Chapter 57 – Temporary Inn

It was eight in the evening, and the sky outside had already turned pitch black. The windowpanes were dyed inky dark, with thick, heavy clouds drifting beneath the plane. All that could be seen was an endless expanse of darkness.

The cabin was dimly lit. Some passengers had turned on their overhead reading lights, illuminating small patches around their seats. These faint rays did little to brighten the surroundings, instead casting the rest of the area into deeper shadows.

Whether or not to switch on the reading light was up to the individual passenger. Some simply preferred the darkness. Jiang Heng and Shen Fubai were among those who did.

Even at night, the airplane meals remained plentiful. There was no denying that first-class treatment far surpassed that of economy class. With the tray table unfolded, Jiang Heng handed the dinner to Shen Fubai, who was seated inside, and poured him a glass of milk.

Dinner was delicious.

Compared to the top-notch delicacies Shen Fubai had tasted before, this airplane meal was indeed somewhat simple. But relative to the food he would have during the days that followed, this was practically a feast fit for royalty.

Shen Fubai quickly finished his dinner and picked up the glass of milk, intending to down it in one go. Just then, the plane jolted again. Shen Fubai choked, leaning forward as the paper cup slipped from his hands.

As he watched the milk about to spill, Shen Fubai felt a wave of frustration. Changing pants on a plane wasn’t exactly convenient.

Jiang Heng moved faster, catching the paper cup with one hand. He drank the remaining milk, then placed it back onto the tray table.

Shen Fubai let out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness for you.” He didn’t mind Heng Heng drinking his milk, there wasn’t much left anyway.

…Not that.

Jiang Heng looked at him. “Wait.”

Shen Fubai tilted his head. “Huh?”

Jiang Heng leaned over and gently licked the corner of his lips.

Shen Fubai’s entire body quivered.

Although this wasn’t his first kiss with Heng Heng, they were in public! The entire cabin was filled with people, and flight attendants could walk by at any moment. There wasn’t even a legitimate reason for them to do so, like when filming a scene… If they were caught, they’d be in deep trouble!

Heng Heng, you can’t just do as you please because the lighting is dim!

After being kissed by him, Shen Fubai whispered, “No, not here…”

Jiang Heng looked down at him, leaning closer and murmuring softly, “Really not?”

That low, velvety voice was irresistibly seductive.

Shen Fubai capitulated in an instant, almost speaking in a whisper. “Fine. But… just once, no more than that. There are still people around.”

The previous kiss didn’t count. Jiang Heng lowered his head, sealing his lips against Shen Fubai’s in a lingering kiss. Shen Fubai was somewhat distracted, mainly due to the dangerous environment; he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were… cheating.

But soon, he had no time to think about such things. He had said just one kiss, and Jiang Heng indeed gave him just one—without taking a single breath. He kissed him for a long while without breaking for air. Shen Fubai was almost gasping for breath.

This was… in a crowded cabin, in the darkness of the high altitude.

Stop—

Shen Fubai wanted Jiang Heng to stop; he was suffocating, but he couldn’t speak.

Shen Fubai accidentally brushed against the paper cup on the table, causing a slight noise.

Someone immediately looked over.

Shen Fubai froze, clinging to Jiang Heng’s shoulder without daring to move.

Their location was quite secluded, and since the lights were off, from the outside, it merely appeared as a dark spot where two indistinct figures could barely be seen. However, Shen Fubai felt nervous, wishing he could bury himself like an ostrich in Jiang Heng’s arms, allowing his towering physique to shield him completely.

Jiang Heng stood the empty paper cup upright, his tone casual. “Be more careful, don’t spill the milk.”

The gaze directed at them retracted.

Shen Fubai slumped half-soaked in Jiang Heng’s embrace, not daring to take a deep breath. He peeked out from Jiang Heng’s shoulder, “We weren’t discovered, right?”

“No,” Jiang Heng wiped Shen Fubai’s lips with a tissue. “Yours tastes better.”

At first, he had noticed milk stains on the corner of Shen Fubai’s lips and wanted to help wipe them away—for although the light was dim, given how close he was to Shen Fubai, he could see clearly enough unless he was blind.

However, upon reflection, rather than letting a tissue benefit from this, it was better for him to personally erase this trace for Fubai.

Following the toy bear, Jiang Heng’s list of jealousy now included another outrageous member—a napkin.

Shen Fubai immediately straightened up, collapsing back into his chair. “You scared me to death.”

“I didn’t know you were so timid before,” Jiang Heng chuckled. “Don’t be afraid, it was pretty dark just now, they couldn’t see us.”

Shen Fubai mumbled, “I’m also afraid of the dark.”

Jiang Heng’s smile faded slightly, recalling the unlit staircase at the Wine Restaurant, where Shen Fubai seemed to exhibit an extraordinary fear of the dark.

Shen Fubai added, “But I’m not afraid when you’re here.”

Jiang Heng hummed. “Fubai is very brave.”

Shen Fubai remarked, “Why do I feel like you always treat me like a kid?” They were only two years apart, after all.

Jiang Heng replied, “I can spoil you like my own son.” He had been chasing after Shen Fubai since he was sixteen, witnessing his growth along the way. Sometimes, he really did resemble an old father worrying endlessly.

Shen Fubai took it as a joke. “Do you really like kids that much?” He felt a bit apprehensive. “Now that we’re together…we won’t have children in the future.”

Deep down, Shen Fubai still retained a youthful sense of recklessness, believing he could accomplish anything. But he couldn’t bear children. Although there were many birth-giving stories in novels, such technology didn’t exist yet in reality.

For the time being, both of them were young and carefree, but what about later? Would their families agree?

“I do like children.” When Jiang Heng spoke these words, Shen Fubai tensed up, his heart leaping in his throat.

“But it’s different from liking you.” Jiang Heng clasped his hand. “I like you, the kind of liking that doesn’t need children. I can live without children, but I can’t live without you, understand?”

Jiang Heng adored cute, soft children, but no child in the world could surpass Shen Fubai’s charm. God knew that when Shen Fubai, half-asleep, leaned against him, whispering sweet nothings and acting coquettishly, fueled by Jiang Heng’s adrenaline, the plane could soar higher, transforming into an aircraft carrier piercing through the clouds.

His words were convoluted, yet not hard to comprehend. Shen Fubai felt as though he was listening to a riddle, struggling to digest the meaning.

Heng Heng treated him too well. So well that it always seemed unreal. How did he get so lucky to earn the favor of his idol?

It was truly like manna from heaven, leaving him dazed and disoriented.

Before the plane landed, Jiang Heng said to Shen Fubai, “Fubai, believe in me, and believe in yourself.”

There was no need to be plagued by insecurities, for I love you, and the universe bears witness to this undeniable truth.

By the time they disembarked, it was already late, around ten o’clock. For the nocturnal partygoers who revelled throughout the night, this hour was still early. In large cities, the streets remained bustling with traffic and neon lights flickered at nine in the evening. However, this quiet town had already fallen into slumber, with the airport being the only place still illuminated, while the residential buildings were plunged into darkness as the inhabitants rested.

This was a small city in the south, with a slow pace of life and affordable prices, making it suitable for settling down.

But this wasn’t their final destination—they would have to take a two-hour bus ride the next day, traveling through the mountains to reach Wu Shan. That was where civilization truly vanished.

It was too late today. Finding an inn and getting ready for bed would likely take until ten o’clock, so they decided to rest for the night.

In the city center, there were five-star hotels, but they were far from the airport, making transfers inconvenient. Besides, everyone was exhausted from flying all day, so the production team settled for a nearby small inn for the night.

From the outside, the inn truly appeared dilapidated. The walls were peeling, revealing traces of a few characters inscribed above: Temporary Inn.

…It was a fitting description. Unless it was a temporary necessity, nobody would deliberately seek out such an inn.

This wasn’t a famous tourist city, and it was uncommon to see so many people arriving late at night. When the production crew entered, the receptionist at the front desk was snoring, only opening his eyes when he heard the commotion.

Upon seeing such a large group, he rubbed his eyes, doubting whether he was hallucinating.

A staff member from the production team stepped forward. “Twenty double rooms, please.”

Wow, big business.

The receptionist perked up. “Twenty double rooms won’t be enough, we don’t have any extras. How many people are in your group? Let me rearrange it for you.”

There weren’t many tourists in this small city, and the inn had plenty of vacant rooms. However, the inn itself wasn’t very large, unable to provide twenty double rooms.

The staff member counted the number of people. “Forty-one in total, twenty-eight men, thirteen women.”

The receptionist suggested, “Alright, we have fifteen double rooms left, ten single rooms, and one queen-sized room. You can arrange it yourselves. Double rooms cost 120 yuan per night, single rooms are 80, and the queen-sized room is 100. Total comes to 2700 yuan.”

How cheap.

In Beijing, a hotel room cost much more than that for a single night.

The production team paid promptly, then proceeded to make arrangements. Two staff members shared a room, while actors, needing more privacy, stayed in single rooms. Most of the men didn’t mind sharing a double room, whereas most of the women preferred single rooms.

With fifteen double rooms accommodating thirty people, and twenty-eight men in total, it was inevitable that a pair of women would have to share a room. This time, there were fewer women in the group, consisting of actresses, makeup artists, and Miss Mu Yao, the martial arts instructor.

Yu Xiaoxiao wasn’t accustomed to sharing a room with others and naturally occupied a single room. The other actresses did the same. The makeup artist brought numerous bottles and jars, worried they might be accidentally knocked over by others, and requested a separate room.

After shuffling the arrangements, Yang Yingying and Mu Yao ended up being assigned to the double room.

The clash between two formidable female figures, radiating queenly auras, made some of the actresses secretly anticipate a show.

Yang Yingying had a tarnished reputation, a haughty personality, and stunning beauty, which irked many actresses in the production team. Mu Yao, on the other hand, was notorious for her toughness in the production crew, capable of reducing physically weak female celebrities to tears during martial arts training. Both were masters at accumulating resentment.

When masters met, many secretly hoped for sparks to fly. Their auras seemed incompatible at first glance.

Then Yang Yingying casually remarked, “I have no objections.”

Mu Yao responded, “Then I have even less of a problem.”

It wasn’t the expected confrontation, leaving them disappointed.

The last queen-sized room was given to Jiang Heng and Shen Fubai, the lead actors. They were the closest in the production team, and two men sleeping in the same bed wouldn’t raise eyebrows.

Fu Hengcheng teased, “I don’t mind sharing a bed with Fubai, you know.” They could play games together at night.

Jiang Heng tugged at his lips. “Sorry, I do mind.”

Fu Hengcheng: “…?”

Straight Prime Minister Fu didn’t understand what Jiang Heng was objecting to, and Jiang Heng saw no need to explain to him.

In the end, Fu Hengcheng shared a room with Ye Ziran. He patted Ye Ziran’s head. “Brother will bring you gaming tonight. Have you played ‘Wandering Guests of the Martial World’? I’m ranked twenty-seventh.”

Ye Ziran was thrilled, deciding not to tell Fu Hengcheng that Jiang Heng, who had previously brought him gaming, was ranked first in the server.

The receptionist handed over a stack of room cards. “Here you go. Just go up the stairs. The rooms are on the second and third floors.”

Director Xu asked, “No registration?”

Shouldn’t all inns, big or small, require ID registration and facial recognition these days?

The receptionist hesitated. “No need. We’re just a temporary lodging, no need for formalities.”

…This might be a shady establishment.

Several actors in the production team sensed something amiss. It was like trying to fool experts in front of them—the receptionist’s attitude was peculiar.

But they couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was strange.

On the other hand, not having to register was actually a good thing—at least it wouldn’t cause too much commotion. There were quite a few celebrities among them, but they had disguised themselves, and with the dim indoor lighting, the receptionist hadn’t recognized them.

The group went upstairs with their room cards, and the receptionist watched them ascend, his gaze lingering on Ye Ziran, his eyes somewhat dark.

“Hey.” A voice suddenly sounded in his ear, startling the receptionist back to his senses.

“What else do you need?” He looked at the masked youth standing before him, accompanied by a tall man.

Due to the lighting, their faces weren’t clearly visible.

But these two should be quite handsome.

“Are there buses to Wu Shan from here?” Shen Fubai asked out of pure curiosity.

Director Xu had mentioned a two-hour bus ride, but that information was secondhand. Locals would surely have a clearer idea.

“Yes. There’s one at six in the morning.” The receptionist’s tone was somewhat odd. “What are you going there for?”

“Nothing, just typical tourists wanting to see everything,” Shen Fubai said casually.

The receptionist lowered his head. “There’s nothing to see there, just a barren mountain and piles of broken rocks.”

Shen Fubai looked at him, his tone deliberate. “That makes me even more eager to visit.”