Despite having had a day to rest and recover, Xiao Zhan was still exhausted when his plane landed in Dongyang. Unsurprisingly, after his intensive soul-searching episode, it had taken him a while to fall asleep because, by the time his mind had finally agreed to stop rehashing everything in a quest for answers, he'd given himself a head-splitting headache which even paracetamol had struggled to relieve. Only in the early morning hours had he finally managed to find the desperately needed oblivion. Unfortunately, his slumber had been cut short by a test of the building's emergency systems, and no matter how much he'd tried, he'd failed to fall back asleep. Instead, he'd laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind now ironically empty of thoughts.
When he'd finally dragged himself out of bed and come out to the living room, he'd momentarily forgotten about the mess he'd left for himself the previous night, and his first reflex had been to think that someone had tried to burgle his place. This had only lasted a few seconds, but once he'd caught on, he suddenly wished someone had indeed ransacked his apartment: that would have been less tedious than having to go through every item all over again. For a moment, he'd stood there, wondering if he shouldn't just grab a garbage bag and throw the lot away. However, he knew that some of the items, if found by a third party, would cause problems, so he'd put everything in one big box and stashed it back in the closet with the intention of asking Chiyou to find a safe way to destroy it later. It's not that the objects bothered him now, but just like deleting the text thread had been a way to protect Yibo from further harm, getting rid of these mementos was a way to spare himself unnecessary pain once he recovered his emotions. When he was done tidying up, he'd used whatever energy he'd left to pack a travel bag and eat a few bites of leftover congee before laying down on the couch to try and get some more sleep.
And so now he was in Dongyang, on a bus with a few actors and crew members who'd happened to land at a similar time. A few he vaguely knew from other productions they'd worked on together, but the majority of them were strangers to him for the moment, a state of affairs which he found to be ideal. Regardless, after saluting him politely, most of them had engaged in lively conversation with the people they knew or fallen asleep the moment they'd sat down. Completely ignored, Xiao Zhan watched as the leaded-sky scenery rolled by.
When the bus pulled in front of their accommodations, there were a few groans and quiet complaints amongst the crew. A quick peek out the window was enough to confirm Chiyou's warnings about the director being cheap. As he got off the bus, Xiao Zhan took in the industry's most infamous hotel: The Royal Dragon Inn.
In the mid-nineties, when the famed Opium War by director Xie Jin was being filmed at Hengdian World Studios, The Royal Dragon Inn had been in its heyday. Patrons had sung the praises of its top-of-the-line amenities and its world-renowned chef. As the decade unfolded, it had quickly become the spot to run into celebrities. All kinds of gossip had sprung from the establishment, most of it complete drivel, but little had been done to stop the spread of the rumours as they drew customers in. As the studios had exponentially grown in size, other hotels had popped up in the surrounding area to cater to the needs of the increasing number of productions that now flooded Dongyang every year. Unfortunately, the owners of The Royal Dragon Inn, having grown overconfident and convinced of their untouchable success, had refused a generous offer to affiliate themselves with a conglomerate that was now the country's leading player in tourism. For a while, the inn's reputation had indeed been enough to keep them afloat, but soon, the better-equipped, more prestigious hotels had attracted a younger generation of producers and directions whose idea of what opulence looked like had vastly changed. In the early aughts, The Royal Dragon Inn's slow decline had begun in earnest, their revenue now a pale shadow of what it had once been. As a result, the buildings' upkeep had been neglected, and the restaurant closed, the once glamorous dining space only to be rented by production catering teams. All of this had only contributed to accelerating its downfall. These days, the inn was used mainly to house crew when no other option was available. Xiao Zhan had never heard of actors staying there unless they were in a low-budget or amateur production. However, he'd heard stories of black mould behind furniture, rats in the walls, and other unpleasant happenings.
Xiao Zhan wasn't one to brag about his own accomplishment, but for an actor of his renown and calibre, being housed at The Royal Dragon Inn was akin to an insult. If the media got wind that he was staying there, he knew his fans would put up a storm. Normally, he would have called Chiyou on the spot, but right now, he was just too tired, and he didn't want the rest of the crew to think he thought himself above them. He'd always believed it was essential to show solidarity with the people on which the production relied the most. However, more importantly, he once again realized that he didn't care enough to go through all that trouble.
Xiao Zhan walked up the threadbare red carpeted stairs and stepped into the lobby through the tarnished brass and glass revolving doors. The sight that greeted him wouldn't have been out of place in those old series his mother liked to watch. The ceiling was low and hung with too many crystal chandeliers, many of which appeared to be missing pieces, have burnt lightbulbs, or both. The excessive use of white marble and the gold filigree mirrors that covered every wall made the space look gaudy and cheap. At the center, where a sunken sitting area could be found, the furniture appeared scuffed and worn. As for the carpet that tied the whole room together, it would have been hard to say what its original colour or pattern had been. It was almost threadbare in a few areas where people had naturally congregated over and over, namely by the front desk, concierge desk, and a few spots by what must have been a bar by the windows. He couldn't even begin how to imagine how hazy the room would have been before the ban on indoor smoking. Despite all this, the place didn't look dirty. In fact, there didn't appear to be any dust on any of the well-worn surfaces, and there was no concerning smell. Maybe the rumours had been exaggerated after all.
Two middle-aged women dressed in green cheongsams — the hotel staff, no doubt — and holding clipboards were busy distributing keys to disgruntled members of the crew and some minor actors. One of them noticed him and approached.
"Mr. Xiao Xiao Zhan?"
"That's me," he said.
The woman ticked his name off the list and looked back up at him.
"Mr. Xiao, we have you in one of our garden pavilions. This is your key."
She handed him an actual key on a bulky plastic keychain engraved with the outline of a lotus. The last time he'd seen one of those had been when he'd gone on a trip to the middle of nowhere with his parents while in elementary school. Then again, it would have been surprising if they'd used key cards.
"If you walk past the elevator bay, you will see a door that leads to a covered walkway. Just keep going around the pond until you reach the first small building. Your suite is the second one. There is no room service unless your production's catering provides it. Meals will be served in the dining room you see behind you."
Xiao Zhan turned around and could vaguely make out more glitzy chandeliers in a dark room behind closed glass doors off the lobby.
"Do you have any questions?"
He shook his head.
"Please enjoy your stay at The Royal Dragon Inn," she said in a flat voice without waiting for his reply before turning to talk to another crew member.
Xiao Zhan looked around the lobby, and seeing that there didn't see any production staff giving out information, he decided to make his way to his room. Following the instructions, he walked past the elevators in front of which people waited and complained about their slowness, then he quickly found the door leading outside. When he pushed it, it creaked loudly, and he had to push against it with his shoulder to get it to open wide enough for him to walk through. After passing a few AC units and other unsightly small storage sheds any other hotel would have hidden behind a decorative wall, Xiao Zhan stepped into a completely different and unexpected world. There was indeed a pond behind the hotel, but it was much bigger than anything he could have ever imagined. On the far side of it, opposite the covered walkway, it was lined with a series of dark rooms with wall windows. Xiao Zhan wondered if those might not have been used for private gatherings in the past. At the center of the pond stood a small pavilion on stilts, its red paint peeling in numerous places. The whole tableau was completed by a vibrant and lush greenery that grew wildly on almost every surface. As he continued to walk on the wet and mossy stones that made up the path, Xiao Zhan was surrounded by countless winter jasmines and red camellias in full bloom, the mix of their lush perfumes overwhelming his nose. From the way branches hung over, and roots crept across the path, it was clear that this garden received only the bare minimum of care required by health and safety regulations, if even that.
"It must have looked amazing back in the days," said a female voice.
Startled, Xiao Zhan turned around to see Deng JiaJia standing behind him, a small suitcase in tow.
"With the grey sky, it looks gloomy and creepy, don't you think? Like the set of a horror film."
He didn't think one way or the other but nodded to be agreeable.
"Are you in one of the pavilions over there, too?" She asked.
"Yes."
She stared at him for a moment, making him wonder if maybe he'd misheard what she'd said.
"Shall we...?" she asked.
"Of course. Sorry, I'm a little bit tired," he said. This was fast becoming his favourite excuse for everything.
They resumed walking, the sound of Deng JiaJia's suitcase's plastic wheels rolling on stone, joining that of a nearby fountain he could hear but not see.
"I would be tired, too, if I were you," she said
Xiao Zhan stopped dead in his tracks, but as he'd allowed Deng JiaJia to walk ahead, she didn't notice and kept going.
"What do you mean?" He asked, wondering if rumours of what had happened between him and Yibo had somehow spread.
"Well, weren't you in Korea a few days ago? All that flying always tires me a lot."
She turned around.
"Is something wrong?" She said, noticing he'd fallen behind.
"I was tying my shoe," Xiao Zhan replied.
They both looked down at the same time. He was wearing loafers. When their eyes met again, she sported a slight frown and a confused smile. Xiao Zhan faked a laugh.
"I meant adjusting my shoe," he corrected himself while making a show of fiddling with his shoe. "Yes, travelling is always exhausting," he added as he closed the distance between them. "But I hear you got surgery. You must be much more tired than me."
"Oh, it was just dental surgery. Nothing big; my agent was overreacting, as usual."
They stopped in front of a small pavilion that looked like it had come straight out of an old kung-fu movie.
"Well, I guess this is me," she said with a chuckle. "This place... I swear..." She shook her head. "I'd heard of it before but never imagined that I would stay here one day."
Xiao Zhan couldn't quite tell by her tone if she was amused or offended.
"I was angry at first when they said that the producer and director are staying at a brand new hotel nearer to the studio, but I guess I feel a little better now that I know you and Huang Xuan are here, too. Seems he got their "best room" in the main building. I wonder what horrors he'll have to deal with. At least it's only temporary."
"It's temporary?" He said.
She nodded.
"Yes. Didn't you see it in the scheduling documents?"
Xiao Zhan suddenly realized that he hadn't checked if he'd received those as Chiyou had asked. She would probably be annoyed, but now that he was here already, did it really matter? He knew they would most likely receive folders with documents today, and he could always check where he was supposed to go next after returning from Shanghai. Unaware of his inner monologue, Deng JiaJia continued.
"The rumour is there was a planning error. I wouldn't be surprised if someone lost their job over this already. It doesn't really bode well for the rest of the production if they can't even get the accommodations right..."
She shook her head and rolled her eyes.
"Anyway, it's just for two weeks. After we'll be moving somewhere decent. Somewhere with wifi."
"There is no internet?" He asked.
"Well, yes, but only with cables, so there might as well not be any access. I don't think my laptop even has an ethernet port, anyway. If this place wasn't imbued with such a mythical aura and history, I would definitely have complained to my agent to get me out of here. I'm still debating, actually. I just don't want people to think I'm a picky princess. You know how things are... Anyway, at least you and I get to have these little private cabins. I heard the noise insulation is so bad in some parts of the main building that you can hear when someone in the next room takes a tissue out of the box!"
This had clearly been a joke, but Xiao Zhan didn't laugh. By the time he realized he should have, it was too late, and Deng JiaJia had already let out a small embarrassed cough.
"Well, anyway. I guess I'll see you at dinner then," she said before hurrying to unlock her door and disappearing in.
Xiao Zhan suddenly realized that reacting appropriately while interacting with people might turn out to be a bigger challenge than acting on set. He would have to get better at this quickly. Not talking to people would have been an easier solution, but that wasn't an option. With a sigh, he headed to his own small pavilion. Before he opened the door, he noticed a gigantic old willow tree at the end of the path, its canopy extending well into the pond and over the roof of his room. He wondered how long it had been there, unchanging and unaffected by the decline of The Royal Dragon Inn.
The room had probably originally been meant to give a glitzy ancient China feel, but just like the hotel lobby, it looked dated and could have used a makeover. In short, it was the 1980's idea of what the past had looked like. The word tacky was hardly enough to describe the sight.
The inside of the pavilion felt damp, and there was also a weird scent he couldn't quite place. At least the floors were hardwood; he didn't even want to imagine what a carpet would have looked like after so many years of use in such a humid environment.
He took off his shoes and stood in the middle of the room. There was an alcove to the right with a bed. He walked up to it and inspected it. Although the comforter was pilled and faded, there weren't any weird stains, and the sheets were a crisp white. Judging from their roughness, bleach must have been used liberally when washing them. But, at least, they were clean.
He went back to the sitting area, which occupied most of the space. There was an old Jinlipu cathode-ray TV in one corner. The last time he'd seen that tv brand had been at his grandparents' house in the 90s. He didn't bother to try and turn it on; he felt the chances of getting electrocuted were non-negligible. As he'd expected, on a low, worn coffee table sat a folder with the name of the production company and no doubt containing everything he needed to know.
Aside from the one he'd come through, there was only one other door in the room, and it was on the other side of the room, opposite the bed alcove. The doorknob creaked when he turned it. Behind it was a small but fully equipped bathroom with a very old-looking toilet and a bathtub, both an ugly shade of yellow. He'd been expecting a squat toilet, but the hotel had probably seen this Western style model as something fancy to boast about back then. Once again, everything was clean as far as he could tell, but from the sink to the tub, all the ceramic bore rusty water stains. Overall, the place looked pretty bad, both in taste and condition. Chiyou would have been beside herself had she seen this and would have gotten him a new room within the hour, but he could handle it. Probably. After all, he was going to be on set most of the time anyway, and since he didn't really sleep or eat that much right now, it didn't really matter.
When he got to the reception room for the production's inaugural dinner, Xiao Zhan felt for the first time that his inability to care was an advantage. As he walked to his assigned table, it soon became clear that the only topic in everyone's mouth was the horrible condition of their rooms and what they could do to force the production to relocate them as soon as possible.
Once everyone had gathered, the producer and director showed themselves on the dais for the first time. The round of applause was tepid at best. After the producer said a few words, the director, well aware of the mood of the room, immediately reiterated the reasons for their stay in this establishment and reassured everyone repeatedly that this was only a temporary measure and that rehousing would begin at the latest in two weeks if not earlier. Then, he waxed poetic about the history of The Royal Dragon Inn and how it would make for good stories when it was all over. No one bought it, and it was as though the entire room had let out a sigh of relief when, after giving a few bits of information regarding the following day's schedule, he finally stopped talking and raised his glass for a toast. While he'd been trying to pay attention to the director's speech, Xiao Zhan hadn't noticed that his glass had been filled with beer. He knew he probably shouldn't drink, considering the state of his stomach, but taking a small sip probably would be fine, so he raised his glass and drank like everyone else. As soon as everyone began clapping, the catering staff filed out of the kitchen and began pushing around carts loaded with the best Zhejiang cuisine had to offer. The pungent scents of West Lake fish in vinegar, braised bamboo shoots, and Longjing tea prawns — among others — soon saturated the room, momentarily making everyone forget about their lodging woes. As the plates were being loaded on the lazy susan, Xiao Zhan quickly realized that most of these dishes would be too rich and greasy for his stomach to handle and that he would have to make careful choices.
He limited himself to some West Lake beef soup and white rice for the first part of the meal and ate little as he primarily focused on interacting and reacting appropriately with everyone at the table. However, his plan went out the window as soon as, having finished their first servings, people began helping themselves to seconds and going around the room to offer beer and other drinks to the people they knew or their seniors. Xiao Zhan was well-aware that he couldn't avoid doing the same, or he would risk looking rude and aloof. Seeing that the producer and director were already being attended to, he grabbed a bottle of beer, got up, and went to sit in a vacated seat next to Huang Xuan, the other love interest of the series and Deng JiaJia's character's betrothed. The man gave him a warm smile and immediately extended his glass.
"Xiao Zhan! Nice to see you again. Can you believe this place?" He said with a chuckle.
"It sure is something," he replied, trying to sound jolly.
Once Xiao Zhan had filled Huang Xuan's glass, the man took the bottle from him, but seeing that his hands were empty, he grabbed a clean cup from the table and handed it to him. Xiao Zhan realized he'd been naive to think he could avoid drinking if he didn't bring a glass.
"Bottoms up!"
The cups were relatively small, and when he saw Huang Xuan had downed his drink, he could only follow. The man was quick to refill their glasses.
"JiaJia told me you're in one of the infamous pavilions, too. You should have seen her earlier. She was livid. How's yours?"
Xiao Zhan told him.
"It's not that bad," he finished with a shrug.
Huang Xuan gave him an impressed look.
"You're made of stronger stuff than I am; that sounds horrible to me. I've already called my agent to get me out of here. You should come up later and see the state of my room. The water damage stains on the ceiling are so extensive it looks like some kind of modern painting. I know this is a pricy production, but they should have allocated more to the accommodations budget," he said, an expression of disbelief on his face.
Xiao Zhan didn't know how to respond. His usual self probably would've thought the same thing, but right now, he couldn't make himself care. He didn't have the energy for it.
"Anyway. I meant to ask you earlier, but how is Wang Yibo?"
Unexpectedly hearing Yibo's name felt like getting slapped in the face. He blinked a few times. For the second time that day, Xiao Zhan worried that something about their confrontation had leaked. Then he realized that Huang Xuan and Yibo had worked together on Luoyang and that if Deng JiaJia had known Xiao Zhan had been in Korea recently, then there was a chance the man knew, too.
"I hear he's recovering well," he replied, cautious. "Why?"
"Oh. Well, I know you were in Korea recently," he explained, confirming Xiao Zhan's theory. "So I thought maybe you'd linked up with him since I heard you visited him after the accident, but I guess you didn't. Is it true that he lost his memory?"
Before, Xiao Zhan had simultaneously dreaded being asked news of Yibo and hoped that it might help him feel again. It quickly became apparent that it didn't make any difference. Talking about Yibo was like talking about the weather at this point.
"He has memories up to early 2017. Everything after that is gone."
This seemed to pain Huang Xuan.
"That's too bad. He won't remember me, then. We had a good time on set. He's a promising young man."
"He is," agreed Zhan, the void in his chest sucking in any pride or pain he could have felt regarding this fact.
"JiaJia said she heard he's back home now."
"He's out of the hospital, yes."
"No, no. I mean, back in China. She said Weibo is exploding with the rumour that he's going to start working again soon."
"That's good," said Xiao Zhan.
"Well, I see the producer is free, so I'll go and say hello before he's too drunk to register my complaints! Talk to you later," said Huang Xuan before downing the rest of his drink and getting up, bottle in hand.
Xiao Zhan remained seated, his half-full glass of lukewarm beer cradled in his hands, and stared vacantly at the food on the serving plates. Yibo was back in China. Wasn't that... too soon? After all, wasn't he supposed to be doing rehab in Korea? Or maybe he'd been already done when they'd met that night? If that were the case, it was objectively excellent news. And he was going to start working; that was also good news. That meant that Xiao Zhan's sacrifice was already bearing fruit. Of course, there was another, much darker possibility. Had their interaction hurt Yibo so much that he'd decided to abandon rehab?
Xiao Zhan shook his head.
Surely not. Yibo wasn't the kind to give up, after all, was he? But then again, Xiao Zhan had put him through more pain than he'd probably experienced in his entire life. Had he...broken him? No. No, that wasn't possible. Had he been broken, he wouldn't have started working again. The only plausible explanation was that he'd bounced back and, free of him, could now resume his professional life unhindered. This was good, but it also meant their chances of running into each other would increase. At this point, Xiao Zhan couldn't imagine how he would — if at all — react should he meet him without warning. But Yibo would react, of course, wouldn't he? Would he ignore him? Avoid him? He was confident that the man wouldn't openly break down because his control over his public persona was unmatched. However, things had changed since the accident. Xiao Zhan suspected that if one thing had a strong chance of setting him free from this indifference prison he found himself trapped in, it would be to see Yibo carry on as though nothing had happened. Although that was the best outcome for the man, Xiao Zhan assumed it would probably be the most painful for himself.
Xiao Zhan sat on the tiled floor of his pavilion's bathroom, cold sweat pearling on his forehead and running down his back as he shivered. With trembling hands, he closed the lid of the toilet and flushed. After his talk with Huang Xuan, he hadn't remained alone for long and soon, a series of people had come to share a drink and have a chat with him. Doing his best to remain polite, he'd drunk with every single one of them but, worried about what all this alcohol might do on a mostly empty stomach, he'd resigned himself to eating whatever was left of the food in the hopes that it would balance things out. This had been a mistake, the price of which he'd paid immediately as he'd returned to his room and was still paying half an hour later. To make things worse, the grey clouds that had been blanketing the sky since his arrival had finally begun dumping torrential amounts of rain, bringing the humidity level so high the room's ancient AC unit couldn't even begin to combat it. To add to all this, strong winds made the building rattle and creak in a way that would have been worrying had he not known how long this place had been around and survived unscathed.
And so, even though Xiao Zhan was almost certain he was done throwing up, he remained seated in what he hoped was the sturdiest part of the pavilion, simultaneously cold and hot in his damp clothes as he leaned back on the side of the bathtub for support. He stared vacantly ahead as he tried to remember who he'd talked to that evening. Aside from the people already familiar or known to him, he couldn't remember anyone specific. Usually, those inaugural dinners at the beginning of production were always a blast, and he would collapse in bed late at night feeling like time had flown by in a flash, but although his memories weren't clear, he was still left with the impression that the evening had dragged on interminably, and that the majority of his interactions with people had been boring. Normally, he always made a point of remembering something about everyone he talked with, especially since they would spend so much time together on set. Of course, even in the best of conditions, he couldn't memorize everyone's names and stories, but he thought it was a good habit to try and make an effort. Tonight, however, this mission had failed completely. He probably should try harder the next day. Yes, he would try harder again tomorrow. Or whatever. He was so, so tired.
Xiao Zhan dozed on and off for a while as the storm continued to rage outside. Suddenly jerking awake to the sound of thunder, he looked at his watch. Three am. He had to wake up in four hours for breakfast, then, according to the schedule, they would go to Hengdian Dazhi temple to make offerings and pray for a safe and successful shoot. Xiao Zhan's stomach hurt like he'd been stabbed through and through, so he decided it would probably be safe to skip breakfast, but he still needed to sleep. He stretched his arms overhead. His back muscles were stiff, and he could tell his right leg had fallen asleep. Using the tub's edge and the toilet for support, he hoisted himself onto his good leg. Pins and needles assailed him immediately, and he winced. If he tried to walk now, he would probably lose balance and fall face first.
Suddenly, there was a bright flash outside, followed by a deafening crack of thunder. He was trying to remember the last time he'd experienced such a storm when the power went out. Xiao Zhan, still leaning on the counter, froze in place. The room was so black that he couldn't even see his hand in front of his face. Carefully, using the wall as his guide, he took a careful step, then another before he stopped. There was a weird, crackling sound coming from outside. Was something on fire? The noise was familiar to Xiao Zhan, but he couldn't quite place it. He held his breath for a second to try and hear better, but that turned out to be unnecessary. Suddenly, the noise intensified and grew much louder. It sounded like... Wood splintering? As soon as he had the thought, there came an ear-splitting crash.
Xiao Zhan staggered backwards as the entire building shook, and he would have fallen into the bathtub had he not grabbed onto the towel holder, which he nonetheless pulled half-out of the wall. Having found his footing again, he waited to see if anything else would happen, but aside from the pelting of the rain and the howl of the wind sounding somewhat closer, nothing could be heard. Taking his phone out of his pocket, he turned on the flashlight and opened the door to his room.
It took him a moment to understand what he was looking at. Where his bed should have been was a large pile of wet tiles and wooden beams, on top of which rested a massive leafy tree branch. He looked up. There was a large hole in the roof, and rain was pouring in. As he carefully got closer to see better, but not enough to get rained on, Xiao Zhan remembered the large willow tree by the pond. Could it have been hit by lightning? Whatever had happened, judging by the ruin that was now the alcove, had he been sleeping, he would have been gravely injured at best or killed at worse. He knew he should immediately have called Chiyou over this, but he was alive and well now, so that could wait until the next morning.
He suddenly coughed. Despite the rain, there was a lot of fine dust in the air. He wondered if some of this was asbestos.
"Well, the tree didn't kill me, so the asbestos will have to do it, I guess," he said out loud.
The intrusive thought startled him, but he didn't have the time to ponder it over right now; he knew he should probably get out. Especially since it appeared that the branch had also crashed through the roof of Deng JiaJia's pavilion. She might need help, and who knew if someone would notice what had happened until the power was restored?
Xiao Zhan turned around only to realize that the door was obstructed by the fallen branch. His eyes were beginning to water with the particles floating in the air, and his throat was itchy. He decided to climb out a window. Luckily, the pavilion had a big one right next to the entrance, and he was outside, breathing clean air in no time.
Cellphone in hand and rain pelting him relentlessly, he carefully made his way over the fallen debris and to Deng JiaJia's door. He knocked.
"JiaJia. Are you alright?" He called over the howling of the wind.
No answer.
He tried a few times again, but after the fourth, he decided to simply walk in. But, unfortunately, her door was locked, so he had to go through the window again. That, too, was locked, but after a few firm shakes, the lock easily gave. Xiao Zhan stepped inside the dark room, and a quick scan with his phone flashlight was enough to confirm that both pavilions had been built on the same layout, which meant that, in this case, only the bathroom had been hit.
"Deng JiaJia?" He called as he got closer to her bed.
The woman didn't respond. In fact, she didn't even stir.
He was standing by her bedside when he finally made an incredible discovery: lying on her back with her phone by her pillow, Deng JiaJia was still sleeping peacefully.
🟢🔴NOTES🟢🔴
So XZ continues to be unfeeling but now has to work in that state. Just as in the last chapter, I'm still trying to adjust to writing this more cerebral version of him. This chapter is a long one and pretty much came out in one go, with the rewrites being very minimal. It's nice when that happens.
So I was researching the name for that water pavilion XZ saw in the middle of the hotel pond, and apparently, it's called a "ting"(亭). Of course, being the little shit that I am, my brain immediately turned on slapstick mode.
A: What's that thing on the water called?
B: It's a ting.
A: Yes, I know it's a thing. But what is it called?
B: I just told you. It's a TING!
And so on and so forth. I made myself laugh quite a lot and even shared the joke with my sister. I was THAT happy with it. XD
I didn't check the distance between Shanghai and Hengdian World Studios when I wrote that the first screening of XZ's movie was going to be in Shanghai, but it turns out they're (relatively) close. I'll make him fly there, but it would be a 3.5h drive, whereas driving from Dongyang to Beijing would take 15h. Sometimes things work out when you don't even try!
The Royal Dragon Inn XZ is staying at doesn't exist, but I had a lot of fun inventing it. If any of you have travelled to Asia and have had the chance (misfortune?) of staying in a hotel built in the 80s, you'll have an idea of the image I tried to create. Or even if you've just grown up in the 80s as I have, you'll know. The inn kinda came about weirdly, and I really hadn't planned for it, but it will serve its purpose. The tree crashing was also a last-minute addition, turning XZ into a temporary superhero (Here comes UNFEELING MAN!). Also, in case you're worried, Deng JiaJia isn't about to become a competing love interest. Like the inn, she has a purpose to serve. She's just a prop. :P
Ok, that's enough for today!
Happy readings, Lovelies!