Chapter Ninety-One
"Sister Zhan."
The knocking outside the door grew increasingly urgent. In the brief pauses between knocks, Su Zan's voice sounded like muffled thunder rolling above the clouds, suppressed and urgent: "Something's happened."
Those three short words seemed to squeeze through the cracks in the door, rough and low.
Shen Qianzhan's last traces of drowsiness completely evaporated in this frantic, unreasonable morning.
She got up to answer the door.
As soon as her feet touched the floor, an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back onto the bed.
Ji Qinghe glanced down, hinting at her current attire.
She wasn't wearing a bra, and the low neckline of her top fully exposed the love bites on her chest. The cutouts on both sides of her waist revealed skin as pale and smooth as satin, making her already slender waist appear even more delicate.
This silk nightgown was short, thin, and form-fitting, not only visually provocative but also particularly arousing.
Shen Qianzhan belatedly realized this and silently glanced at him.
Ji Qinghe gave her a light hug, soothing her: "Don't rush. I'll answer the door. You go change in the bathroom."
He stepped past Shen Qianzhan, barefoot on the floor, walked to the door, and glanced back. Seeing that she had taken her clothes into the bathroom, he slightly turned and opened the door.
Outside stood Su Zan, the production manager, the life coordinator, and the assistant director responsible for supervising costumes and props.
When they faced each other, everyone except Su Zan was taken aback, their expressions unclear as they looked at Consultant Ji, who was shirtless in Shen Qianzhan's room.
Inside, the phone continued to ring stubbornly.
Ji Qinghe quickly withdrew his assessing gaze and looked at Su Zan: "What happened?"
Su Zan countered: "Where's Sister Zhan?"
His expression was urgent, his brow clouded as if shrouded in an impenetrable gloom.
Seeing his expression, Ji Qinghe knew the issue with the crew was significant and extremely troublesome.
His heart sank. He stepped aside, gesturing for them to come in. He was the last to enter, closing the door, picking up the shirt hanging on the sofa, putting it on in a few quick motions, and sitting down.
Su Zan was so anxious he seemed on the verge of combustion. Several times he opened his mouth to speak but held back because Ji Qinghe was present, forcing himself to wait patiently.
Before long, the bathroom light went off. Shen Qianzhan changed her clothes and came out.
The whole process hadn't taken long, but the matter awaiting her was so urgent that Su Zan felt as if he had waited through countless moonrises and moonsets, through entire seasons, an eternity.
He rushed forward, his lips trembling slightly, as if struggling to speak, mustering some effort before finally saying: "A crew member who was watching the props last night died suddenly."
Shen Qianzhan froze, thinking she had misheard: "Died suddenly?"
She instinctively looked at the others who had come with Su Zan. Upon meeting her gaze, they all fell silent, lowered their heads, and avoided eye contact.
"Yes, died suddenly." Su Zan spoke with difficulty: "The crew member who died suddenly is surnamed Chen, from the props department. Last night was his shift, guarding the antique clock. This morning, the life coordinator went to deliver breakfast, knocked but got no response, so he hung the breakfast on the doorknob. When the shift changed at eight, the replacement crew member went in and found Old Chen already cold."
Shen Qianzhan's vision blurred momentarily, as if large patches of white snowflakes obscured her sight.
Her face turned as pale as paper, looking extremely grim.
The annoying phone ringtone started again after a brief silence.Shen Qianzhan suddenly turned her head, staring fixedly at the phone on the bedside table.
At this moment, she had absolutely no time to deal with this call.
The news Su Zan brought was too sudden, leaving her somewhat unable to process it.
It wasn’t unheard of for accidents resulting in death to occur on film sets, but Shen Qianzhan’s crew had always prioritized safety. Before filming began, everyone from the director and actors down to every crew member had purchased personal insurance.
Working hours were also reasonably flexible, never blindly rushing progress or endlessly exploiting labor.
How could… an accident have happened?
The more she thought about it, the colder her heart grew. It was as if she had stumbled while climbing high, her foot missing solid ground, leaving her suspended mid-air, her heart pounding with panic.
Her icy fingers pressed against her lips, forcing herself to calm down quickly and think of a solution.
But the more critical the moment, the more things seemed to fall apart.
Her mind felt as if it were tied in knots; in her daze, she didn’t even know where to begin.
The annoying ringtone persisted, and her thoughts seemed to freeze over, a vast expanse of ice, blank and empty.
Standing in the draft, she shivered so hard her teeth chattered. Her internal organs felt twisted and tangled, aching faintly.
Gradually, she began to sway unsteadily. Her fingers curled as she leaned against the wall, slowly easing the gnawing, biting pain.
The first to notice her distress was Ji Qinghe.
He rose unobtrusively and walked to her side. His palm rested lightly on her shoulder, and he reminded her in a low voice, "Answer the phone first."
The phone had been ringing since eight o’clock, over and over without pause—clearly, whoever was calling had something urgent to discuss.
Shen Qianzhan looked up at him.
Ji Qinghe subtly supported her lower back, waiting until she stood straight before letting go to fetch the phone for her.
With his gentle touch and support, her physical discomfort eased slightly.
When she took the phone and answered the call, Shen Qianzhan’s tone had returned to its usual businesslike coolness, her words fast and steady: "Please get straight to the point." She omitted the subject, turning slightly away and lowering her voice: "I have urgent business to attend to here. Can you finish in one minute?"
Shen’s Mother, finally hearing the call connect, cleared her hoarse throat. The exhaustion of a sleepless night washed over her as she spoke: "Dengdeng, I haven’t been able to reach your father since last night. His phone has been unreachable every time I call. I’m worried…"
Her voice broke, choked with emotion: "I’m worried something has happened."
"I also called the fishing friends Old Shen went out to sea with, but none of them can be reached. I was afraid it might be a false alarm, so I kept calling and calling, staying up all night. But by eight this morning, he was still missing. I don’t know what to do, I have no idea…"
Shen Qianzhan stood frozen in place, clutching the phone, motionless.
The air from the air conditioner felt like melting Arctic glaciers, chilling her to the bone. Even the sunlight streaming into the room couldn’t immediately dispel the coldness in her heart.
She opened her lips, wanting to say something, but the words vanished before they could form.
No sound came out; she couldn’t speak. The heat from the phone receiver against her ear stung faintly.
She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, her gaze was unfocused, as if she had lost her bearings, unable to see the path ahead clearly.
It felt as if her heart had been torn open, someone relentlessly filling it with stones until it grew heavier and heavier, finally sinking into the frozen sea—cold and bitter.She wanted to say she couldn’t leave now—there was a crew member who had died unexpectedly on set. The cause of death needed to be determined, the family had to be notified, and the insurance company had to be contacted for compensation. There was a pile of things to handle.
But she couldn’t bring herself to say it.
Old Shen had gone out to sea and lost contact—this wasn’t a minor incident like cutting a finger while chopping vegetables or tripping while walking.
She could imagine how Shen’s Mother, after calling all night, had gradually sunk into despair and fear, and how she had turned to her for help with such hope. But with both crises happening at once, she struggled to balance her responsibilities as a producer with her duty as a daughter. It was like a lone sailboat that could only head toward one shore.
This sense of helplessness slowly swallowed her whole, then tore her apart in an instant, scattering her into the sea like dust.
Her lips trembled, and for a moment, she said nothing.
Yet, the prolonged silence only deepened the anxiety for both Shen’s Mother and Su Zan. It was like being trapped in a dead end, with all paths blocked, waiting for the air to run out and slowly suffocate.
Shen Qianzhan’s head throbbed with pain.
She curled her fingers and pressed her knuckles hard against the space between her eyebrows.
Just as the stalemate dragged on, Ji Qinghe took the phone from her palm. He gave her a deep, steady, and calm look. “I overheard some of it. If you trust me, leave your father’s matter to me.”
He tilted his head slightly, covering the receiver, signaling her not to worry and to focus on handling the issues on set.
His gaze was deep and bright, carrying a force that shattered the invisible glass cage trapping her.
It was as if Shen Qianzhan had only just awakened—she was no longer alone.
When facing storms, it was best to withstand them herself. But when she was powerless and stretched thin, she had another shortcut to the mountaintop, someone she could rely on with peace of mind.
This strange sense of trust was something he could make her feel utterly secure without saying a word; it was the calm and composure of knowing he was behind her, always providing a way out.
It felt both unfamiliar and new.
—
Ji Qinghe took the call and introduced himself first. “Hello, Auntie. This is Ji Qinghe.”
He didn’t elaborate much about himself. As he spoke, he gently closed the door behind him and walked to the observation deck at the end of the hallway.
Shen’s Mother had already pieced together her memories of him from the brief exchange she’d overheard between Ji Qinghe and Shen Qianzhan.
Truth be told, Ji Qinghe had left too deep an impression on her. Even after just one meeting on New Year’s Eve, she remembered this young man with exceptional grace and presence clearly.
“Mr. Ji.”
Ji Qinghe paused slightly before replying, “Auntie, you can just call me Qinghe.” He briefly mentioned that Shen Qianzhan was busy, his voice calm and unhurried. “Please tell me about your husband’s situation again. I’ll see if I can help.”
Shen’s Mother sighed and repeated what she had just told Shen Qianzhan.
After pondering for a moment and asking a few more questions, Ji Qinghe reassured her, “Most islands in the coastal waters are leased to seafood farmers. The shipping routes for transporting seafood are usually well-established. If your husband took the same route as before, he likely didn’t encounter any safety issues. It’s probably the heavy rain affecting the signal, which is why you can’t reach him.”
He spoke steadily, with reason and logic, avoiding any subjective speculation."Qianzhan is currently unable to get away. If you feel comfortable with it, please note down my contact information and send me Uncle's sailing route for this trip. I'll contact the maritime rescue team as soon as possible and head over together." Ji Qinghe held the phone, pausing briefly before adding, "Originally, I had planned to visit you both with Qianzhan the day after tomorrow. This situation came up unexpectedly, so I apologize for the lack of proper etiquette."
Shen's Mother had already considered this possibility earlier. Hearing him say this now, her heart settled considerably, and she quickly agreed, "It's us who are troubling you."
After hanging up, Shen's Mother sniffled, her heart, which had been hanging all night, finally easing slightly.
She soon pulled herself together and sent over Old Shen's sailing route, phone number, and the contact information of his fishing companions.
—
At the same time.
Having regained her professional composure, Shen Qianzhan immediately decided to go to the scene.
"Has the police been called? What about the ambulance?"
"Is there anyone watching the scene?"
"Who else in the crew knows about this?"
Her tone was steady and rapid, firing off a barrage of questions one after another.
"The police have been called," replied the assistant director. "Assistant Qiao and two other crew members who have been responsible for looking after the ancient clock are staying at the scene."
Shen Qianzhan asked, "What about the crew member who went to take over the shift this morning?"
"That crew member is also surnamed Chen, from the same hometown as Old Chen. To distinguish them, we all call him Little Chen. He's also from the props department." As they walked down the corridor, the assistant director lowered his voice and said, "Little Chen is quite shaken up. I had someone take him to the next room to rest and also kept all relevant staff under supervision."
"Well done." Shen Qianzhan stepped into the elevator first and pressed the floor button. "Have the hotel and Old Chen's family been notified?"
"Not the family yet," the production manager chimed in. "'Sudden death' is just our own assumption for now. The exact cause of death will have to wait until the police arrive before we can determine it."
Shen Qianzhan frowned and said, "Find out about Old Chen's family situation and notify them as soon as appropriate."
Old Chen had died unexpectedly while on duty. Regardless of the cause, the crew would have to compensate the family.
Though she felt regret over the loss of a life, the best course of action now was to handle the matter officially, minimizing any negative impact first, and then slowly negotiate the compensation process later.
She sighed and rubbed her throbbing temples. "What about Director Shao and Teacher Fu?"
"Director Shao started work early. The filming crew knows nothing about it."
Shen Qianzhan nodded. "Notify them when their cooperation is needed. Keep the news from leaking."
She instinctively reached for her phone, only to remember it had been taken by Ji Qinghe. Concerned about the situation with Shen's Mother, she stepped out of the elevator and was about to ask Su Zan to find Ji Qinghe when Su Zan's phone rang first.
Su Zan had been badly shaken this morning, his face still pale and not yet recovered. Hearing the ringtone, he flinched reflexively.
Upon seeing the caller ID, he handed the phone to Shen Qianzhan. "It's Mr. Ji."
Shen Qianzhan took it, but before she could speak, he said, "I've already contacted the maritime rescue team regarding Uncle. I'm going over personally to check on the situation. According to Auntie, Uncle is likely just out of contact due to a signal interruption. I asked the rescue team captain, and he said that route is near the coast, with fishing boats and merchant ships passing by regularly, and frequent patrols by the coast guard. Safety shouldn't be a major concern, so you can rest assured."The room specially cleared for the antique clock was at the end of the corridor. Shen Qianzhan paused, signaling Su Zan and the others to go ahead first, saying she would join them shortly.
“Are you going over there?” Shen Qianzhan asked, somewhat uneasy.
“If I’m not there in person, no one will feel at ease. Besides…” Ji Qinghe paused before continuing, “If anything unexpected happens, it’s better for me to be on-site to make decisions immediately.”
He didn’t elaborate further, taking his car keys and heading toward the parking lot. “What’s the situation on your end?”
“Not entirely clear yet. The assistant director has reported it to the police, and we’re waiting for them to arrive.”
“According to legal regulations, if an employee hired by the company falls ill and dies during working hours and at the workplace, the legal responsibility generally falls on the film and television company.” Ji Qinghe’s tone was steady as he lowered his voice. “You need to prepare to face the family and try to avoid conflicts.”
“I know.” Shen Qianzhan’s mood sank, and an indescribable sense of bitterness welled up inside her. “Be careful.”
Ji Qinghe hummed softly in acknowledgment. “Don’t worry, we’ll stay in touch.” After a pause, he added, “I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
Shen Qianzhan replied, “Okay.”
It was rare for the two of them to speak so calmly and peacefully over the phone.
Despite the chaotic and tumultuous morning, her heart remained steady, beating calmly in her chest.
She knew she had a lot to say and many emotions to express, but she and Ji Qinghe were each preoccupied with their own responsibilities—one holding down the fort at the film set, the other navigating the vast ocean. They were both busy moving in their respective directions.
There was no time to soothe these restless, uneasy feelings.
Overwhelmed with emotions, she softly said after a long pause, “Ji Qinghe, thank you.”
There was silence on the other end for a few seconds before he responded, “Do we need to be so formal?”
Shen Qianzhan turned around, her back to the corridor.
The sunlight was gentle, filtering through the branches and seeping into the corners of the walls in countless delicate rays.
Watching the tiny, swirling dust particles in the beams of light, she whispered in defense, “It’s not about being formal.”
She simply wanted to express her gratitude.
On the other end of the phone, the sound of a car door closing echoed, followed by the engine starting and the fuel gauge needle flickering slightly.
Ji Qinghe asked, “Where’s Su Zan? Pass the phone to him.”
Shen Qianzhan glanced back at Su Zan standing by the doorway of the room and replied, “He’s a bit far from me. Should I relay the message for you?”
“You can’t relay this.” As the car’s audio system began playing a soft melody, he lowered his voice and said, “Asking him to look after you is something I need to say personally to show sincerity.”
OpenNovel