No one knows how a person wearing a veil and a person wearing a mask recognized each other.
All they knew was that the woman threw herself into his arms so quickly it was faster than the blink of an eye – with a desperate, reckless abandon, and with all the intensity of pent-up grievances.
Everyone was startled by the scene. Several Chinese employees’ hearts leapt to their throats –
It wasn’t as if Shang Shao had never faced danger here. The five minutes when someone once held a gun against his waist, year after year, were perhaps the longest five minutes of his life – and of every Chinese employee’s life who witnessed it back then.
“Chairman Shao!” someone exclaimed, stepping forward to restrain the suspicious woman.
But his steps came to an abrupt halt, because he saw Shang Shao – a man who never let his emotions show on his face – his pupils slightly dilate, then quickly settle. Shang Shao lowered his gaze and gently pressed his palm against the woman’s back.
His movement was so slow and tender, as if handling a dream.
Any heavier, and he might shatter this innocent illusion.
“Mr. Shang…” Her lips, hidden beneath the veil, quivered again and again as she suppressed her fear and anguish, asking in a trembling voice, “Is it you?”
Shang Shao tightened his arm and pulled her firmly into his embrace.
“Don’t you think it’s a little late to be asking that now, hmm?” he asked, his voice weary and hoarse. With one finger, he hooked down his mask. “Ying Yin, you’re getting bolder and bolder.”
Ying Yin lifted her face from beside his neck. As her tears streamed down, the brilliant red veil slipped from her ear, revealing her face.
All the Chinese employees around them fell abruptly silent.
Only a fool wouldn’t recognize her now. This was fucking…
Ying Yin didn’t care. Her lips pressed tightly together, tears streaming endlessly. She was clearly crying, yet the corners of her mouth couldn’t help but curl upward, forming an expression that was both tearful and smiling.
Shang Shao looked at her deeply. After a few seconds, he placed one hand on her cheek, the other on her waist, and kissed her with fierce intensity.
“Ahem, ahem…” A chorus of coughs rose around them, impossible to ignore.
The employees and local officials exchanged glances.
The Chinese employees spread their hands and silently mouthed, “Well…”
The Tanzanian officials shrugged and pursed their lips, then turned aside and reached out – deftly twisting open the door to a nearby file room.
Bang. Ying Yin was pressed hard against the door.
The file room was empty. In the afternoon light, columns of dust floated through the air, which carried the musty but gentle scent of architectural blueprints and old archives – a stuffy, muted sort of staleness.
Ying Yin melted under his kiss, turning boneless, unable to stand. Her back kept sliding down the door until Shang Shao’s large hand caught her firmly from behind, lifting her by the hip.
His hands really were enormous – broad palms, long fingers, each knuckle gripping with strength, the soft flesh between his fingers spilling out almost to overflowing.
Shang Shao was losing control badly.
It had only been a few days apart – how had he missed her to such an extent? When she wasn’t by his side, the desire within him could still be managed with ease. He’d think of her during breaks, smoke half a cigarette, that was all – nothing too hard to bear.
But his itinerary told no lies.
Everyone knew he was compressing his schedule, trying to rush back as soon as possible – yet fate had other plans. He’d played too hard on the yacht, caught her illness, and then fallen victim to the unfamiliar environment in Tanzania. The lack of rest over the past week caught up with him all at once – a severe cold hit him like a storm.
In the rainy season, the savannah was hot and humid. Mornings were so cold you needed a down jacket; noon was so hot even a shirt felt like too much. Mosquitoes swarmed everywhere, malaria was rampant – a fever was no small matter.
The private physician came to treat him at the hotel and strictly forbade him from working.
Even with the wildest imagination, Shang Shao could never have pictured Ying Yin standing before him at this moment.
Travel-worn, carrying the scent of perfume and the scorching sun, her lips soft and burning, ready for him to take.
Ying Yin was overwhelmed by his ferocity. The heart in her chest felt as if Shang Shao were kneading and toying with it, shapeless now, knowing only how to pound and tremble violently. But she was not without a weapon – the only hardness within all that softness, like a dove’s beak, utterly harmless, pressing just right against his palm, warmed by the lines and calluses there.
After kissing for a while, she fell apart completely, laying her head on Shang Shao’s shoulder and catching her breath with her eyes closed.
Shang Shao patted her shoulder, kissed the side of her ear, and let out a deep, heavy sigh, murmuring soothingly, “I won’t touch you.”
Ying Yin wrapped her arms around his neck. Amid their heavy, restrained breathing, she listened quietly to the sounds outside the window: the rumble of jeep engines, the calls of women selling baskets balanced on their heads, the endless blare of motorcycle horns.
This place was so alive. More boisterous, even, than the screams beyond the red carpet.
“Didn’t contact me these past two days because you were on planes the whole time?” Shang Shao’s hand rested against the back of her neck – hot and dry, his fingertips pressing with a faint, almost imperceptible force, sending waves of tingling numbness through Ying Yin’s pressure points.
“Mm.”
“Did you get your vaccines?”
“Yes. They wouldn’t let me leave without them.” Ying Yin answered obediently, her voice thick and nasal from crying. “But I lost my passport. Lost my wallet. Lost my phone, too.”
“Are you hurt?” Shang Shao pulled her slightly away from his embrace, checking her body inch by inch to make sure she was unharmed.
“I’m fine. I just – in the time it takes to hail a cab, everything was gone just like that. I waited an hour and a half for the bus here…” She bit her lip, clearly aggrieved.
Shang Shao couldn’t help but laugh. “Didn’t you know? In Africa, only sunrise and sunset are on time.”
Ying Yin let out a dejected huff. “How was I supposed to know?”
She didn’t know anything. Still, with nothing but raw courage, she’d gotten her vaccines and her visa and come here alone. Endless layovers, drowsy long-haul flights – her only companion was a familiar travel pillow.
When she landed and got off the plane, all she saw were tall, burly people everywhere. The scent of perfume made her dizzy, the strange accents exhausted her mind.
She was just a girl. A girl who, since her debut, had always been surrounded by people, a girl who had never traveled abroad alone.
Why was her luggage delayed? Where to exchange foreign currency? How to buy a SIM card? Why was there still no signal even after activating international roaming? Where to get a taxi? So many people swarmed her, eagerly trying to pull her away.
Why did the driver say the hotel address marked on Google Maps was too far to reach?
After she got off the car, some creature – a monkey or a baboon – was loitering by the roadside. It hooked its long arm and stole her banana right in front of everyone, as if no one else existed.
“You didn’t know any of this. So why did you come?” Shang Shao’s breath mingled with hers, his lips barely brushing against hers. “If you hadn’t run into me here, what would you have done?”
“The embassy…”
Ying Yin said weakly, her voice trailing off. Then she was kissed fiercely again and let out a sweet little “Mm.”
All words disappeared, swallowed between their lips and tongues as they kissed once more.
How pure this kiss was – yet in their ears, the voices of the officials outside handling matters drifted through the door, still as lazy and perfunctory in tone as ever.
They had less patience for getting things done than they did for kissing.
A few minutes later, the tightly shut door finally opened again. The parties involved had their clothes in order, and the onlookers acted as if nothing had happened.
Only – the creases on Chairman Shao’s shirt had appeared out of nowhere and were so deep that they were hard to ignore.
“Chairman Shao, we couldn’t find a suitable car on short notice…” the employee said, unable to stop himself from sneaking a glance at the actress beside him.
“It’s fine.” Shang Shao didn’t make things difficult for them. He took Ying Yin’s hand.
Ying Yin kept her head down, avoiding everyone’s gaze.
Now she felt the nervousness, the belated fear. A famous Chinese actress appears on the streets of Tanzania, gets pulled into a dark room and kissed senseless…
What kind of trashy tabloid would even write a headline like that?
Shang Shao glanced back at her, aware of her discomfort. He squeezed her hand a little tighter.
For a moment, he paused quietly before speaking. In the end, he said, casually, “My girlfriend. Don’t tell anyone for now.”
Ying Yin’s head shot up. The words “girlfriend” sounded strange to her.
The people around Shang Shao were all seasoned, discreet employees – people with good judgment who knew how to keep secrets. They immediately nodded. “First time meeting Ms. Ying. You’re so beautiful. Such a perfect match.”
Ying Yin tried very hard to suppress the corners of her mouth, but it was futile. A smile leaked out bit by bit from her tightly pressed lips. Her eyes shone bright with joy.
Shang Shao looked back at her, the curve of his lips lifting slightly. Then he said to the employee, “Truth is, I’m the one punching above my weight.”
Ying Yin didn’t want to let herself be too happy – otherwise, she would lose all sense of proportion. In her heart, she told herself: Girlfriend, girlfriend. A contract couple is still a girlfriend. He gave her a hundred million just so she could play the part in front of others. She shouldn’t be too happy. This was just her job, after all.
As they stepped out of the office, dust swirled in the air. Parked at the entrance was a jeep with a very high chassis – so high that standing on the ground, you could hardly see inside the vehicle.
Only after getting in did Ying Yin notice how sparse the interior was. The back seat had no center console – very simple.
Shang Shao wasn’t about to leave her alone. He kissed the top of her head and gave her a lazy pat on the lower back. “Sit in my lap.”
Ying Yin glanced at the driver – a local man, tall and sturdy with alert eyes, like a bodyguard. He kept his eyes fixed straight ahead on the road.
“Mr. Shang…” She hesitated for a moment, then, under Shang Shao’s deep gaze, climbed onto his lap obediently and smoothly.
“Did Uncle Kang give you the address?” Shang Shao asked casually, trying to ease her nervousness.
“No.” Ying Yin shook her head. “I booked a hotel myself. I was planning to wait until I arrived, then tell you.”
“So you didn’t even know my schedule or where I’d be, and you just came anyway.” Shang Shao looked down at her.
“You told me the name of the city last time. I remembered.”
“I was originally leaving at six this evening.”
Ying Yin froze in shock. “Really?”
“Really. This jeep was meant for the transfer to the Serengeti. If we hadn’t run into each other just now – if we’d missed each other – then the embassy really would have been your only hope.”
Ying Yin was already shaken and exhausted from the ordeal. His scare made her face turn pale again.
Shang Shao smiled. “So, tell me – why did you fly all this way?”
He understood perfectly well, yet he wanted to hear her say it herself.
“I…”
Shang Shao kissed her, quietly, gently. “You what?”
“I wanted to…”
Again, the words didn’t come out. Shang Shao kissed her slowly, deliberately, his hand stroking beneath her local robe.
Her face, which had been pale moments ago, now grew flushed and warm.
“Why are you wearing stockings?” His eyes darkened.
“I’m cold…”
They were just a thin layer of sheer stockings – not particularly warm, but at least they kept the wind out. As for the local robe, she had put it on purely as a disguise.
Shang Shao thought of her red carpet appearance. He still hadn’t settled that score with her.
“Why do your fans say, ‘Sweetheart’s legs – worth playing with for years’?”
He said those words in such a serious tone, with such a calm, unruffled look – the dissonance couldn’t have been greater. Yet they sent a wave of tingling softness through Ying Yin’s heart, spreading from her chest like a sweet, aching numbness.
“They’re just talking nonsense… and they’re usually female fans…” Ying Yin’s voice grew quieter. Her breath hitched, and her brows and eyes squeezed tightly shut.
The sunlight baked the inside of the car, but there was also a breeze, creating an illusion that they were almost out in the open.
“When did it get wet?”
Shang Shao rubbed his fingertips together casually, asking even though he already knew the answer.
“Mr. Shang…”
Her heart was lodged in her throat.
Ying Yin was too ashamed to answer. She trembled all over, in fine, unceasing waves. She opened her eyes, wanting to plead with him.
“What do you call me?” Shang Shao’s fingers kept moving, yet his expression remained perfectly proper.
Not at all eager, even seeming distracted – as if he were merely doing her a reluctant favor.
“Brother Ah-Shao…”
Shang Shao lowered his gaze and looked at her from above for a moment. Then the hand that was resting on her shoulder moved to cup her face, tilting it upward to meet his kiss.
Ying Yin’s tongue was drawn out, glistening and water-pink.
The faint sound of the wind couldn’t hide the wet noises – enough to make anyone listening flush from head to toe.
She wanted to struggle, but couldn’t. Shang Shao’s arms held her tight, airtight – a trapping net.
A slow, deliberate sound of tearing. Who knew if the driver could hear it? And if he did, could he possibly imagine what kind of silken fabric had just been torn?
She should have known stockings were useless.
Ying Yin gripped Shang Shao’s shirt collar tightly with both hands, her long legs pressed firmly together.
“Stop the car,” Shang Shao said calmly.
So the man up front understood Chinese after all.
The tall jeep slowly pulled over to the side of the road. The driver-bodyguard didn’t look back. When Shang Shao told him to get out and have a cigarette, he nodded and got out without hesitation.
This place was surreal. There were even ostriches strolling by the roadside.
Ying Yin’s legs hung limply, her toes curling back in helpless tension.
The ostrich walked over, poked half its head through the car window, tilted it sideways, and stared with wide, round eyes.
“Mr. Shang, Mr. Shang… Shang Shao!” Ying Yin struggled violently, her face burning red.
“Let it watch.”
The splashing grew louder, little by little.
Sensing the change in her, Shang Shao’s eyes narrowed. His ever-composed expression suddenly turned fierce. Still moving, he roughly flipped her over in his lap, facing the front seat.
Ying Yin’s heels pressed weakly yet desperately against the edge of the seat, her toes pointed taut.
The ostrich kept watching, utterly fascinated, making curious gurgling sounds in its throat. It seemed to hear the sound of a small rodent chewing grass or drinking water by the savannah – a smacking, juicy sound. The bounty of the Serengeti.
Beneath the clear sky, a series of nearly broken sobs and pleas rang out.
Ying Yin felt as if her heart would burst through her chest. After the long flight, black spots flickered before her eyes. Her slender fingers left red marks on Shang Shao’s arm.
On the beige leather seatback, droplets splattered.
He had turned her over because the previous position would have soaked his own clothes, making it hard to get out of the car.
The veins on the back of his still hand stood out prominently. His full Adam’s apple bobbed several times before Shang Shao finally calmed his breathing.
He was impeccably dressed – not a single wrinkle out of place. He grabbed a tissue but didn’t wipe his hand right away. Instead, he lowered his head and kissed Ying Yin, warm and wet. “Tell me – why did you fly all this way?”
Tears had long since streamed down Ying Yin’s face. Through her blurry, tear-filled eyes, she looked up at him. “I missed you.”
Only then did Shang Shao touch her with that damp hand, his thumb and forefinger cradling her chin as he kissed the corner of her mouth. “I missed you too.”
