IJLHTW - 22

Airports were always like this—noisy and chaotic, especially the international terminals. People of all skin tones mingled together, speaking in different accents. A man wearing a white cap knelt on the ground, devoutly performing his ritual prayers.

Huo Ci wore sunglasses that covered half of her small face.

Bai Yu pushed her suitcase and reminded her, “You’ll be gone for a month this time. When you get to Africa, don’t rush into dangerous situations. Let others go first—you’re just there to take pictures.”

Huo Ci remained expressionless, not responding. When she didn’t speak, an aura of coldness enveloped her.

“There’s euros and dollars I exchanged for you in your bag. Don’t be stingy when you get there—if there’s anything you want, just buy it,” Bai Yu said, then sighed. “That godforsaken place... you probably can’t even buy anything with money.”

He fussed like an old mother hen.

They arrived at the airport two hours early, and Bai Yu went to check in her luggage. Her black suitcase was half-filled with photography equipment, all of which needed to be checked in advance. Huo Ci went to buy herself a cup of coffee. After taking one sip, she spotted a figure in off-white across the way.

It was Shen Sui’an.

Beijing was really damn small.

She held her cup, preparing to return to Bai Yu. At that moment, Shen Sui’an also noticed her, looking both surprised and delighted as he called out, “Xiao Ci.”

Shen Sui’an was seeing Lu Yongxin off to Hong Kong. She had spent Christmas and New Year’s in Beijing. Her parents were already somewhat dissatisfied, so today she was heading back to Hong Kong. Shen Sui’an should have gone with her, but at the last minute, he backed out again.

Huo Ci, still wearing her sunglasses, looked at him indifferently through the lenses.

“Something wrong?”

Seeing her attire, Shen Sui’an asked, “Are you going abroad?”

“Are you here to see someone off?” Huo Ci didn’t answer his question but countered with her own. Since she would be on a twenty-hour flight, she wore comfortable flat shoes. Standing before him, she had to slightly tilt her head up.

Shen Sui’an nodded. Huo Ci asked, “Your girlfriend?”

When he didn’t respond, a cold smirk appeared on Huo Ci’s face.

People often claimed they had grown up and moved on. But some things, upon meeting old acquaintances again, revealed that so-called moving on was merely self-deception. The pain they once inflicted hadn’t healed with time. Instead, time had simply buried it. When reopened, years of hardened scars emerged.

In youth, one always thought of forever. Yet in the blink of an eye, even the present changed.

Huo Ci no longer liked Shen Sui’an, but the hurt he caused hadn’t disappeared just because she stopped liking him.

Unwilling to say more, she turned to leave.

Shen Sui’an followed her, asking, “Xiao Ci, how have you been these past few years?”

“Pretty good. Famous and rich,” Huo Ci replied, taking another sip of her coffee—it was bitter yet sweet.

Seeing her indifferent demeanor, Shen Sui’an felt a sense of unfamiliarity but also happiness for her. He said, “I know. I’ve seen your work—it’s excellent. I never imagined you’d become a photographer.”

Shen Sui’an studied medicine, and under the influence of her father and him, Huo Ci had always considered medical school her top choice.

If not for those unexpected turns, perhaps there wouldn’t be a photographer named Huo Ci, but instead, a doctor by the same name. Some things were destined. At eighteen, her life had derailed.

“I plan to return to Beijing to work,” Shen Sui’an softly announced.

Huo Ci turned her head; her sunglasses hid her eyes, but her tightly pressed lips made her appear as sharp as a blade.

She wasn’t interested in Shen Sui’an’s current life or hearing about it. Reaching the escalator, she stepped on, preparing to go downstairs. Shen Sui’an followed her down, standing behind her.

At the bottom, Huo Ci took out her phone, ready to call Bai Yu.

Shen Sui’an suddenly grabbed her wrist and softly said, “Xiao Ci, let’s talk.”

“Huo Miss,” he had barely finished when a soft, sweet female voice called from across the crowd.

Huo Ci looked up and saw Yi Zecheng standing not far away. He dressed differently than usual—a black bomber jacket over a thin T-shirt, paired with black pants and brown short boots. His backpacker-style outfit was trendy and convenient, making him stand out strikingly handsome amidst the bustling airport.

The one who called her was Ye Mingshi, wearing a trench coat, smiling warmly from afar.

Her gaze fell on Shen Sui’an’s hand gripping Huo Ci’s wrist.

“We just arrived at the airport and were thinking of calling you,” Ye Mingshi walked over, accompanied by two others—faces Huo Ci hadn’t seen before.

Ye Mingshi looked at them enviously and said, “Huo Miss, your boyfriend came to see you off. How lucky.”

Huo Ci sneered without hesitation.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

After being exposed, Ye Mingshi awkwardly smiled, “I thought you two were a couple. You look great together.”

Huo Ci glanced at her indifferently. Even through her sunglasses, Ye Mingshi inexplicably felt guilty.

Standing nearby, Shen Sui’an suddenly took a step forward, incredulous, and smiled, “I didn’t expect to bump into you here.”

“Back in the country?” Yi Zecheng asked him.

Shen Sui’an nodded, smiling, “Just returned not long ago. Haven’t started bothering you yet.”

Huo Ci stared in disbelief, never expecting these two to know each other. But reflecting on it, it wasn’t strange—they both studied medicine in the UK and were Chinese. In such a small circle, it was natural for them to know each other.

The world was damn small.

Surprise wasn’t limited to her alone—even Ye Mingshi showed surprise.

Until Shen Sui’an asked him, “Are you traveling with Xiao Ci this time?”

Xiao Ci?? Yi Zecheng glanced at the woman opposite her. She was tall, dressed in black, standing straight—sharp and aloof. He always addressed her by her full name and never expected she had such a soft nickname.

“Where are you going?” Shen Sui’an asked.

Yi Zecheng briefly told him they were heading to Africa for a collaboration with Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF).

Shen Sui’an nodded, concerned, and looked at Huo Ci, saying, “Xiao Ci has always been timid. Once you’re there, please take care of her.”

“Shen Sui’an,” Huo Ci called out, staring directly at him, “This is none of your business.”

Though feeling rebuffed, Shen Sui’an didn’t get angry. After exchanging a few more words with Yi Zecheng, he approached Huo Ci again, saying, “Then when you return, let’s talk.”

Huo Ci sneered.

After he left, the group stood awkwardly, exchanging glances. Finally, a dark-skinned man spoke first, “I assume this is Photographer Huo Miss? I’m Pan Chen.”

Huo Ci shook the extended hand—it was large and dark-skinned.

Pan Chen was a talkative person. Within moments, Huo Ci learned about him and the other person accompanying them—they were both members of MSF. They had served missions in Guinea, so this time MSF sent them to assist Ming Sheng Group.

Yi Zecheng traveled lightly this time, without even bringing an assistant. Ming Sheng Group wasn’t just a pharmaceutical company—they had branches in Africa too. Their destination, Guinea, had an office of Ming Sheng. Thus, he didn’t bring an assistant, but local personnel would handle everything for them.

During boarding, Bai Yu reminded her again—if anything happened, turn back immediately.

No need to risk her life.

“That place may be poor, but it’s not worth losing your life over,” Huo Ci said indifferently.

Seeing her still nonchalant attitude, Bai Yu anxiously said, “Bullshit. The news constantly reports conflicts in Africa. That’s why our country keeps evacuating citizens. Be careful, my little ancestor.”

His voice was loud enough for everyone nearby to hear clearly.

Embarrassed by his behavior, Huo Ci snatched the ticket from his hand and coldly said, “You can go now.”

Bai Yu was infuriated but didn’t leave.

**

Their first stop was Guinea, a country labeled the poorest by the UN, plagued by poverty for years. In 2014, it suffered from the Ebola outbreak, with over 29,000 confirmed cases and more than 10,000 deaths.

Huo Ci’s travels had taken her to various continents, but this was her first time setting foot on African soil.

Their flight required a layover in Paris. This time, they booked first-class seats. The journey was long, and Huo Ci felt drowsy as soon as she boarded the plane.

Yi Zecheng sat beside her—a coincidence, they were neighbors.

The cabin lights dimmed, but a soft reading lamp illuminated his seat. Yi Zecheng took out his laptop, seemingly ready to work.

Huo Ci pulled the thin blanket higher. It wasn’t yet time to rest, and whispers could still be heard around them.

The plane wasn’t smooth, occasionally jolting, keeping Huo Ci in a half-dreaming state.

As sleep grew heavier, she tightly gripped the thin blanket, her breathing becoming heavier. Beside her, Yi Zecheng glanced over. After a while, she began murmuring softly.

Yi Zecheng looked at the computer screen, hearing her voice beside him.

When Huo Ci was gently nudged awake, opening her eyes, the soft glow of the reading lamp bathed her eyes. Her jet-black pupils were emotionless, as if stripped of defenses after a deep slumber.

“Huo Ci, did you have a nightmare?” Yi Zecheng asked softly.

His voice was gentle, unconsciously comforting her.

She said, “I dreamed of that car accident again—I was trapped inside the car.”

Yi Zecheng’s pupils tightened. Slowly reaching out, he tucked her hair behind her ear.

“Don’t be afraid—the worst is already over,” he looked into her eyes, bright like the stars outside the porthole window.

**

The journey was more exhausting than expected. When they finally disembarked, a wave of heat hit them. They had already changed clothes, but within moments, sweat broke out.

Huo Ci wore a white silk shirt, the fabric smooth, breathable, and cool.

A car was already waiting for them outside. The person picking them up was the manager of Ming Sheng Group’s local office. Guinea was one of the most medically underserved places in the world. However, Ming Sheng Group found a niche because the UN, other countries, and organizations provided substantial medical aid annually.

This aid required real gold and silver to purchase. Ming Sheng Group’s role here was precisely this kind of business.

Even with the best car available, traffic in the capital, Conakry, was terrible, with hardly any decent roads. Huo Ci took out her camera and snapped a few photos, none of which satisfied her.

Throughout the ride, she spoke little, while Yi Zecheng continuously conversed with the local guide.

His questions were brief but incisive. The guide, realizing after a few exchanges that Yi Zecheng was highly knowledgeable about the situation here, dared not exaggerate and answered truthfully.

After a simple welcome dinner that evening, Yi Zecheng said to her, “Starting tomorrow, we’ll delve deeper into the surrounding villages. Are you okay with that?”

She crossed her arms and gave a faint smile, “As long as I’m with you, everything’s fine.”

Yi Zecheng looked at her and turned away.

No one mentioned what happened on the plane, nor did anyone know that he had been holding her hand throughout.