Chapter 1: The Car Accident

Yi Feicheng’s eyelashes were extraordinarily long.

Jiang Ranyun watched as a tuft of soft snow drifted down, coming to rest lightly on his lashes. The world was locked in ice and cold, and the two of them stood so close, face to face, their breath mingling in the air, the white mist blurring and softening everything within sight.

Amidst the wind and swirling snow, he slipped off his black leather gloves, and with his thumb gently stroked Jiang Ranyun’s cheek, murmuring, “I’m leaving.”

Her eyelids and the tip of her nose were both flushed red; her voice was soft, almost inaudible. “Alright.”

He gazed at her for a moment, then suddenly lifted his other hand as well, cupping her face with both palms, bowing his head to kiss her.

Jiang Ranyun closed her eyes and leaned in ever so slightly.

His lips were a little dry, a little cold. Their lips pressed together, breath moist and warm, gradually kindling heat between them.

In the howling blizzard, they exchanged burning breaths and fervent affection.

“Cut!”

They broke apart quickly.

“Excellent, very good!” The director said with delight. “Take two minutes to rest, then get ready for the next shot!”

An assistant hurried over with a down coat. Jiang Ranyun wrapped herself in it, but she couldn’t warm up right away and stamped her feet to keep warm. The assistant was a young girl, new to the team, and not yet fully prepared for everything.

Smiling to lighten the mood, Jiang Ranyun said to Yi Feicheng, “It’s so cold out here.”

Yi Feicheng acknowledged her with a brief “Mm.”

He accepted the hot water bottle and thermos handed over by his own assistant, passing the hot water bottle to Jiang Ranyun almost without thinking.

“Oh,” Jiang Ranyun hesitated, then took it. “Thank you.”

Yi Feicheng gave her a fleeting smile before unscrewing the thermos and taking a drink of hot water.

The thermos was icy to the touch, and his long, slender fingers were red from the cold, the knuckles even paler by contrast.

Jiang Ranyun hugged the fluffy, almost scalding hot water bottle, wanting to say something more. But Yi Feicheng had already lowered his gaze, not looking at her, clearly with no intention of continuing the conversation.

Jiang Ranyun thought to herself, after two years working together again, she’d almost forgotten what he was like.

Yi Feicheng possessed strikingly handsome features, and with his costume for this Republican era drama, he looked every inch the cold and resolute military man. His eyes were dark and clear; it took only a moment for him to switch from the gentle, passionate lover in the drama to the indifferent, detached man off camera.

He wasn’t exactly cold toward her, just politely distant.

They’d met six years ago on their first project and had worked together several times since. If asked by the media about her relationship with Yi Feicheng, Jiang Ranyun would say “we’re friends.” But if asked by close friends or family, she’d have to admit helplessly that she really didn’t know him well at all.

Suddenly, a commotion rippled through the set.

Both Jiang Ranyun and Yi Feicheng looked over and spotted camera flashes flickering among the distant pines.

They both froze.

Jiang Ranyun thought anxiously, Surely not…

But it was exactly what she feared.

Soon, the security team reported back: it had been two unauthorized photographers, and they’d been chased off.

But that evening, back at her hotel after wrap, Jiang Ranyun saw both her name and Yi Feicheng’s trending online, along with their couple nickname and keywords like “Birds and Green Mountains set leaks.”

A few blurry photos, but the atmosphere was palpable.

The two of them stood side by side in heavy snow, gazing together toward the camera. There were even a few shots of them kissing during the scene.

Their couple fans were beside themselves with excitement.

“So perfect together!”

“The shoot just started and it’s already this intense? Is this even allowed?”

“Finally, some fresh content! I live! I could ship Feiran for another ten thousand years!”

“My ship is always the sweetest and most perfectly matched!”

“Feiran, get married on the spot!”

“I’ve already moved the marriage bureau here—go get your license now!”

Jiang Ranyun wondered if she and Yi Feicheng had even exchanged more than three words off-camera that day.

*

A year and a half later.

“Birds and Green Mountains” premiered and shot straight to the top of the charts. Everyone was ecstatic, and the promotional schedule rolled out as planned, especially focusing on the two leads.

Promotions coincided with typhoon season—torrential rain in S City. Flights were delayed again and again, and Yi Feicheng didn’t land until the early hours of the morning.

As soon as his phone connected to a signal, countless messages and calls poured in.

Among them was a WeChat from his mother.

Once he was in the car, he played the voice message, holding it to his ear.

Huge raindrops battered the car windows, the windshield wipers working furiously.

His mother’s voice was earnest, tinged with worry and urgency: “...That girl from the Chen family is really nice. I heard she’s a fan of yours. Your grandfather said, at the latest by next month, you must come back and meet her. Fei, you’re not young anymore, you’re almost thirty…”

Yi Feicheng was born in January. His family liked to count age by the traditional method, which added two years, but in truth, he wouldn’t even be twenty-eight until next year.

The wild storm outside made the inside of the car seem even more tranquil and muted. Yi Feicheng replied to his mother with a noncommittal “We’ll see” and exited WeChat.

He switched to Weibo.

His official account, certified as actor Yi Feicheng, had sixty million followers and his notifications were always maxed out.

Besides his main account, he had a little-known side account.

“Arctic Smelt.” Six thousand followers. On this account, he posted film reviews and book quotes. On the surface, he was a film and literature blogger, but most of his followers were convinced “Arctic Smelt” was, like them, a fan of Jiang Ranyun.

He never missed one of Jiang Ranyun’s works—he watched them all, repeatedly.

Fans shared another consensus: “Arctic Smelt” was not just a fan, but a hardcore, exclusive one.

He could write tens of thousands of words of professional analysis on her work, but never once mention “Yi Feicheng.” If any couple shippers mentioned Yi Feicheng in the comments or tried to push the ship, he would delete their comments and remove them as followers. Repeat offenders were blocked outright.

Just as he switched to his side account, he saw a private message: “Fishy! Your wife’s new drama ‘Birds and Green Mountains’ is out. Have you watched it yet?”

He never quite understood why fans referred to their favorite stars as “wives,” but he was used to it by now. He was about to reply when a shrieking noise cut through the storm, blinding lights enveloped the car, then came a thunderous crash—a tremendous force slammed into them...

*

The typhoon passed in one night.

That morning, there was still a light rain in S City.

Jiang Ranyun was awakened by her alarm. She yawned, reluctant to get up.

But her schedule was set; she had no choice.

With a sigh and a bit of resolve, Jiang Ranyun sat up in bed.

The hotel’s floor-to-ceiling windows were clear and bright, offering a view of the blue-gray sky and the surging river below.

A high-floor river-view room—quite a sight, really.

The morning fog in her mind cleared, and Jiang Ranyun went to wash up.

When she came out, face mask on, she saw a new message on her phone.

It was from her assistant, Wu An’an: “Yun-jie, the contact from Shixiu Magazine said something happened with Teacher Yi’s side. This morning’s shoot is off—it might be rescheduled for tonight, or they’ll see if there’s another slot in the next few days.”

Jiang Ranyun was momentarily stunned.

Unlike most in the industry, Yi Feicheng only took on acting roles, attended film festivals, and occasionally shot for magazines; he never participated in other activities. His schedule was always simple and punctual.

In all their years working together, this was the first time she’d encountered such a situation.

She asked: “What happened?”

An’an replied, “Don’t know. They didn’t say.”

Jiang Ranyun scrolled through her WeChat contacts, found Yi Feicheng, and opened their chat.

The last time they’d spoken was over half a month ago—June nineteenth, her twenty-seventh birthday. He’d wished her happy birthday, she’d replied with thanks, and that was that.

Further up, aside from necessary work communications and discussions about their roles, there were only his New Year’s greetings.

They almost never talked about anything personal.

…Sigh, no way to ask him directly.

After a few seconds’ thought, Jiang Ranyun opened several social media apps and scrolled through dozens of trending topics.

There were mentions of Yi Feicheng, but all related to “Birds and Green Mountains” premiering a few days prior. Nothing out of the ordinary.

After a moment’s thought, she asked An’an, “What about tonight’s live broadcast?”

She only had two events today: a morning magazine cover shoot with Yi Feicheng, and an evening live broadcast with him as the lead actors promoting “Birds and Green Mountains.”

An’an replied, “I checked, and they said there’s no word from Teacher Yi’s side, so for now the plan remains unchanged.”

So it seemed nothing major had happened.

Jiang Ranyun relaxed, sprawling back onto the soft bed. She peeled off her face mask, washed her face, and thought she could squeeze in a bit more sleep.

...

Yi Feicheng summoned all his strength just to open his heavy eyelids.

He was greeted by a stark white ceiling, the faint smell of disinfectant in the air. His head throbbed dully. Beside him, someone shouted excitedly, “He’s awake! He’s awake!”

He turned his head slightly. A man in his forties clapped the bed, exclaiming, “You scared me to death!”

Liao Sheng was Yi Feicheng’s agent, distantly related to him by marriage. He’d promised the family to look after Yi Feicheng; if anything happened to him, Liao Sheng’s own company would be done for.

Luckily, the scare had ended safely—Yi Feicheng was awake.

But then, Liao Sheng saw Yi Feicheng squint at him and ask a question that made his world collapse: “Who are you?”

*

The amnesia didn’t last long. Over the course of the morning, Yi Feicheng’s memory gradually returned.

Liao Sheng verified repeatedly. “Who am I?”

Calmly, Yi Feicheng replied, “Liao Sheng, my agent. My aunt’s cousin’s brother-in-law.”

“Good, good!” Liao Sheng beamed. “The doctor says you don’t have any major injuries, your head’s fine—you can be discharged.”

Yi Feicheng grunted his assent.

As Liao Sheng handled the discharge paperwork, he rambled on about the accident: the typhoon, the bad weather, the other car skidding out, and how—thanks to Yi Feicheng’s experienced driver—no one was seriously hurt. Aside from Yi Feicheng passing out and his assistant getting a cut on the arm from broken glass, everyone was fine.

Yi Feicheng acknowledged this, then suddenly asked, “Where’s my phone?”

“Oh, right,” Liao Sheng said, “The one loss from the wreck is your phone—it’s completely destroyed. I’ve taken out the SIM; we’ll get you a new one later.”

Yi Feicheng said, “First, transfer ten thousand yuan each to Xiao Luo and the driver, for shock relief.”

“Okay,” said Liao Sheng.

“And,” Yi Feicheng added, “let her know I’m safe, so she doesn’t worry.”

That came out a bit abruptly. Liao Sheng was puzzled, “Who?”

“I mean, my…” For some reason, Yi Feicheng found those two words surprisingly heavy, making him a little embarrassed to say them. “My wife.”

“What?” Liao Sheng froze for a second, then looked utterly shocked. When did Yi Feicheng secretly get married?!