Xie Qingci's head was spinning. He didn't even have time to think about which transportation route would be most suitable; he hailed a taxi and headed straight for the destination.
After switching vehicles a few times, the taxi driver refused to go further because it was too far. In the end, he got on an old van heading towards the film crew.
The temperature was rising, and the smell of gasoline in the car was suffocating. He gripped the handrail, pleading with the driver to drive faster.
He couldn't afford to worry about whether there were paparazzi following him, nor did he care about the consequences of his sudden arrival. He just wanted to see Yu Xia as soon as possible.
Calls went unanswered, messages unreplied. The tension in his mind was like a taut, old rubber band about to snap.
At that moment, Yu Xia was sitting outside a mudbrick house, drinking water with one hand.
