Chapter 58

*The World Is Sinking, and We Are in Love*
Qin Sang had a gash on her arm. The crew had only done a simple disinfection on set; in the dark you couldn’t really see it clearly. Now that she had taken off her clothes, she could see it properly: the scrape was fairly serious, and some parts hadn’t even been cleaned. There was still grit and sand stuck in the wound.
She sat curled up on the sofa, legs drawn in, head lowered as she quietly watched him clean her wound. When the iodine washed over it, the pain made her face go pale and her features twist. She was usually good at enduring pain, but this time she couldn’t hold it in; she softened her tone and said in a small voice, “It really hurts.”
“Just bear with it.” Xie Yuncheng’s expression was grave, but his hands were as light as possible, afraid of hurting her. Only after carefully disinfecting it did he apply medicine and bandage her arm. “Tomorrow I’ll go with you to a clinic, just in case it gets infected.”
“You’ll still be here tomorrow?”
Qin Sang gently tugged at his sleeve, looking up at him. Her gaze was very fragile.
Xie Yuncheng paused, then helplessly shook his head. “I can only stay fourteen hours. I have to leave by tomorrow afternoon at the latest.”
He had turned back midway. From Zhou Yihong he’d learned that the crew would soon come to the northwest to finish shooting the remaining scenes. He’d compressed his schedule and rushed over in a hurry—just to see her once.
Qin Sang understood he was not free to do as he wished. It was already hard enough for him to manage coming to see her. Still, she couldn’t help feeling disappointed. Her mood sank. “Got it.”
But she quickly tightened her grip again, her pale, slender hand clutching at his sleeve. Only a floor lamp was lit in the room; the warm yellow light was dim. She wore only a thin nightdress so it would be easier for him to handle her wound. Her eyes were moist, her frame thin and frail, like a piece of porcelain that could shatter at a touch.
Xie Yuncheng didn’t move; he let her hold on, looking down at her quietly. It had only been two months since they’d seen each other, yet it felt like she’d changed completely. Her once-long, smooth hair had been cut into an over‑ear bob, broken ends hiding her small earlobes. Her face looked as pale and clear as frosty moonlight.
“Hold me, okay?”
Her tone was low, and she looked especially fragile. “I fell today—it really hurt. Everything hurts. If you hold me and comfort me a bit, maybe it won’t hurt so much.”
Xie Yuncheng’s gaze rippled. He bent down and gently wrapped her in his arms. She leaned against his shoulder without speaking, as if she were very tired.
In the quiet room, it seemed only their heartbeats remained, drumming on without rest. The crisscrossing light outlined the two figures clinging to each other.
“I missed you so much.”
Her voice was low, thick with loneliness.
Especially today. The moment she fell, she suddenly wanted to see him—wanted to fling herself into his arms and cry her heart out.
Only then did she realize she wasn’t as unbreakable as she’d imagined. She’d just been walking alone for too long. Because she knew only she could carry herself, she didn’t dare look back, didn’t dare stop, didn’t dare show weakness, and didn’t dare tell anyone about her grievances.
But now it felt like she had suddenly found someone for whom she could drop everything. With him, she could cry, make a fuss, feel wronged, and vent.
She didn’t know when it had started, but gradually she’d begun to rely on him. That reliance was a spiritual anchor. Even if she didn’t look back, even if he wasn’t by her side, she knew he was there.
If one day she really couldn’t go on, he would take her hand and walk the rest of the road with her, no matter how uncertain and rugged the path ahead might be. He would never let go.
“Do I look good like this?”
She’d hesitated at first when they said she had to cut her hair short. But after cutting it, she felt it actually looked pretty good. Right now, though, she was sure she looked terrible. She’d been busy all day, in a complete mess from head to toe. Her hair was a tangled disaster. She had no image at all—she must look awful.
“You look good.”
Xie Yuncheng stroked her cheek; his fingers brushed over the broken strands by her ear. His brows and eyes were soft with a gentle smile. “Very cute.”
He’d never seen Qin Sang with short hair before. It was even better than he’d imagined—a clean, refreshing kind of beauty, full of vitality. Even her usually downcast, affectionate eyes seemed brighter. For a moment he was dazed, reminded of the little Easter‑egg at the end of the movie: the sea breeze lifting, the hanging wind chimes chiming softly, and the eighteen‑year‑old her, holding a bouquet of sunflowers under thin yet clear sunlight, smiling brightly—so clean she seemed untouched by dust.
His gaze deepened. His Adam’s apple rolled abruptly. Without meaning to, he leaned in and cupped her delicate face, kissing her with unusual depth and feeling.
Qin Sang took the initiative to wrap her arms around his neck. Her injured hand hung down; the uninjured one buried itself in his hair.
“Let’s… do it,” she panted, frankly voicing what she really wanted at that moment. “I want to really have you.”
“Your arm?”
Xie Yuncheng’s voice was hoarse.
Qin Sang shook her head and hooked her arms around his neck to kiss him. “It’s fine, as long as you don’t touch it. It won’t get in the way.”
He kissed her for a while, waiting until her breath had gone uneven, before smoothly lifting her from the sofa. Her legs locked around his waist. In an almost impossible position, she hung her head and kissed him. When the short ends of her hair fell, they tickled the corner of his eye—itchy—but right now no one could care about that.
He kicked the single sofa aside, one hand supporting the back of her thigh as he set her down as lightly as possible, carefully avoiding her injured arm. He drew back a little, but Qin Sang, already teased into dazedness, instinctively leaned up again, like someone parched for a long time, driven only by the urge to find his lips.
She stared at him, eyes unfocused. He was only wearing a thin knit sweater. He grabbed the hem and pulled it off in one motion.
She wasn’t unfamiliar. They’d had a chance to “study” him before, so she knew every inch of his body well. She just hadn’t looked this closely back then. There was no fat on his waist and abdomen, the lines on both sides of his waist were deep. She hadn’t known muscles tensed like that could explode with such startling strength—it took almost no effort for him to hoist her up with one hand, half‑holding, half‑lifting her higher.
Maybe he was afraid of pressing on her arm, so he adjusted his posture. His elbow braced beside her as he supported himself, the lines of his arm muscles standing out clearly. His kisses were more forceful than usual, his breath more aggressive, making the corners of her eyes burn red. Her voice shook; she couldn’t keep a steady pitch and could only let out a few broken sounds.
After a long time, he held himself up and looked down at her. His eyes were deep, like spreading ink. He stroked her face; his fingers brushed across the damp strands stuck to her cheek. His voice was low and husky. “Is this okay?”
He was still asking—still seeking her final consent.
Qin Sang’s face was flushed. At some point a layer of mist had gathered in her eyes. After a long while, she bit her lip lightly. Her hesitation lasted only a moment before she nodded slightly. “Mm.”
The winter in the northwest was cold. The first snow fell silently, flakes swaying down to quietly cover the ground in white.
The curtains in the hotel room were heavy and thick, blocking out almost all light. Only a thin gap remained. Qin Sang’s head was spinning; she felt like a fish drowning in water, swept up and rolled over by towering waves.
When the next wave crashed down, she clung tightly to that plank of escape, gasping for breath. Her fingernails scraped across the firm lines of his back. She bit her lip hard, until her gaze went out of focus into a hazy white. The arches of her feet tensed and drew tight. That strange supporting force made her whole body tremble uncontrollably. She didn’t even know whether she was too cold or too hot—her sense of her own body seemed to have gone haywire. Her thin shoulder blades curled in, her neck arched back, taut like a bow.
The bowstring had been drawn too tight; when it snapped, her mind went blank. Her vision blurred into countless overlapping shadows. In that chaos of crisscrossing light, she saw that face clearly.
She couldn’t help raising her hand, fingertips brushing over his brows, his nose, and finally landing on his lips. The warm touch reminded her that this was real—that she wasn’t dreaming.
In one night, the northwest entered winter. Ten thousand miles of snow spread like silver frost; heaven and earth became a single vast white, as if it could cleanse the soul.
Most of the crew were southerners. Forget such grand snowy scenery—many of them had never even seen real snow before. When they woke and saw nothing but white outside the window, the excitable ones were already howling as they rushed out of the hotel to mess around in the courtyard.
Xiaoxiao had never seen snow either. She’d gone to university in the south and had grown up there. Later, following Qin Sang all over the country, she’d rarely had time to stop and rest.
Holding back her excitement, she only took a few photos, then went upstairs to wake Qin Sang. She knocked on the door. “Sang-sang, are you awake?”
After a while, the door opened. The person who stepped out was tall and slender, dressed in a white sweater. He looked especially clear and gentle.
Xiaoxiao was stunned. Pointing at him, she stammered, “Y‑you… Mr. Xie… why are you here?”
Xie Yuncheng clearly had no intention of answering that question. He only smiled politely. “Sorry, she’s not awake yet. Could you come back in half an hour?”
Xiaoxiao felt like her CPU was about to burn out. Her mind went fuzzy. “Oh…”
A moment later, the door closed again. Xiaoxiao leaned against the wall in a daze for a long time.
So that was it…
So Sang-sang’s boyfriend was actually Mr. Xie?!
She sucked in a sharp breath. It felt like she’d just eaten a shocking piece of gossip. She was so excited she could hardly stand it—but she couldn’t tell anyone and could only swallow it down. As she left, she bit hard into the back of her hand, forcing herself to tamp down the restless thrill.
Qin Sang was actually already awake—she just didn’t want to get up. She lay on her side with her face buried deep in the pillow, lazy and unwilling to open her eyes.
After a long time, she finally struggled to lift her lashes. The man bent down and kissed her forehead. “Do you want to get up?”
Qin Sang leaned over to kiss his lips, then smiled in satisfaction and held out her arms as if it were a matter of course. “Carry me. I don’t have any strength.”
Xie Yuncheng picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. After she washed up, she sat on the vanity while he helped blow her hair dry. Watching his figure in the mirror, thinking about how their time together was already counting down, she suddenly felt a little lost. “Classmate Xie, what should I do—I kind of don’t want to let you go.”