Without Jia Wenxiu stirring up trouble, ti slipped by along the tracks, and in the blink of an eye, half a day had passed.
The East Sea Province and the province where Lushan is located are adjacent to each other, not too far apart. They had caught the train close to noon, and by early morning tomorrow, they would arrive.
The train wasn’t a direct route, passing by many stations, and sotis inexplicably stopping along the way.
Old passengers disembarked, new passengers boarded—transience is cruel, and its pace relentless.
Tian Sangsang draped a piece of clothing over herself, seemingly resting, but in truth, her mind was wandering.
Ever since she had posted a photo of her son with Little Milk Tea, she had unknowingly gained a small group of fans, and her follower count had continued to climb steadily.
Because she rarely posted on Weibo, many followers urged her to post more.
This is an age of information overload; posting too little risks being forgotten.
Tian Sangsang decided to embrace this modern connection and to docunt her daily life on Weibo, resolving to post sothing every few days.
So, when ng Shuyan’s photo was posted yesterday, the comnts and shares surged rapidly.
Tian Sangsang finally understood: there’s no escape from looks-oriented society. As long as it doesn’t go too far, living off one’s appearance—if it exists, it’s reasonable.
The original Weibo post went like this:
Mrs. Jiang 1980: Leaving for Lushan tomorrow for filming, can’t bring the little one along. /crying emoji [Attached: ng Shuyan’s stunning photo]
ardelle: Are you actually a celebrity, though? /dazed emoji
Scattered Purple Flowers: Ahhhh, side profile slay! The little one is too cute, I might cry! /heart emoji
Moon Girl with a Cat: Is daddy at ho?
Cute atloaf: Lushan? Is there a new Lushan drama coming out lately?
Naruto Pirate King: Auntie can’t resist—the little one is too pinchable, let squeeze! /grab emoji
zy141887357: *slap* Stop pinching! Let take over!
Feifei from West Island @zy141887357: Why are you hitting his girlfriend? If she gets hurt, you’ll have to compensate!
Rainy15383213: Daddy isn’t ho, and mommy is going out. Question is, who’ll take care of the child?
Sly Little Cat: There’s always your neighbor, Old Wang.
Neighbor Old Wang: What does that have to do with ? Who did I ss around with this ti?!
Zichu: OP, your family seems suspicious. Where’d you buy that thermos? Your radio is vintage. And isn’t that squared luggage only seen in movies?
Tian Sangsang browsed through these comnts; the netizens were truly hilarious.
Finally, her gaze settled on a userna: [Zichu].
His comnt was sharp and accurate, even dissecting the details of her household’s background. The thermos was indeed different from modern ones, and the radio, needless to say, who uses one nowadays except nostalgic folks? The suitcase—yes, long green leather—for which she had gone to the lengths of buying purposefully.
Zichu... was her brother’s Weibo alias.
Her eyes subtly moistened. She lived well in this world—but what about her brother?
The day her brother called was their last phone conversation.
In one stroke, he had lost his father and sister. How imnse must the blow be to him?
This year, he had just graduated from police academy and started interning at a local police bureau.
Could this be her brother’s Weibo account? Or had he renad it, just coincidentally sharing the sa na?
Her trembling fingers tapped into the profile. The bio read only one line: "The truth... is never singular."
Tears brimd over; this absurdly enigmatic sibling of hers!
Looking further into the account’s posts, it contained police-related topics, retweets of suspense and cri films, and reviews of mystery cri novels—granted, he was a diehard Sherlock Hols fan.
She gazed with mixed emotions—this was her brother.
Even if she couldn’t et him in person, she could at least secretly observe him like this, knowing that he was alive and well. It brought her so much relief.
She dared not follow his account nor send him private ssages. Watching quietly from afar was enough.
Lost in thoughts, her elbow was suddenly bumped, jolting her awake.
"Sorry, comrade." A passenger carrying several pieces of luggage apologized.
Tian Sangsang gently shook her head, signaling it wasn’t a problem.
The interruption stirred her awake, suppressing her urge to dwell on the past.
As she turned, Zhao Chun was resting his cheek in his hand, brows furrowed in contemplation.
"What’s on your mind?" she asked.
"N-Nothing." His handso face flushed slightly as he clutched the script to his chest, hurriedly gazing out the window.
At this mont, Zhao Chun deeply regretted taking up this project. The reason was simple: the script called for a kissing scene where the female protagonist kisses the male lead’s cheek. In the margins, the scriptwriter Yadan had even noted: "Direct kissing—if feasible—would be preferable. If not, settle for a cheek kiss."
It hadn’t bothered him before, but now that the male lead had been swapped to him... it ant...
Removing this scene wasn’t an option; from the director’s perspective, this kiss was necessary for emotional impact. Yet, from the actor’s side, he was adamant about cutting the scene!
Tian Sangsang couldn’t understand his awkwardness and calmly picked up the water cup for a sip.
By now, most of the passengers had boarded.
Her eyes suddenly lit up, drawn to the last two passengers entering the carriage.
These two were remarkably dressed. Upon stepping in, their aura instantly commanded attention, drawing collective glances from everyone in the carriage.
Both n shared a commonality—each carried a briefcase and a small travel bag, their figures tall and upright.
The man in the lead wore all black with a leather jacket over his outfit.
The man behind him sported a white shirt and black trousers, draped with a long black trench coat. The ticulously tailored coat exuded refinent and gentlemanly poise.
But cold—like an ancient sword drawn from its sheath, emanating a frosty sharpness.
A surge of familiarity washed over Tian Sangsang as she instinctively tried to study his face.
A plain and unremarkable face.
No striking features stood out—not even an impression to match the attention-grabbing clothing.
Sensing a lingering gaze, the man turned his eyes toward hers.
His hat was tilted slightly, partially obscuring his eyes until this motion revealed them.
What kind of eyes were those? Narrow, deep-set, with a asured chill between the brows. It was hard to reconcile those eyes with his otherwise ordinary face.
At this mont, Zhao Chun, like a timid young wife, suddenly perked up and exclaid, "Wow, this look—definitely seems like he’s from Hong Kong. I wish I could put on an outfit like that!"
Tian Sangsang smirked playfully. "Keep in mind, you’re playing Geng Hua, a law-abiding comrade. That gangster boss style doesn’t suit you. We’re shooting *Lushan Love,* not *Shanghai Beach.*"
Zhao Chun blinked in confusion. "*Shanghai Beach*?"
Tian Sangsang casually replied, "A story Yadan told once."
"Can you tell about it?"
"We want to hear too, Sangsang!" Yao Yu and Chen Wan chid in eagerly.
"Sure thing." Tian Sangsang gladly began storytelling, a smile upon her lips as she recounted the tale. But amidst her narration, she couldn’t shake the faint sense that soone from not too far behind was watching her.
"Jiang." The glow of a fla drew near.
With a slight forward lean, the man in the trench coat lit a cigarette from the fire held by his companion’s hand.
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