Beg Me to Remarry-Chapter 90 - 0 Journey
Chapter 90: 090 Journey
Chapter 90: 090 Journey
She originally said she would return alone and let Luo Qinghe and Bai Wei do whatever they pleased, but unfortunately, they disagreed and followed her back.
When the power went out, Bai Wei clutched onto Luo Qinghe’s arm: “Why has the power gone out? Are we going to die?”
“Maybe,” Luo Qinghe said without any warmth in his voice. However, he did not pull his hand back; instead, he patted Bai Wei’s arm in a comforting manner.
Once Bai Wei saw her chance, she immediately leaned her head on Luo Qinghe’s shoulder: “Then, could you kiss me before I die?”
“No,” Luo Qinghe refused bluntly. He moved his shoulder as he spoke, but Bai Wei stayed firmly leaned against him as if she hadn’t felt it at all.
“You think just because you said ‘no,’ it means no?” Bai Wei acted swiftly, hugging Luo Qinghe’s neck and planting a loud kiss on his cheek.
Luo Qinghe pushed Bai Wei away as if he had been electrocuted; his breathing in the darkness became obviously rougher: “Bai Wei, you’re really crazy.”
Suddenly, the lights came back on. Bai Wei and Luo Qinghe instinctively looked up and met Fu Han’s gaze. She knelt on the seat in front, leaning on the backrest with a smile in her eyes as she watched them.
“When did you start enjoying peeping?” Bai Wei’s face turned red, a rare show of shyness from her.
Luo Qinghe coughed awkwardly, and stiffly changed the subject: “When do you think we will be able to land safely?”
“I don’t know,” Fu Han said with a smile, her tone meaningful: “If something happens to us, do you have any regrets?”
Bai Wei immediately turned her head to look at Luo Qinghe, her beautiful face showing a rare nervousness; clearly, she was also focused on what Luo Qinghe was saying.
Luo Qinghe looked out the window, and coincidentally, another bout of thunder rolled. His usually playful peach-blossom eyes took on a rare seriousness: “Of course there are regrets, but isn’t this also a kind of completion?”
Someone exclaimed, “Let’s write our wills now while we still have power.”
At these words, there was a collective response.
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Fu Han took out a notebook and three pens from the small backpack she carried and handed one each to Luo Qinghe and Bai Wei: “Better safe than sorry, regardless of whether we have regrets, we should at least explain things to some people.”
Bai Wei had wanted to dig deeper into the meaning of Luo Qinghe’s words, but thinking that life was nearly at its end, she felt that fretting over such things was pointless.
Those with paper and pens began writing their wills. For a moment, the large cabin was silent, amplifying the terror of the storm outside.
Fu Han stared at the blank paper on the small table, struggling internally. Eventually, she carefully wrote down two words: “He Xing…”
After finishing, she placed the will inside her wallet’s inner pocket and cautiously stored the wallet in the deepest part of her bag, for fear of losing it.
The plane flew erratically forward, and everyone in the cabin was terrified. The flight attendants’ attempts to soothe the passengers were futile; many had already started crying.
No one knew how much time had passed when the thunder outside suddenly ceased, and the sky began to brighten.
The captain’s voice announced: “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m honored to tell you that we have successfully passed through the dangerous area, and the plane will land at A City Airport in two hours.”
Fu Han let out a sigh of relief. She tightened her grip on the bag she was holding, her mind filled with countless Thoughts.
The rest of the journey went smoothly, the fog lifted, and the sky outside the window became clear. She could see the heavy snow falling, like a grand welcome feast.
Two hours later, Fu Han, Luo Qinghe, and Bai Wei emerged side by side with their luggage. If it weren’t for Bai Wei’s numerous belongings taking so long to collect, they probably would have left the airport by now.
At the gate, Fu Han waved to the other two: “The Antarctica trip is over, everyone to their own homes. Until we meet again someday.”
Their homes were all in different directions; sharing a cab would have been out of the way, and Fu Han wasn’t planning on taking a cab anyway, as she intended to take the subway.
Bai Wei seemed determined to stick with Luo Qinghe. After waving goodbye to Fu Han, she followed Luo Qinghe out.
Within the bustling crowd, Fu Han was as inconspicuous as a drop of water entering the sea, no longer visible.
She never liked crowded places and even had a bit of claustrophobia. But today, when the plane was in trouble, she almost thought she was surely going to die. Now, in the midst of the crowd, she unexpectedly felt a rare sense of security.
Suddenly, she heard someone calling, “Xiaohan!”
Fu Han looked around but didn’t see any familiar faces. She laughed at herself, thinking, who knew she was coming back, how could anyone be here to pick her up?
She had only taken a couple of steps when the call for “Xiaohan” came again. This time it was clearer than before, and she stopped to look around once more.
Suddenly her pupils dilated. Who could it be five meters away from her if not He Xing?
It wasn’t her hallucination; she hadn’t been imagining things.
Tears suddenly filled Fu Han’s eyes, and from across a few people, she gave He Xing a smile. But in that moment, her smile seemed weak, like a morning glory wilting under a setting sun.
He Xing pushed through the crowd and walked towards Fu Han, opening his arms to engulf her in an embrace: “Xiaohan, you’re finally back.”
His voice was slightly choked, as if something was stuck in his throat; he held her with so much force, as if he wanted to crush her.
Fu Han’s hand, raised to push He Xing away, hung in midair, ultimately never coming down.
She sighed silently to herself: “It’s just a hug, nothing more. Don’t overthink it.”
The crowd surged around them, indifferent passersby glancing over at the embracing pair; every person in this world has their stories, and no one pauses even briefly for someone else’s narrative.
Outside the airport, a barren ground was covered with a thin layer of snow, occasionally revealing dark and yellow earth beneath. The wind howled, as if trying to lift the crown of the sky.
He Xing draped his wool coat over Fu Han’s shoulders: “Why are you wearing so little? Be careful not to catch a cold. I’ll go buy you a few down jackets in a while.”
“No need,” Fu Han’s mood had stabilized, and she calmly looked at He Xing as though he was just another ordinary friend: “I don’t like to wear too much in winter, and besides, I don’t think it’s cold here.”
Indeed, how could it be cold compared to Antarctica, where water throws turned to ice? It was clearly very warm here.
Thinking thus, she involuntarily sneezed, eliciting from He Xing a quick gesture to take her to the nanny car.
The car’s heater was turned up high, and Fu Han took off the wool coat, revealing just a short light-green fleece sweater. During her movements, a small section of her waist was exposed, white and tender, like a peeled egg.
