Su Zan, hearing this, felt complicated emotions for a moment, unable to distinguish whether Ming Jue’s words were disparaging or insulting.

At this time, the two had already walked to the car.

The underground garage wasn’t spacious, with several rows of parking spaces filled with the crew’s rented commercial vehicles and private cars.

Ming Jue shone his flashlight toward a dust-covered BMW in the corner. The BMW’s wheels were covered with ice, snow, and mud, having long lost their proper shine and luster.

Su Zan looked at the melted snow stains front and back, asking: “This car has traveled quite a distance. Where did you and President Ji come from?”

“Nanjing.” Ming Jue unlocked the car and opened the trunk: “Jiangsu Province had a blizzard, only Nanjing’s airport barely remained open. President Ji changed his ticket at the last minute, catching the last flight, which was delayed over six hours before arriving.”

When the trunk opened, the car’s interior lights came on, like a cluster of drowsy fireflies, casting a faint glow in the corner of the underground garage.

Ming Jue tucked the flashlight into his suit collar, tilting his head to signal Su Zan to set up the folding transport cart.

The latter nimbly unfolded the cart, biting the flashlight’s lanyard, working diligently to load supplies onto the cart.

The BMW’s rear seats were completely folded down, creating most of the space stacked with instant noodles. Su Zan made three trips back and forth before moving all the food and drinking water to the warehouse rented by the production crew.

After locking the door, Su Zan wiped the sweat from his forehead, somewhat exhausted: “Let’s rest and have a smoke.”

Ming Jue was noncommittal. Seeing Su Zan plop down on the stairs, he sat down maintaining an arm’s distance.

Su Zan offered him a cigarette. Ming Jue glanced at it but didn’t take it: “I don’t smoke.”

“Perverted, right? President Ji’s rule?” He bit the cigarette butt, tossing the lighter in his hand a few times: “Mind if I smoke one?”

Ming Jue made a “do as you please” gesture, saying: “President Ji doesn’t smoke or drink, rarely socializes, and doesn’t have the habit of having subordinates block cigarettes and alcohol for him, so I’ve never smoked.”

Seeing this, Su Zan flicked the flame, bit down and took a puff, asking: “How long did it take you and President Ji to get here from Nanjing?”

“Didn’t count.” From when Ji Qinghe temporarily decided to reroute to Nanjing, he had been responsible for coordinating President Ji’s reception, accommodation, and transportation issues locally in Nanjing. The flight was delayed over six hours due to blizzard weather, and all itineraries were completely revised after landing.

Ji Qinghe requested a BMW capable of running on snowy terrain, loaded it with supplies, and headed directly to Wuxi.

The highway surface was icy and slippery. The entire drive after dark was personally handled by Ji Qinghe. Just when they could see their destination was only a dozen kilometers away, the final stretch exiting the highway encountered both diversions and road closures, with vehicles entering the city backed up from the highway all the way to the toll station.

Thinking of this, Ming Jue suddenly remembered something and said: “The highway was blocked, President Ji used some connections to get in early. There’s a truck that departed late and should be stuck on the highway tonight, unable to get in. When the highway reopens tomorrow, I’ll go with you to the toll station to pick it up.”

Su Zan’s cigarette trembled in his hand, nearly burning himself: “There’s another truckload?”

Seeing his shock, Ming Jue hesitated for a moment before answering: “Didn’t you say hundreds of crew members are all drinking the northwest wind? What we just brought in that small car can support at most one meal, right?”

When Su Zan discussed solutions with Shen Qianzhan in the afternoon, he had also mentioned sending production staff to supermarkets to purchase and stockpile food. But most crews in the film city had been there since before New Year, everyone sacrificing the Spring Festival to rush project schedules.

Initially, when heavy snow began falling, many crews filming winter snow scenes were delighted not to need artificial snow, making venue rentals and rush filming unusually lively.

After New Year, with spring not far away, crews departing were extremely few. Everyone was waiting for warmer weather to finish filming early, no one expecting this natural disaster to come so suddenly, with accumulated snow refusing to melt for so long. All crews arriving before and after New Year were trapped in the film base, with supermarkets within five kilometers already completely ransacked.

Otherwise, the production crew wouldn’t have gotten desperate enough to argue with Xiao Sheng today.

Ji Qinghe’s move was obviously timely assistance in the snow. Su Zan even had the heart to deliver Shen Qianzhan to his bed. He bit his cigarette, extending both hands to forcibly grasp Ming Jue: “You and President Ji are simply heaven-sent saviors.”

Ming Jue was also honest. He struggled to withdraw his hands from Su Zan’s palms, saying: “If you want to thank someone, thank Shen Daji—Shen the temptress. If Producer Shen weren’t trapped here, President Ji wouldn’t have traveled over mountains and rivers to come.” After speaking, he raised his wrist, using the dim flashlight to check the time: “It’s getting late. Please trouble Young Master Su to arrange a place to sleep so I can rest my eyes.”

Only then did Su Zan remember that accommodations for Ji Qinghe and Ming Jue hadn’t been arranged yet. After pondering, he asked: “My room has twin beds. Want to make do with me tonight?”

Ming Jue was extremely tired and didn’t mind sharing a room with Su Zan—sleeping anywhere was still sleeping. The tricky part was Ji Qinghe.

Now the hotel rooms were full, truly unable to free up any vacant rooms. It was already past midnight, well into the latter half of the night. Making a big fuss to wake people up and have them vacate rooms was clearly unrealistic.

Su Zan had made his calculations, flicked his cigarette ash, and stood up: “Come on, let’s go back first.”

At the same time, in Shen Qianzhan’s room.

The flashlight’s beam had gradually dimmed after extended use.

Shen Qianzhan held her phone, wanting to send a WeChat message. Finally touching the ice-cold device and seeing the “no signal” display at the top, she suddenly felt the frustration of calling to heaven with no response, calling to earth with no answer.

Her considerations coincided with Su Zan’s.

It was too late now to disturb too many people, and given Ji Qinghe’s status, his appearance here was already very incongruous. To avoid rumors spreading, Ji Qinghe’s presence should be kept as low as possible.

If it were just Ji Qinghe alone, Shen Qianzhan wouldn’t need to consider at all—Su Zan’s twin room next door could perfectly serve to hide her golden-housed lover. But adding Ming Jue, bed space became somewhat insufficient. Having three people squeeze into one room—forget about Ji Qinghe not agreeing, Shen Qianzhan also found it hard to voice.

She was still thinking when Ji Qinghe grasped her hand, pressing her palm against his forehead: “Help me check if my body temperature is high.”

He cooperatively lowered his head slightly, like a devout believer under her palm. His lips lightly pressed together, eyes downcast, in the dim light, the interplay of light and shadow on his facial contours unexpectedly revealed several degrees of lean youthfulness.

Clearly this damn man was two years older than her.

Under her palm, his forehead was slightly warm, his eyelashes brushing against her palm when he blinked, tickling slightly.

Shen Qianzhan looked up, somewhat surprised: “Did you catch cold on the road?”

Only now did she notice that under Ji Qinghe’s long coat, he wore only a thin suit shirt. Because the suit was dark-colored, she hadn’t noticed before.

After the hotel lost power, the room temperature plummeted. Space heaters, warming stoves, and all electrical equipment lost their function, becoming cold as ice cellars. Compared to just outside the window, there was only an extra tile roof for shelter from wind and snow. Besides this, it was no different from the icy world outside.

Shen Qianzhan, disregarding the risk of exposure, half-knelt up and used the back of her hand to feel Ji Qinghe’s forehead again.

He remained cooperative, leaning slightly. Only those eyes, eyelids slightly raised, stared at her unblinkingly.

Perhaps the night was too deep, or perhaps her reason had been clouded tonight, leaving only tender feelings. Ji Qinghe’s eyes behind his frames were deep as wells—at first glance shimmering with water light, when she looked distractedly, his eyes truly reflected her appearance. Looking again, the well was deep as the sea, the bottom covered with hidden reefs, harboring potential dragons, quietly gazing when meeting her eyes, bottomlessly deep.

Her breath caught, feeling a weightless sensation of being drawn into a cliff. It was the same feeling as that day when she inadvertently met his gaze across the surging crowd, wishing she could die beneath him.

The distraction lasted only an instant.

Shen Qianzhan quickly came back to her senses. She withdrew her hand, curled up her legs, half-sitting against the pillow: “Might be a low fever. Need to find a thermometer to measure and confirm. The crew has a medical team…” She paused slightly, saying: “But their capabilities are limited, usually responsible for some external injury treatment.”

As she spoke, she got up from the foot of the bed, completely ignoring the gaze behind her, taking a pullover sweater and long pants from the wardrobe, quickly putting them on: “Equipment isn’t complete, don’t know if there are thermometers and fever medicine.”

Wuxi Film Base had only emerged in recent years. To attract investment, both the film city and local government had introduced policies to attract crews. Surrounding facilities were complete, from hospitals to shopping centers, like a modern, environmentally friendly emerging city.

Usually large crews would have a medical team of two to three people to handle emergencies or basic symptoms. For more serious problems, there was a Class A hospital just three kilometers away, sufficient to cope. But right now, with heavy snow blocking roads and stepping outside meaning ice and snow, movement was extremely difficult.

If the medical team’s regular medications were depleted, the consequences could be immeasurable.

As she recalled which floor and room number the female doctor from the medical team lived in, she put on the hotel’s fabric slippers and went to the bedside to find her phone.

Ji Qinghe had been watching with calm eyes throughout, finally waiting until her composure showed a trace of vulnerability. He imperceptibly curled his lips, grasped her wrist, and pulled her down.

Shen Qianzhan wasn’t paying attention for a moment, stumbling with one knee hitting the bed edge.

Between the two of them, Ji Qinghe always held absolute advantage.

He gripped Shen Qianzhan’s wrist, more forcefully pulling her closer. Close enough to embrace with a reach, he extended his hand to lift her chin, leaning in to look at her.

The distance was too close, the emotions in her eyes completely exposed in his field of vision.

Ji Qinghe parted his lips, his mouth seeming about to touch hers, yet not quite touching, only their breath ambiguously mingling, seemingly there yet not.

He pretended not to know how torturous this action was for her, his other hand falling on her waist, lightly pinching.

As in his memory, her waist softened, half the strength supporting her body drained away, the completely negligible distance between them thoroughly shattered. Shen Qianzhan collided forward, their lips touching.

Ji Qinghe was no longer polite, pressing the back of her neck, meeting her.

Shen Qianzhan was ambushed and felt indignant, but her body’s reaction was much more honest than she was. Her lips kissed by Ji Qinghe tingled slightly, her heart feeling empty, as if heaven and earth were collapsing.

Her remaining rationality still protested, like mountains calling and seas roaring, urging her to push away and resist. She raised her hand, powerlessly lightly hitting his shoulder: “Taking advantage of me again.”

Shen Qianzhan’s lips were being kissed, her words unclear. She was slightly annoyed, but given the disparity in strength, forget about resistance—her struggles were like an ant trying to shake a great tree, only adding to the mood.

Unexpectedly, Ji Qinghe released her, his cool nose tip touching hers, his lips occasionally brushing hers as he spoke: “If I don’t take advantage of you, whose advantage should I take?”

His hand suspended at Shen Qianzhan’s waist pinched imperceptibly, making her whole body go soft. When she seemed boneless, he rubbed his nose tip against hers, slightly raising his head to kiss her nose tip and lip bead: “Hitting and scolding are fine, just letting go isn’t.”

Shen Qianzhan silently glared at him.

Clearly her face bore an angry expression, but being watched by him like this, it was like stepping into an abyss, falling willingly.

She lowered her eyes, asking: “What isn’t fine? Didn’t hear clearly.”

Ji Qinghe pinched her waist, using some force this time. Shen Qianzhan, completely unprepared, made a soft sound, her hand resting on his left shoulder symbolically pushing him: “Embarrassed into anger?”

“Almost can’t hold on anymore.” He kissed her, with laughter in his voice, low and deep: “Producer Shen needs to hurry up and experience it.”

Shen Qianzhan mentally spat, thinking to herself: Damn rogue.

Completely not counting that she had started the verbal sparring first.

She felt she had been too indulgent tonight, her conscience slightly uneasy. Her wrist struggled in his palm, speaking intermittently: “I’ll go… find a thermometer, measure your temperature.”

Ji Qinghe’s lips moved slightly away: “Aren’t you measuring my temperature right now?”

Shen Qianzhan shot him a look. With this sideways glance, Ji Qinghe saw the area from her ear tip to her cheek dyed crimson, glowing with a thin layer of light under the flashlight beam.

His eyes gradually deepened, like solitary fire in April, setting the forest ablaze.