Chapter Thirteen: Carrying Beauty Through the Night

Xu Shu might have been so shaken by the fall that she sat in the snow for a long time before responding, her head spinning and her senses muddled. She didn’t even look at me, only muttered a “thank you,” grabbed my arm with one hand and braced herself on the ground with the other, trying to stand. But as soon as she put weight on her foot, she cried out in pain and plopped right back down onto the snow.

To my astonishment, tears immediately welled up in those shining, star-like eyes of this superstar idol. She bit her lip hard, just managing not to let them fall, but the pain was too much. She held her right ankle, her voice trembling, “My foot, it hurts so much!”

I squatted beside her, looking at her unusually long legs. “Is it your ankle? Maybe it’s sprained. Try moving it a little—see if you can.”

Obediently, Xu Shu tried to rotate her ankle. Instantly, her whole body shuddered with pain, and she could only gasp, biting one hand to stifle her cry. Large tears finally spilled from her eyes. Not wanting me to see her cry, she quickly turned away.

Feigning ignorance, I asked, “Does it hurt a lot?”

Xu Shu didn’t answer, just wiped her tears in silence.

I continued, “Seems pretty serious! You should get to a hospital right away. Where are your agents and bodyguards? Why aren’t they with you?”

She clearly realized I had recognized her. She turned back, finally giving me a good look before dropping her gaze. “They’re holding off the fans for me. I slipped out alone—otherwise I’d never get away. The fans are just too enthusiastic.”

I nodded to show I understood. She was still sitting on the snow; by now, her pants must be soaked through. “You can’t just sit here. You should call them. If you get treatment earlier, you’ll recover sooner.”

She nodded and started looking around.

“What are you looking for? Can I help?” I asked.

“My bag. When I fell from the stairs, I don’t know where it landed. Could you…help me find it?”

I stood and picked up her hat, then found her handbag on the stairs. When I turned back, I saw Xu Shu struggling to get up on one leg, hands braced on the snow.

I hurried over. “Do you need a hand?” No sooner had I spoken than she gripped my arm for balance, steadying herself. She gave me an embarrassed smile. “Sorry.”

Tear stains still marked her beautiful face, but her smile was dazzling, enchanting, impossible to ignore. Even with my usual self-control, my heart skipped a beat and I dared not look at her too long, quickly lowering my head.

She stood on one leg, keeping her injured foot lifted, using both hands to grip me tightly for fear of falling again and hurting her foot worse.

I handed her the hat and bag. “Here, I found your bag.”

She took the hat first, putting it on hastily, then the bag, apologizing with a gentle smile, “I’m so sorry—I have no other choice but to borrow your arm for a bit.” With one hand still looped around my arm, she opened her bag.

I smiled back, thinking to myself that I would help anyone in trouble, let alone someone so famous and beautiful.

She found a delicate cellphone in her bag, flipped it open, and started searching her contacts. Suddenly, she paused, pressing the phone to her chin, half to herself and half to me, “No, if they come pick me up, the omnipresent reporters will catch on. If they see me like this, I’ll be on the front page tomorrow looking a mess. That’s too horrible to imagine—I can’t make this call.”

She frowned, clearly troubled. “But your foot needs a hospital, and there’s no transportation here. How will you get there on one foot?”

“But if the reporters show up…I can’t risk it. For us entertainers, image is everything. What if tomorrow’s paper says, ‘Singer Xu Shu sneaks out the back door to avoid meeting passionate fans, ends up with a broken leg,’ with a photo of me limping, being helped along? I might as well be dead.” Her determination was clear—she’d rather endure the pain than let the reporters find out.

I couldn’t help but laugh. Was it really so serious? I wasn’t a celebrity and didn’t understand their mindset, but her fear of the press was almost comical. “The nearest Red Cross Hospital is on Wuyi Road, about five kilometers away. There are barely any houses on this stretch, so you won’t find a taxi. With all this snow, how will you get there?”

Xu Shu tilted her head, her dark eyes darting as she thought. Suddenly, she looked at me, and in a sweet voice, began, “Big brother…” She stopped, cheeks flushing with embarrassment—a shy expression that, on such a peerlessly beautiful face, nearly gave me a heart attack. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I realized few men could stand being near her for long; the effect was simply too strong.

Luckily, she didn’t notice my discomfort. After some hesitation, she said softly, “I can tell you’re a good person, and I owe you for your help. But now, I really have no other way. Could you…could you…” Her voice trailed off, almost inaudible.

I immediately understood. “Carry you to the hospital?”

She didn’t respond, just looked at me pleadingly with those luminous eyes. My resolve melted. What man could refuse such a request? I gave a wry smile and sighed, crouching down.

She grinned mischievously and put her arms around my shoulders. “Then I won’t stand on ceremony. Careful with my foot—ouch, gently, it hurts.” I hadn’t even lifted her yet. I slid my arms under her legs and stood.

Xu Shu was tall for a woman—at least 1.7 meters, I guessed—but she felt surprisingly light, though her trousers were cold and damp. “Hold on tight, I’m going to start walking,” I said, struggling through the snow.

I was careful, fearing I might slip and hurt her further. Xu Shu clung tightly to my neck, pressing herself close, clearly afraid I might drop her and her injured foot might touch the ground.

After a few steps, she asked, “Am I heavy?”

“Not really,” I replied.

“Oh? I’ve been dieting lately, worried you’d think I weigh too much.”

“Really?” I tried to laugh but couldn’t. She probably weighed just over 100 pounds—thin for her height. If even she needed to lose weight, what hope was there for anyone else?

When we reached Wuyi Road, the place was deserted—not a taxi or even a person in sight. It seemed I really would have to carry her the whole way. Five kilometers! It would be exhausting even without carrying another person.

I must be insane, I thought, resigning myself and hoisting her higher before continuing toward the Red Cross Hospital.

Xu Shu asked, “How was my performance at the concert earlier?”

“I didn’t go, but my little sister did. She’s your biggest fan—she’s bought every one of your albums and probably knows every song.”

“Really?” Xu Shu sounded delighted. “So why were you near the stadium? I thought you were a fan who hadn’t left yet.”

“My sister went to the concert. I came to pick her up, but she took a taxi home on her own, so I made the trip for nothing.”

“Oh? You must really care for your sister, coming out on such a snowy night to fetch her.” Suddenly she giggled, “Be honest—is she really your girlfriend?”

“Of course not, she’s my real sister, same parents and all.”

“You’re such a good brother. By the way, you’ve been carrying me for ages, but I don’t even know your name.”

“I’m Tang Qian.”

“How do you write that?”

“Tang, as in the Tang dynasty; Qian, as in migration.”

“Tang Qian, I’ll remember it. I’ll be sure to thank you properly in the future.”

“It’s nothing—helping people is its own reward, and you’re my sister’s favorite star.”

“So I’m lucky to have your sister as a fan! Do you like my songs?”

“Me? They’re alright. I don’t listen to much music, but I heard one of your songs the other day and thought it was great.”

“Really? Which one?”

“I don’t know the title. I remember a few lines…something like, ‘When I decided to love, my heart was empty,’ and then…”

As I spoke, Xu Shu softly began to sing on my back: “When I decided to love, my heart was hollow. I couldn’t see what lay ahead, shrouded in mist…”

Even without accompaniment, her voice was hauntingly beautiful. She had a naturally magnetic voice and a strong musical sense—she could sing anywhere, anytime, and it would sound wonderful.

When she finished, I praised her, “Yes, that’s the song. You sing it beautifully.” By now, I was truly tired, my breath coming hard. Chatting with her was becoming a struggle.

Xu Shu, sensitive as ever, noticed my exhaustion. “You must be really tired. Put me down and rest for a bit.”

Too proud to admit it, I said, “Of course not, you’re so light it’s no trouble at all.” I hitched her up again and trudged on.

She was quiet for a while, then said, “Let me sing you a few more songs, maybe it’ll make things easier.” I laughed, “That would be great. Tonight I must be especially lucky—how many lifetimes would I need to get a private concert from the famous Miss Xu Shu?”

Xu Shu giggled, “You seemed so serious before—when did you become so glib?” My face flushed with embarrassment. Tang Qian, I reproached myself, you were never like this before—how could you lose your composure just because of a pretty face?

As I berated myself, Xu Shu started singing again, softly: “Sing all the way, through the evening light; sing all the way, to drive away the dark. Laugh as much as you want, wherever you go. The more you walk, the lighter the load, as long as you keep singing…”

Under the dim streetlights, the road ahead seemed endless, yet I felt no impatience. Carrying a beauty on my back, accompanied by her song, it was as if I were walking on clouds, drifting along with the wind…