Chapter Thirty: Why Are There Scripts Everywhere?!

As one might expect, when the group arrived at the hotel, Ouyang Junyan was nowhere to be found.

Fang Zhiyin kept calling his phone. He had it switched on, but refused to answer.

It was maddening.

Are all teenage boys like this?

"Director, he's not here," Fang Zhiyin said apologetically. "I think I might have to pause filming again..."

"No problem!" the director replied without hesitation. "You can film on your own!"

By myself?

Is it really that casual?

"Here's a script," the director said, producing a thin sheaf of pages as if by magic—five or six sheets at most.

But...

Why hadn’t anyone mentioned memorizing a script?

"Director, why is there a script? There wasn’t one before," Fang Zhiyin asked, bewildered.

"All the guests will have scripts this episode," the director replied, growing a bit impatient. "This one's yours. Just glance over it, and act as you normally would."

"What do you mean, act as I normally would?"

"Just make it so the audience can’t tell you’re acting!"

... This script would suit that twenty-five-year-old puppy-dog husband of hers perfectly!

The script the director handed Fang Zhiyin began with her arriving in Kathmandu, losing contact with the crew, and having to search everywhere for the room she’d reserved. When she finally found it, the guesthouse was fully booked. She wandered the streets for hours, only to discover that every nearby place was full.

It was afternoon, the weather stiflingly hot. Dragging her suitcase behind her, Fang Zhiyin silently cursed the director and screenwriter, but kept a façade of resilience.

She kept searching for somewhere to stay.

By nightfall, she finally found a room in a dilapidated youth hostel—the director’s arrangement, of course.

After putting down her luggage, Fang Zhiyin went to take a shower, only to find there was no hot water.

Shivering, she braced herself for a cold shower.

She planned to rest on the bed and keep trying to contact the crew, but the couple in the neighboring room argued loudly all night, making it impossible to sleep properly or recover.

According to the script, this was her first time traveling on a budget—and in reality, it was indeed Fang Zhiyin’s first such experience. She had been born with a silver spoon, always secure in her comforts. She’d always stayed in star-rated hotels when traveling. The script said she wanted to try a different kind of journey this time, to see what it would be like.

But Fang Zhiyin was more concerned about Ouyang Junyan.

Though the director had promised her before filming began that while she was recording, other staff would go look for Ouyang Junyan, she knew from experience that the director often made empty promises just to appease people.

Ouyang Junyan, where are you?

Later, Fang Zhiyin went out and, as arranged by the crew, was robbed by a biker gang. She was knocked to the ground, scraping her wrist and ankle.

Even though she was following a script, Fang Zhiyin felt truly wronged.

It had already been a full day with no word from Ouyang Junyan.

That evening, she grabbed something to eat from a street vendor and went back to the hostel.

There was nothing more in the script. Fang Zhiyin decided that the next morning, after checking out, she would try again to find news of Ouyang Junyan.

But barely an hour after she’d fallen asleep, she was startled awake to find a strange man standing by her bed, watching her.

“Ah!!”

Frightened, Fang Zhiyin screamed and burst into tears. She shoved past the intruder—who knew how he’d gotten into her room—and ran straight to the front desk to demand an explanation.

The attendant babbled in a language she couldn’t understand. She hurried back to her room, packed her things, and left.

She completely forgot she was still being filmed for the show.

Dragging her suitcase through the night, unable to reach her husband, not knowing whether the crew was following her or not, Fang Zhiyin wandered the streets of Kathmandu, feeling lost and exhausted.

For a moment, she felt like a madwoman.

She had no idea where to go. Was there anywhere still open at such an hour? She no longer dared sleep in an unfamiliar room.

Thinking back to what had just happened, she was still terrified.

“Fang Zhiyin!” Suddenly, as she aimlessly roamed the midnight streets of Kathmandu, she heard someone calling her from behind.

Who was it?

Could it be a ghost?

Her heart began to pound. She didn’t dare look back, and broke into a brisk jog, hurrying forward in silence.

The person who called after her saw her suddenly break into a run. Unsure what was happening, he started running after her.

The two of them ran through the midnight streets, one after the other. If this were a movie scene, it would be both comical and melodramatic.

“Fang Zhiyin!” Ouyang Junyan shouted again.

This time, Fang Zhiyin snapped out of her daze. She recognized Ouyang Junyan’s voice instantly, stopped abruptly, and spun around.

Ouyang Junyan stood three meters away, watching her.

The instant she saw it really was him, Fang Zhiyin’s eyes turned red.

“Ouyang!” she called, rubbing her eyes in disbelief, thinking she must be dreaming. “Is it you? Is it really you?!”

It didn’t matter which Ouyang Junyan was standing in front of her.

As long as it was him.

“It’s me! I came here just to find you!” Ouyang Junyan jogged over and stopped in front of her. “Are you all right?”

“Oh my god! Where have you been all day? And how did you find me?” Fang Zhiyin looked up at him, dazed, unable to tell which personality he was.

Was the real Ouyang Junyan back?

No matter!

She couldn’t help but throw her arms around his waist. The solidity of his body melted away her fear and helplessness. It was only in this embrace that she realized how much she still cared for Ouyang Junyan, even if he might not feel much for her.

“I went from hostel to hostel searching for you. Plus, I read that backpackers always stay in this area, so…” He paused, then gave her a brilliant smile. “No matter where you are, I’ll always find you. Because I’m the one who loves you most!”

What? Fang Zhiyin froze. That sounded a little too much like a line from a script.

A moment later, Ouyang Junyan winked at her.

No way—was this really the script?