Jin Xiaozhe felt herself slowly calming down, and the enthusiastic interaction with the live studio audience also helped her to get into the mood gradually. She responded to every question from the host with an appropriate and intelligent answer, infused with a slight degree of cool humour. Her responses not only rendered the host frequently incapable of holding back laughter, the audience mbers were also excited to the extent that they were almost unable to restrain themselves from rushing up the stage. Her manager, standing at the side, stealthily gave her a big thumbs-up. Jin Xiaozhe smiled faintly.
. . . Next question. The host smiled mysteriously and said, This is the question that the fans in our studio audience, even the audience and fans in the entire country, are most interested in. That is, Xiaozhe, do you have a boyfriend?
The studio erupted in a cacophony of shrieks.
Jin Xiaozhe smiled lightly and raised her hand, signalling the audience to quieten down. Actually, she felt a little tremor in her heart on being asked that question. However, the answer had naturally been prepared beforehand.
This has to do with my private life, she answered with a smile. Currently, no one worth marrying has appeared yet. However, if there should be good news one day, I will definitely notify everyone at an appropriate ti.
The shrieks and cheers from the audience were unceasing.
Jin Xiaozhe laughed and lowered her head. At this mont, the host asked another question in a crisp voice, but Jin Xiaozhe did not hear him.
Because she felt the cell phone in her pocket vibrating.
It continued to vibrate.
It was highly impolite and unprofessional to answer a call in the middle of recording. Jin Xiaozhe had never done this before. But, at this ti, she fell into a kind of trance, and for so inexplicable reason, took out her cell phone.
The host was startled and the audience fell silent, while her manager had an incredulous expression on his face.
Jin Xiaozhe kept looking at her phone screen. She forgot where she was montarily. That was a very strange number. Once, Fang Qing had used a satellite phone to call her, and this number had been displayed.
She swiftly accepted the call and raised the phone to her ear.
Everyone present was silent.
Hi, she said softly.
The other end of the line was especially noisy, as if sothing was continuously striking against sothing else. She waited patiently, and after a few seconds, she heard Fang Qing gasping lightly, then his hoarse, low voice said, Hi, Xiaozhe.
She replied, Hmm.
He laughed unexpectedly, and asked, What are you doing?
She heard so indistinguishable roaring and rumbling in the background, as well as the sound of rain.
Im participating in a program.
The studio audience started whispering among themselves, excitedly conjecturing.
The other end was quiet for a while, then he said, Wife, Im sorry, I might not . . be able to keep my word. I cant co back.
Jin Xiaozhe gripped her phone, unmoving and unspeaking.
At the other end, Fang Qing eked out hoarsely, Xiaozhe, I . . .
The call was cut off. There was only the du . . . du . . . of the dead tone. Jin Xiaozhes face was devoid of expression, and everyone in the studio was exceptionally silent. Holding her phone, she dialled the number. She tried thrice, but could not get through.
. . . . .
. . . . Xiaozhe, Xiaozhe? The host tentatively called out to her with a smile. Jin Xiaozhes eyes focused on the cara as she suddenly seed to realise she was still participating in the number one program in the nation.
Did Xiaozhe just receive an important call? the host laughingly asked. Can we continue?
Jin Xiaozhe slowly put down her cell phone. It was only then that she beca aware of the flushed face of her manager on the other side, the studio packed with audience mbers who were all looking at her, and the countless lights and cara lenses.
Yes, she replied tranquilly, yes, lets continue.
The host smiled broadly, as if the previous little episode had never taken place, and carried on to say, Then, Xiaozhe, the next question has been asked by your fans. What kind of work are you going to bring us next?
Next . . . So previously prepared phrases chanically surfaced in her mind. With great clarity, she replied, I have always been soone who enjoys a challenge. Even though it might be outside my comfort zone, I would like to choose to film a period drama.
Wah, that would be great! the host said. Then, have you thought about which director you might or want to collaborate with?
Yes, Jin Xiaozhe answered, such as Director Zou Chao, Director Mu Li . . . She continued speaking frankly and confidently, but, at so unknown ti, the entire studio hushed. She carried on, as if she had not realised it. It was only when she had finished answering the question, and the host silently held out a piece of tissue paper to her, that she discovered that she could no longer see anything clearly in front of her eyes.
Her eyes were streaming with tears.
No one in the entire studio said a word.
Jin Xiaozhe grabbed several sheets of tissue, covered her face, bowed her head, and cried bitterly.
. . . .
The person I love is a hero without peer.
He is a strong criminal investigator who can carry on his back and run a circuit along the city wall.
He is soone I cannot throw off, no matter how hard I try.
He always watches with a slight smile and lowered head as he smokes.
I am constantly afraid that he will leave .
And now, he really wont co back again.
. . . .
The rain poured down in torrents. Fang Qing lay motionless on the damp and dusty ground. The temple had almost collapsed entirely; only a few main beams and Buddha statues remained, standing haughtily erect. A mont ago, in the interval between life and death*, Fang Qing had scanned the layout of the surroundings and rolled so that he was just below a Buddha statue. The temple had been constructed so that it was relatively spacious here, which allowed him to avoid the collapsing wooden beams as well as the flow of mud and rocks from the mountainside. Only a part of it had struck him. Although it hurt, it was far better than dying violently.
* (qian jun yi fa) lit. a thousand pounds hang by a thread; fig. imminent peril, between life and death.
However, one of the rafters fell and landed right on top of him. Both of his legs were pinioned and he could not move at all. He was very clear that the previous wave of mud and stones was just the prelude to the landslide that was still to co. Another trendous wave, enough to bury them all, was coming with the ominous rumbling of the mountainside. With the situation being so critical, his comrades who were outside would have no way to get closer to rescue him.
At this point in ti, his mind functioned with absolute clarity. He knew he did not have much ti left, perhaps not even enough ti to make a phone call.
Thus, for the first ti in his life, he did not consider his work or his comrades. He simply chose to call that woman. Before he died, he wanted to say sothing to her, he had always wanted to.
Hi . . . When he heard her voice, even as he heard the mud and rocks tumbling down the mountain, in that instant his heart was more at peace than it had ever been.
That woman was seriously able to keep her composure. There was no reaction at all from her after hearing his farewell speech. He laughed in his heart; surely, this was the brave woman he loved and was able to take responsibility for. Just that his heart was overco with guilt. He knew that she would inevitably be sorrowful, he knew that she would inevitably be lonely. He wanted to say: Im sorry, Xiaozhe, I cant accompany you for the rest of our lives.
But he ran out of ti to say these words.
He said, Xiaozhe, I . . .
He looked up and saw the temples last remaining roof ridge engulfed in an instant by a black flood and collapse.
He saw the tallest and largest Buddha statue above him topple over and fall towards him.
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