knowledge. The chief purser will cooperate with you throughout.”
Xu Sui nodded: “I’m responsible for CPR, and the obstetrics colleague will teach everyone how to help passengers with emergency childbirth on the plane.”
The chief purser was a very beautiful, intellectual woman. She proactively extended her hand: “Happy cooperation.”
As they were talking, a lazy, indifferent voice interrupted: “Old Zheng, let’s go up first.”
Xu Sui looked up to see Zhou Jingze wearing a dark blue captain’s uniform with four stripes on his shoulders—broad shoulders, narrow waist, bright black eyes, with a gold-trimmed white shirt buttoned up meticulously inside. His prominent Adam’s apple added a touch of restrained desire.
When they were together before, Xu Sui rarely saw him in suits and white shirts. In the blink of an eye, he had transformed from a carefree, unrestrained youth into a man, gaining masculine charm and mature stability.
Xu Sui watched Zhou Jingze walk over and board the cabin, with the co-pilot following closely behind. They were also led onto the plane by the flight attendants.
The plane slowly started up, the fuselage lifted off the ground, soaring toward high altitude. Xu Sui and her colleague sat in the cabin reading magazines. Soon, the plane reached 10,000 meters above ground, flying into the stratosphere.
The flight attendant’s sweet voice announced: “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard China Zhengzheng Aviation. This flight…”
Xu Sui looked out the window. Clouds floated beside them—thin, soft, like white cotton candy. Looking down, they were passing over golden terraced fields, magnificent and spectacular.
The vast landscape was captured in full view.
Fifteen minutes later, the medical personnel began training the cabin crew in emergency rescue knowledge. Xu Sui was responsible for cardiopulmonary resuscitation. Wearing a white coat, she half-knelt on the ground beside a person demonstrating cardiac arrest.
Her voice was calm and decisive: “First, disperse the surrounding crowd to keep air flowing.”
“Second, unbutton the patient’s collar, extend your index and middle fingers together, and check the patient’s carotid pulse,” Xu Sui bent down, her hand about to reach over, “like this—”
The plane suddenly shook violently to the right. Xu Sui’s speech was interrupted, and she almost lost control and fell backward. She had to demonstrate again.
“Place your left palm firmly against the chest, interlock both hands, keep elbows straight, and press firmly,” Xu Sui’s movements were skilled and focused as she knelt beside the patient. “Press repeatedly thirty times.”
Xu Sui placed both hands on the patient’s chest and had barely pressed ten times when the plane jolted, causing strong turbulence. She couldn’t maintain her kneeling position and fell to one side in front of all the crew members and colleagues.
Her hair scattered, her hair tie dropped and rolled under some seat.
Very embarrassing.
Making a fool of herself in public, Xu Sui felt her face burning. She pretended to be composed as she got up, catching a glimpse of the cameraman trying not to laugh, even his camera shaking.
Next, Xu Sui demonstrated three emergency CPR methods, but at crucial moments, the plane would either sway left or tilt right. Her work was interrupted multiple times. Such repeated disruption would test anyone’s patience, no matter how good their temper.
Xu Sui suddenly remembered Zhou Jingze looking at her when he boarded the plane—that look seemed somewhat menacing. Could it be that because she had repeatedly refused Zhou Jingze’s goodwill, he was deliberately seeking revenge? After all, he was the captain, and in the sky, wasn’t he controlling everything?
As she was lost in thought, the plane shook violently again, as if the nose deliberately made a slow circle. Xu Sui couldn’t stand steady and bumped into the door panel.
When other colleagues took their turns, the plane became incredibly stable.
…
After the plane landed, everyone disembarked one after another and chatted for a while. The two captains stayed in the cockpit to check all equipment before being the last to leave.
They came out one after another. Colleagues and on-site staff applauded, all praising Zhou Jingze’s skills and saying they felt very safe flying with him.
Amid all the praise, Xu Sui remembered the particularly turbulent moments during her turn on the plane and smiled as she said: “Really? It was quite shaky just now. I think Captain Liu flew better.”
“Haha, Doctor Xu has a discerning eye,” the co-pilot said with a smile.
Zhou Jingze’s gaze fixed on her, looking straight at her with a somewhat dark expression. The co-pilot stood right beside them, seeming to sense the undercurrent between the two.
Quite interesting—this was the first time he’d seen Zhou Jingze getting worked up while holding back from exploding.
Rare sight.
The crowd gradually dispersed as the photographer called them for photos. Xu Sui lagged behind alone, with Zhou Jingze slowly following. He had taken off his jacket and slung it over his broad shoulders, one hand in his pants pocket as he passed her.
As he brushed past her, Zhou Jingze looked down at her, his dark eyes carrying a hint of frivolity and roguishness: “The shaking earlier was due to air currents. Also, don’t you have the most say in whether my skills are good or not?”
Xu Sui felt her face temperature spike with a “boom.” She glared at Zhou Jingze—how could this person be so brazen, able to say such things in public without blushing or missing a heartbeat?
Now it was Xu Sui’s turn to stride quickly forward.
The photographer arranged for the doctors to stand in front of the plane for a group photo. The four doctors in white coats positioned themselves at the same angle and looked toward the lens.
Da Long shouldered the camera and “clicked” several shots in succession. He looked closely at the playback on the camera, always feeling something wasn’t quite right.
“Boss, take a look—is there something wrong?” Da Long moved the camera in front of Zhou Jingze.
Zhou Jingze glanced over, his gaze stopping on the second girl from the right. Her pupils were dark as ink, her lips a light shade of red. Just a faint smile revealed dimples.
He raised an eyebrow: “What’s wrong? Isn’t it pretty?”
“You straight man wouldn’t understand.” Da Long punched his chest.
Da Long studied it for a long time, then had an epiphany and discovered the issue: “Doctor Xu, could you tie up your hair? It would look more uniform.”
“Me?” Xu Sui was stunned.
Everyone looked over. Xu Sui became the center of attention again. She instinctively reached into her pocket for a hair tie but couldn’t find one no matter how she searched. Unfortunately, her colleagues didn’t have spare hair ties either.
Xu Sui looked somewhat awkward and stepped back. She wasn’t particularly fond of photos or being in the spotlight anyway: “Maybe I shouldn’t—”
The words “be in the photo” stuck in Xu Sui’s throat as a tall figure loomed over her. Zhou Jingze bent down, withdrew his hand from his pants pocket, holding a cream-colored pearlescent hair tie.
In front of everyone, Zhou Jingze showed no hesitation as he lowered his head and seriously began tying her hair.
Xu Sui instinctively wanted to step back, but the man pressed her shoulder, his low voice resonating by her ear: “Don’t move.”
His sharp mint scent hit her nose. Xu Sui’s whole body stiffened as she felt his elbow against her shoulder, his slender fingertips threading through her hair. He tilted his head, not very skillfully sliding down the hair tie to bind her hair. The callus on his thumb brushed against her delicate neck—very lightly—and Xu Sui’s heart contracted sharply.
“Where did you get the hair tie?” Xu Sui raised her eyes to look at him.
If she remembered correctly, this hair tie was hers, and it wasn’t the one that had fallen on the plane.
“Picked it up on the road,” Zhou Jingze’s tone was nonchalant.