Chapter 7

What do people do when they fall in love? In primitive societies, it was about offering wolf teeth, dead rabbits, tigers, and other hunting trophies while pounding their chests to woo a mate. During the Warring States period, it was reciting lines like, “The moon rises bright and fair, the maiden is lovely and graceful.” In the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms era, it was often a life-and-death romance set against the backdrop of a fallen nation. On the Titanic, it was walking slowly toward separation and death to the sound of a violin. During the Republic of China’s war against Japan, it was a city’s fall that sealed the love between two people… But nowadays, apart from slapping on the label of “couple,” it’s hard to think of anything concrete to prove two people’s love. The ways of being together mostly boil down to shopping, watching movies, and texting.

This is an era where romance is dead—where houses, cars, and countless material things weave a net that traps everyone. Lin Ze once worked on a feature with the title: “Romance is Dead: Material Love in an Age of Money Worship.” While working on it, he often wondered what he would do if he met someone he truly connected with and wanted to have a serious relationship with. What would they do together? Where would they go? What would they eat? How could he make them happy in a romantic way? For example, under the twinkling lights of the riverside, pulling out a rose, kneeling on one knee, and saying, “I love you.”

But when it actually happened, Lin Ze realized reality was nothing like he imagined—especially with someone like Xie Chenfeng. It was hard to picture kneeling with a rose to confess love to him. The image was just too cringeworthy. After that day, it was as if both of them had forgotten the words spoken outside the stadium. Xie Chenfeng still came to see Lin Ze every day. While Lin Ze went for interviews at Tencent, Sina, and Hualong Net, Xie Chenfeng waited outside the companies. After the interviews, the two would wander aimlessly through shopping malls, enjoying the air conditioning, eating and drinking, then watching a movie in the evening before heading home.

“The benefit of being in a relationship,” Xie Chenfeng remarked, looking up from his phone at Lin Ze, “is that we can buy group coupons for two now.”

Lin Ze deadpanned, “Are you really that pathetic? Don’t you have a single colleague at work to eat group coupons with?”

Xie Chenfeng pointed at him. “Our school is different. Most of the PE teachers have families, and there’s not much interaction with teachers from other subjects. I can’t just casually ask a female teacher out.”

Lin Ze usually ate out with Zheng Jie, but now he could understand Xie Chenfeng’s loneliness. At the end of the day, living together was just about the basics—food, clothing, shelter, and getting around. In that sense, he had always been pretty lucky. At least if he wanted to eat something, he could buy a coupon and call Zheng Jie along.

The two sat in a dessert shop. Lin Ze bought a coupon and silently scrolled through his inbox on his iPad. After several days of interviews with no response, he was starting to feel worn out. The waiter brought over a massive ice cream fruit platter with two spoons. Xie Chenfeng motioned for Lin Ze to dig in. After a few bites, Lin Ze suddenly realized something was off.

This was a couple’s set. Two grown men sharing one ice cream platter with two spoons—no matter how you looked at it, it was awkward. The waiters in the shop were all staring at them.

Lin Ze immediately felt an indescribable embarrassment. Xie Chenfeng, however, didn’t seem to care. “Last time at Honeymoon Dessert, didn’t you and Zheng Jie share one too?”

“That was different,” Lin Ze replied. “With Zheng Jie, there’s no ulterior motive.”

Xie Chenfeng laughed. Lin Ze then asked seriously, “Honestly, how long were you stalking me before we met?”

Xie Chenfeng shrugged. “Not long. Just since the day you quit your job.”

Lin Ze asked about the time before they met, and Xie Chenfeng was surprisingly straightforward—he answered every question. The first time he saw Lin Ze was at Honeymoon Dessert, which was basically admitting, “I fell for you at first sight.”

“I saw your profile picture on Jack’d first,” Xie Chenfeng explained, trying to sound casual, though a faint blush crept onto his face. “I thought you were decent-looking. After wandering around a bit, I saw you in person. You looked different from your photo. You were eating dessert with Zheng Jie and reading a newspaper.”

“Oh—” Lin Ze couldn’t suppress his sly grin. Xie Chenfeng then continued seriously, “The next day, I saw you at Starbucks. The third day… well, prey.” He made a gun gesture with his fingers, aiming at Lin Ze. “Bang!”

Lin Ze didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. This was basically Xie Chenfeng admitting he had pursued Lin Ze first. Who would’ve thought that when Xie Chenfeng liked someone, he’d actually hunt them down with his phone in hand? “That photo was from my student days,” Lin Ze said. “Now I’ve been worn down by society and look older.”

“That’s perfect,” Xie Chenfeng said earnestly. “At first, I was worried you might be some immature kid. Let’s go, let’s go. Laozi feels awkward as hell…”

Under the watchful eyes of the waitstaff and other customers, the two hastily finished their couple’s ice cream boat and fled the dessert shop.

It was raining outside—a rain that had been falling for two days now, ever since they left the stadium the other night. It had washed away the recent sweltering heat but also left people feeling gloomy. Xie Chenfeng suddenly muttered, “I don’t want to go back tonight.”

Lin Ze asked, “Why not?”

“No reason. I just want to be with you.”

“Then come stay at my place?”

Xie Chenfeng nodded. Lin Ze was trying to figure out where to go next. Spending so much time with Xie Chenfeng had rubbed off on him—he was starting to adopt Xie Chenfeng’s perpetually half-asleep demeanor. Xie Chenfeng always acted like nothing mattered, like he had no preference for where they went. But for Lin Ze, this was a problem because he was the one who had to rack his brain for ideas on how to kill time.

And Lin Ze was running low on money. Without a job, savings disappeared fast. He couldn’t find work, and this frustrating life meant he couldn’t always let Xie Chenfeng pay when they went out. A day out cost at least seventy or eighty yuan, sometimes up to a hundred. With a job, that amount would be nothing, but after quitting, he couldn’t shake the insecurity of living off dwindling savings.

“Want to go to an internet café?” Lin Ze knew of a decent one nearby.

Xie Chenfeng, walking ahead, turned back. “No, I don’t like going online.”

Lin Ze thought for a moment, then suggested, “How about arcade games?”

“No, too noisy.”

Lin Ze was at a loss. Then why don’t you suggest something?! After another pause, he proposed, “I want to take a nap. How about we go to my place and sleep?”

Xie Chenfeng immediately agreed. “Sure.”

Lin Ze had finally found the perfect solution. From now on, he could just sleep at his place while sat nearby and surfed the web. It was both budget-friendly and good for their health. As he walked behind Xie Chenfeng, his phone suddenly rang.

It was a senior from his network who had recently been in touch. “A’Ze? I heard you’re unemployed right now. Can you do me a favor?”

Lin Ze had previously asked this senior to help him find a job. He stopped in his tracks. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Xie Chenfeng paused ahead. The barista at Starbucks waved at them. Lin Ze glanced inside and waved back. The senior continued on the phone, “There’s been an incident in Wulong—a mountain collapse. I don’t have anyone to spare. Can you go cover it for me? Use my press pass. There’s no photographer, just a handheld camera.”

“Sure, when do I need to go?”

“Now. Where are you?”

Lin Ze told him, and the senior replied, “Wait for me at Bei Cheng Tian Street.”

Xie Chenfeng stood watching Lin Ze. After hanging up, Lin Ze explained, “Going on an assignment. Wulong.”

“For someone else?”

Lin Ze nodded and explained the situation—an iron mine had collapsed after days of heavy rain, burying part of the mountain.

“Sounds dangerous. Do you have to go?”

“Yeah, the casualty count isn’t out yet, and we don’t know the full situation…”

“Famous reporter, let me be cynical for a second—why isn’t your senior going himself?”

Lin Ze knew that in Xie Chenfeng’s world, people were inherently untrustworthy. That hadn’t changed since they’d met. He answered seriously, “That senior of mine? During the 2008 Wenchuan earthquake, he was on the ground the whole time. When aftershocks hit, he led a group of reporters toward a collapsing national highway just to carry a few Tibetan kids fetching water to safety. You think he’d be scared of a mine collapse?”

Xie Chenfeng made a noncommittal sound. Lin Ze said, “You can head back first. I’ll call you when I’m done.”

Xie Chenfeng stayed silent. Lin Ze waited at Bei Cheng Tian Street for a while before his senior arrived, slinging a press pass around his neck and handing him a bag while flipping through a notebook. “When you get to Wulong, look for Yao Zhe…”

“The one from Phoenix News? I know her. We’ve eaten together before.”

“Perfect. Take the bus there, and once you arrive…”

“I know the drill. What’ve you been busy with lately?”

“My wife’s about to give birth! The whole family’s at the hospital waiting!”

Lin Ze burst out laughing. “Go, go…”

The senior gave a few more instructions before rushing off. Lin Ze then took a taxi to the North Railway Station. Xie Chenfeng sat beside him, using his iPad to buy tickets on the railway website. Lin Ze skimmed through the interview points his senior had compiled and muttered, “Damn, all tough nuts to crack. Nothing easy.”

“ID.”

Lin Ze pulled out his ID and tossed it to him. Xie Chenfeng bought the tickets, and by the time they reached the station, they had only ten minutes to spare. Xie Chenfeng used Lin Ze’s ID to print the tickets while Lin Ze called his senior again, standing outside the entrance to confirm a few details. Xie Chenfeng came back and handed him the ticket. “I’ll go buy instant noodles and water. You board first.”

Lin Ze rushed inside, calling back, “No need! I’ll call you later!” He got on the train, and a few minutes later, Xie Chenfeng boarded too, sitting across from him. “Not eating dinner?”

Lin Ze’s lips twitched when he saw the extra ticket in Xie Chenfeng’s hand. “You really didn’t have to come.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“Fine.” Lin Ze was actually quite happy about it. “Let’s just treat it as a trip.”

Lin Ze’s expression darkened. “This isn’t a trip. Once we’re there, you listen to me.”

Xie Chenfeng nodded nonchalantly, arms crossed, bending to take off his sneakers and propping his feet up on the seat between Lin Ze’s legs.

Lin Ze also took off his shoes and planted his foot directly on Xie Chenfeng’s crotch. Xie Chenfeng let out an exaggerated “oof.”

Lin Ze quickly said, “Okay, okay, no more playing…”

Xie Chenfeng lunged at him to retaliate. Lin Ze yelped, “I said no more!”

Xie Chenfeng pinned Lin Ze to the hard seat, growling, “No way you’re getting off that easy…”

The entire carriage was empty except for them. Lin Ze laughed uncontrollably as he tried to kick Xie Chenfeng off, but Xie Chenfeng was freakishly strong. Lin Ze was no match for him and found himself pinned down. As they wrestled, Xie Chenfeng leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

Lin Ze instantly got hard. Both of them flushed red. Lin Ze grabbed Xie Chenfeng’s collar, ruffling his rain-dampened hair, and was about to kiss him when voices echoed from the front of the carriage.

Xie Chenfeng immediately straightened up as if nothing had happened. Lin Ze sat up and bent to put his shoes back on, but Xie Chenfeng’s movement had already been noticed. A middle-aged man with his family in tow, carrying a travel bag, paused for a moment when he saw the two separating in the aisle. Lin Ze and Xie Chenfeng both stared back at him.

The man, accompanied by his elderly mother, stood frozen for three seconds before continuing to find his seat. He glanced at them again as he passed their row before sitting elsewhere.

“Damn homos,” Lin Ze muttered.

Xie Chenfeng shot back, “Damn homos…”

The two of them burst into laughter. The train started moving, and passengers gradually filled the car, though most seats remained empty. There weren’t many people on this train today, so Xie Chenfeng sat beside Lin Ze, slinging an arm over his shoulder while his socked feet dangled on the opposite seat, swinging lazily. They looked every bit like a young couple.

Lin Ze tried to focus on the mine documents but couldn’t concentrate. His mind kept replaying what had just happened—the feeling, the thrill… He couldn’t help but glance at Xie Chenfeng, who turned and asked, “Hungry?”

The train ride to Wulong was only two hours. Lin Ze nodded. “Let’s have instant noodles.”

Xie Chenfeng took two cups of noodles to get hot water. After dinner, Lin Ze said, “We should buy some snacks, or we might not last the night.”

Xie Chenfeng patted his bag. “Already got some.”

Inside were chocolates, two extra bottles of water, and a large pack of whole-wheat crackers. Lin Ze thought, So smart. He’s really good at taking care of people. Xie Chenfeng always carried that single-strap sports bag with a waist pouch and miscellaneous items inside. It was perfect for situations like this.

By the time they arrived at Wulong Railway Station, it was already 8 p.m. Lin Ze followed the map on his iPad to find a bus, but none were running. Xie Chenfeng haggled with a taxi driver, who finally agreed to take them to an exit on the highway.

At 9 p.m., they reached the highway exit. The rain was pouring harder. The two, dressed in raincoats, waited by the roadside. Police cars had already arrived. Lin Ze flagged one down, and the officer rolled down the window, shouting, “What are you doing here? Go back!”

“We’re reporters! Here for coverage!”

“Return to the county town! No interviews right now! Come back tomorrow! Wait on the other side! I’ll have a colleague take you back!”

Xie Chenfeng, drenched from head to toe after getting off the train, stepped out of the headlights and yelled, “Don’t waste our time! Or else—”

Lin Ze immediately stopped him from making threats and signaled for the officer to leave. They waited by the roadside a while longer. Lin Ze started making calls, but the signal was terrible. Finally, one call went through, and he found someone who could talk.

“We’re at the highway exit…”

“Stop! Stop!” Lin Ze acted decisively. Xie Chenfeng shouted, “Don’t rush out!”

A Jeep pulled up beside them. Lin Ze opened the door, and the two climbed in. The driver was a cameraman, and a female reporter sat in the passenger seat.

“Long time no see, prodigy,” the female reporter said with a smile. “Is this your partner?”

Lin Ze nodded, leaning back in his seat. He introduced Xie Chenfeng, “Yao Zhe is from Phoenix News.”

Xie Chenfeng nodded. Lin Ze said, “Thanks for the ride. You guys always have a way.”

The car started moving again. Yao Zhe said cheerfully, “We came from the youth hostel and rented the owner’s car. Did Xiao K’s wife give birth yet?”

Lin Ze shrugged. “She was about to when I left. No idea now. I’ll call him later to check. The signal here might be bad… Can I take a look at this?”

Yao Zhe handed him the documents from the dashboard and turned on the overhead light. Lin Ze passed her his own materials, and the two exchanged interview outlines. The car entered the mountains, climbing and descending bumpy roads. The ride was uncomfortable, the path muddy and treacherous. The steep mountain road dropped off into a ten-meter slope of loose rocks. After days of heavy rain, it could give way at any moment.

Xie Chenfeng kept looking down, then back at Lin Ze. Lin Ze was also uneasy—if the car rolled down, it wouldn’t be a joke. But since they were already in the car, they had to leave it to fate.

“Marie Colvin died,” Yao Zhe said.

“Yeah,” Lin Ze replied. “Heard about it. Lived freely, died gloriously.”

“Still a reporter? Working for Hualong Net now?”

“No, I’m just filling in for Brother Xiao K. I quit a while ago. Applied at your site before, but they didn’t take me.”

“Why not?” Yao Zhe asked, surprised.

Lin Ze smiled. “Thought I wasn’t… enough. You know.”

Yao Zhe shook her head regretfully and comforted him, “There’ll be something better suited for you. Job hunting is like dating—don’t settle.”

Lin Ze gave Xie Chenfeng a teasing look. Xie Chenfeng chuckled but didn’t comment. The car got stuck in traffic on the mountain road, nearing the village where the mine disaster had occurred. The area was swarming with reporters. Yao Zhe looked around for a moment, then opened the door and got out, knocking on car windows—most were people she knew, and even those she didn’t, she greeted.

Reporters emerged one after another. An official stepped out from the front, flanked by guards holding umbrellas. The reporters rushed back to grab cameras and microphones for interviews. Lin Ze couldn’t squeeze in, so he climbed onto the Jeep’s hood to see. Xie Chenfeng held the handheld camera, recording.

“Come with me.” Lin Ze watched for a bit, then grabbed a flashlight from the Jeep and pulled Xie Chenfeng into a run.

Hand in hand, they rounded a bend where the road had been washed out by falling rocks. Xie Chenfeng paled. “Careful!”

Lin Ze leaped over the gap in the dark. Cars behind them honked incessantly. Xie Chenfeng, terrified, jumped after him, sending a cascade of loose stones tumbling down.

“Landslide on the other side! Don’t go over!”

“Are you reporters all suicidal?!”

“Wait!”

The commotion ahead drew the attention of the entire group. The crowd surged toward the break in the road. Yao Zhe shouted, “Hey! Prodigy!”

Lin Ze stumbled, yanked upright by Xie Chenfeng. That had been close—he’d nearly slipped on his raincoat and fallen. He quickly stripped off the raincoat and tossed it aside, waving at Yao Zhe before dashing toward the other side of the road. Yao Zhe took a few steps back and also jumped over. Soon, more and more people followed. The local police couldn’t stop them.

Lin Ze and Xie Chenfeng reached the intersection, panting. Lin Ze shone his flashlight upward, spotting a road sign. Rain poured down in the night. Xie Chenfeng gasped, “Don’t run blindly. Check the way first so we don’t get lost. Weren’t you afraid of getting into a fight with the cops just now?”

“The armed police aren’t here yet. If they were, it wouldn’t have been so easy. This way.”

They took a side path, trudging through ankle-deep mud for nearly an hour, their pants soaked. A mudslide had blocked the road ahead, forcing them to climb over on all fours. At the top, Lin Ze momentarily lost his bearings. Just then, Xie Chenfeng looked up and saw two helicopters roaring overhead. “This way. Look, the path is passable here.”

“You… huff… you’re pretty good at navigation.”

“I grew up in the countryside.”

They scaled the slope and descended the other side. Lin Ze was worried about snakes—a bite here would be no joke. Xie Chenfeng cleared the way with a stick, sweeping aside the grass. Ahead loomed a dark mountain shrouded in night, and a tiny village.

The helicopters flew toward the mountain’s far side. Lin Ze had finally found his destination.

At 3 a.m., Lin Ze knocked on villagers’ doors, asking for directions to the landslide site before he and Xie Chenfeng took another path toward the mine entrance. Guards were posted ahead. Lin Ze turned on the camera and began:

“We’ve arrived at the perimeter of the mine disaster site. A temporary rescue command center has been established here. A massive landslide has buried multiple households on the village’s western side under thousands of cubic meters of earth…”

Amid the helicopters’ deafening roar and blinding white floodlights, Lin Ze was interrupted by someone shoving him. “Get out! All of you! This isn’t a place for you!”

Lin Ze staggered. Xie Chenfeng set down the camera and immediately flared up, stepping in front of Lin Ze protectively. Lin Ze knew this was inevitable—authorities always had things they didn’t want reported. Arguing was pointless; he’d have to find their superiors. But before he could react, Xie Chenfeng lashed out with a kick, sending the man sprawling.

“What the hell?!” The commotion drew more people—not police or armed officers, but local security personnel hastily mobilized to keep outsiders away. Five or six of them surrounded Xie Chenfeng, glaring.

“Call your leader—”

Before he could finish, Xie Chenfeng spun, sweeping one man’s legs, kneeing another in the back of the knee, and delivering a sharp roundhouse kick that took down three in one go. Then he punched the next attacker square in the face, sending him crashing to the ground with a bloody nose.

Lin Ze: “…”

Still holding the camera, Xie Chenfeng said, “Continue, prodigy.”

“Hualong Net special correspondent Lin Ze reporting…” Lin Ze finished the line, utterly dumbfounded.

The security guards scrambled up and ran to get their superiors. Worried they’d attract more trouble, Lin Ze urged, “Not good! Run!”

The two bolted down a narrow path. Xie Chenfeng missed his footing, and Lin Ze grabbed his arm just as they both slid down the slope, crashing into a tree. Xie Chenfeng was a mess—covered in mud, his clothes torn by branches, scratches all over.

Lin Ze hit the tree trunk, his vision swimming. After catching his breath, he was yanked up by Xie Chenfeng, who grumbled, “You were so cool showing off earlier…”

“I don’t usually fight, especially not in situations like this… Don’t! Don’t touch!”

Lin Ze tried to check Xie Chenfeng’s wounds, but Xie Chenfeng’s voice turned sharp as he pushed him away. Lin Ze was startled. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you hurt?”

“No, why? Let me see your injuries.”

He leaned in, but Xie Chenfeng blocked him with his elbow, digging out tissues with his other hand. “Back home, it’s bad luck to get blood on you where people have died. Don’t let it touch you.”

He wiped his face with the tissues, pressing them to the bleeding spots. “Will it scar?”

Xie Chenfeng gave him a sidelong glance, like a child. “If it does, will you still keep in touch?”

Lin Ze was constantly torn between laughter and exasperation by Xie Chenfeng. Voices sounded from the slope above. “Go!”

They skirted the woods, running toward the village. By 3:30 a.m., Lin Ze was back at the village’s front side. He called his senior, relaying updates. This was the coldest hour of the night. The drizzle never stopped. Both of them were soaked to the bone, even their underwear drenched. They sat against a wall, huddled together.

“Rest a bit. Eat something,” Lin Ze said. “We’ll go back up after they’ve left.”

Xie Chenfeng exhaled deeply, leaning against the wall as he pulled out crackers. Lin Ze reviewed the footage—even in the chaos, Xie Chenfeng had protected the camera from damage. Now, he fed Lin Ze a cracker. Lin Ze ate it without looking up.

“You couldn’t have done this alone.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you love me? Without me, you’d be done for—beaten up.”

“Of course.”

“Of course what? Say it clearly.”

Lin Ze thought about how, without Xie Chenfeng, he would’ve been beaten by those guards, possibly had the camera smashed, and ended up battered and humiliated.

Chewing the cracker, Lin Ze turned and kissed Xie Chenfeng on the lips.

Xie Chenfeng, completely unprepared, spat cracker crumbs all over both of them. But Lin Ze held him, kissing him deeply as they shared the taste of the crackers.

The soft, buttery crumbs melted between their lips. When Lin Ze pulled back, he licked Xie Chenfeng’s mouth and patted his head.

“Disgusting. You’re so gross.”

Lin Ze kept a straight face, acting as if nothing had happened while drinking water. Then Xie Chenfeng, after catching his breath, leaned in and kissed him again.

This second kiss was slow and lingering, leaving them both breathless. When they finally parted, the sound of helicopters overhead made Lin Ze look up. “They’re leaving.”

Xie Chenfeng got up, adjusted his bag, and handed them each a sausage to eat as they scouted the area. The main group of reporters hadn’t arrived yet—likely because they’d taken a shortcut while the others came the long way. Lin Ze hid behind a tree, peering down the slope. At the valley’s center was a vast stretch of collapsed earth. Faint cries echoed as nearly a mile of land lay buried under mud and rock.

Lin Ze led Xie Chenfeng inside. Covered in mud, they reached the rescue command center’s makeshift canopy. Nearby tents bustled with activity—stretchers being carried in and out, vehicles transporting the injured. Lin Ze had come from a different path behind the mountain, while this one led to the main road ahead, blocked by barriers and tape.

Villagers wailed over their loved ones’ bodies. Lin Ze, unnoticed, counted the corpses under white sheets. Xie Chenfeng’s face twitched. “What are you doing?”

“One, two, three…”

Lin Ze tallied the dead—nineteen so far. “Hey, A’Ze, someone’s spotted us.”

Lin Ze looked up to see figures approaching under the harsh floodlights. He grabbed Xie Chenfeng. “This way!”

“Hey! What are you doing?!” someone shouted. Lin Ze dashed into the rescue center’s tent, where several officials were talking over tea. They looked up in unison.

“Hello, I’m a reporter from Hualong Net.” Lin Ze showed his press pass and locked eyes with the man at the center. He froze—he never expected to see him here! The man clearly noticed the discrepancy between Lin Ze’s face and the pass but said nothing.

“Out, out,” one official barked. “Who let you in?”

Lin Ze stared at the man—the highest-ranking official he’d ever met. Xie Chenfeng knew better than to hit these people and warned, “Don’t touch. We’ll leave.”

“It’s fine. Let them rest,” the man said, standing. “How did you get here?”

Lin Ze, caked in mud, smiled. “…We walked. The roads aren’t clear yet.” He added, “Please, sit. We won’t cause trouble.”

“Your site is approved by the State Council Information Office. I’m not worried. Sit.”

Lin Ze relaxed slightly, though his nerves were on edge. But he had one lucky trait—the more tense the situation, the better he performed. He signaled Xie Chenfeng to start recording and began interviewing the man.

He asked pointed questions, some of which visibly displeased the official, who nonetheless answered each one without evasion. The sticking point came at the death toll. The man stood, pacing the canopy. His secretary quickly lit a cigarette for him and offered one to Lin Ze and Xie Chenfeng.

Lin Ze accepted. The man stepped outside and told him, “That’s unclear at the moment.”

Lin Ze nodded, pocketing his recorder. The man studied him. “Why send such a young reporter?”

“Youth means stamina.”

The man said nothing more and went back inside. Lin Ze and Xie Chenfeng stood aside.

“He won’t make trouble for us, will he?”

“Probably… not.” Lin Ze knew what he meant—this man was notoriously formidable. Now that Xie Chenfeng mentioned it, Lin Ze felt a twinge of unease.

“If things go south, I’ll take you away. You won’t have to job-hunt in Chongqing.”

Lin Ze chuckled. “It won’t come to that. The report isn’t even out yet—why would they shut me down? Shh, look, the others are here.”

The press corps had arrived, beginning their tug-of-war with local officials. Photographers jostled for angles as authorities cordoned off the rescue center’s perimeter. The man didn’t emerge for further interviews. Lin Ze finally understood his seniors’ descriptions of him—his presence was overpowering, unlike typical bureaucrats. He wasn’t vain; he was a man of action. After this encounter, Lin Ze agreed wholeheartedly.

At dawn, Lin Ze opened his iPad, sending recordings, notes, and images back to his senior. He and Xie Chenfeng sat in a corner, scrolling through news updates.

Reports flooded out from the site. Some journalists had set up an information hub where everyone could work. By 7 a.m., Lin Ze saw coverage on several networks. Just as he finished watching a colleague’s video interview, the reporter brought over water and struck up a conversation. They pooled information, then passed time playing cards while waiting for transport back.

Bodies were carried out one after another. Xie Chenfeng stared into the distance, seemingly moved by the sudden brush with death. Lin Ze guessed his rural hometown might have seen similar scenes, but since Xie Chenfeng didn’t bring it up, Lin Ze didn’t pry.

At noon, local authorities arranged buses to take them back to the county seat for a meal—a transparent attempt to discourage exaggerated reporting. But with the death toll exceeding expectations, the truth would out. Lin Ze was dead on his feet but forced himself to eat. A secretary approached the hosting official, whispered a few words, and the man nodded, announcing, “Just report the facts.”

With that reassurance, Lin Ze relaxed. That afternoon, he and Xie Chenfeng slept the entire ride back to the city, still covered in mud, before heading home to crash.

“Still meeting tomorrow?”

“Come to my place. Early, so we can sleep in.”

“Mm.” Xie Chenfeng sounded satisfied as they parted ways at the station.