Nie Jun grabbed two spare sets of clothes before heading back to his room. He took a shower, changed into something dry, then washed the entire soaked outfit.
This cruise ship was huge. Even the bodyguards had decent rooms—mostly doubles or triples, the only difference being they didn’t have a sea view.
He hung his wet clothes in a ventilated spot. He figured they’d be dry in about two hours.
He’d been on night duty, awake all night, and that morning he’d been in the water, then out in the cold sea wind. Even though he was strong, he still decided to rest for two hours.
A knock on the door woke him. He opened his eyes, checked the time, and realized it was already afternoon. He’d slept too long.
He assumed it was Hai Ming, so he got up and opened the door—only to see Kong Wenyu standing there. Because of their height difference, Kong Wenyu had to slightly lift his eyelids to look at him.
Nie Jun paused, hand still on the doorknob. Before Kong Wenyu could speak, he said first, “The captain isn’t here.”
Even though he had just woken up, he didn’t look groggy at all. He seemed completely alert.
Kong Wenyu quietly looked at him for a few seconds and said, “I’m not looking for him.”
Nie Jun stayed where he was, no longer trying to say anything on his own.
Kong Wenyu waited for a moment. When he saw no reaction, his gaze grew sharper.
“You’ve been in the room all day?”
Nie Jun worried he might think he’d ignored his orders, so he explained, “After I cooled off, you said I could come back, so I did.”
Kong Wenyu’s brow lowered slightly. “Blaming me?”
Nie Jun froze. “No.”
Kong Wenyu stared at him for a moment, then finally looked away. “Once we’re on the island, you stay with me.”
“Okay,” Nie Jun replied.
Kong Wenyu seemed about to leave after giving his instructions. He glanced at Nie Jun twice, his steps hesitating slightly.
“Nothing you want to say to me?”
Nie Jun assumed he was referring to what had happened that morning in the hot spring. He thought for a moment and said, “I don’t know.”
Kong Wenyu’s gaze grew slightly complicated.
A moment later, he turned his eyes away, his expression colder than before.
Nie Jun sharply sensed that he seemed truly displeased. Just as Kong Wenyu was about to leave, he couldn’t help but call out, “Are you angry?”
Kong Wenyu seemed amused, standing still. “Why do you ask that?”
Nie Jun looked at him. “Are you mad because I took someone out of your room last night?”
“…” Kong Wenyu gave him a once-over and let out a soft laugh.
Nie Jun felt a bit nervous but noticed that Kong Wenyu now seemed even angrier than before.
“That’s right,” Kong Wenyu gave a cold laugh and turned to leave. “Next time, mind your own business.”
Nie Jun watched him walk away. At the stairway, Kong Wenyu didn’t pause even half a step before descending.
By the time they reached Moonlight Island, the evening was nearly over. The coastline glowed golden; black-and-white seabirds perched on crooked branches, gazing out at the water.
Di Xun eagerly led his group, stepping through the shallow waters along the shore to disembark onto the island. The others followed shortly after.
Kong Wenyu hesitated, reluctant to wade through the water to get to shore.
Seeing this, Nie Jun, taking advantage of the fact that others weren’t paying attention, scooped him up, strode a few quick steps through the shallows, and set him down on dry land.
Kong Wenyu didn’t spare him a glance. Once he was steady on his feet, he simply headed toward the crowd.
Di Xun was speaking to a few people: “See that grass up ahead, about thigh-high? It was planted last year. Took several rounds of maintenance before it finally took root and can now self-sustain. Be careful not to trample it all.”
It was late spring, the peak season for lush growth: waist-high wild grass, towering trees blocking the sky, and vines curling in every direction.
Yu Jiaduo frowned at the view and was startled by an animal darting through the underbrush.
“Grass,” he exclaimed, though not in fear—he sounded excited instead. “What was that thing? It was so fast!”
“Those are from when we released animals here a couple years ago,” Di Xun explained. “That must be a young one, born free-range. If you go deeper in, you’ll find some basic huts scattered around, and a few even built up in the trees. Dinner’s up to you—there’s barbecue equipment available. The huts are fully furnished; you don’t have to go back to the ship tonight, but make sure to lock the doors.”
Yu Jiaduo glanced at Kong Wenyu and quickly moved to stand beside him. “I’ll team up with Wenyu.”
“I’ll go with—” Ao Yongwang started to speak at the same time but got cut off. He then said, “What about the women? Maybe they should go back to the ship?”
Ao Qingqing was the first to respond. “I have bodyguards. I’ll be in my own group.”
Not far from her stood a woman in a light-colored suit, about the same age, her voice soft as she said, “I’m fine with anything.”
The rest began pairing off into groups of three or so. Only three or four people looked too drowsy to function and decided to return to the ship to sleep.
Di Xun counted heads. “Ladies, don’t wander too far. Stick with the main crowd and don’t get separated.”
Once teams were formed, they headed in different directions. Kong Wenyu chose the cleanest paths he could find and was the first to move toward the dense forest.
Nie Jun followed closely behind him, while Hai Ming quickened his pace to the front to clear the way.
As the sun sank, the island turned a hazy gray. A mist seemed to rise, cutting visibility even further.
The deeper they went, the more Yu Jiaduo regretted his decision. He ordered his bodyguards to form a protective circle around him, then pressed closer to Kong Wenyu. “What’s that howling sound?”
Kong Wenyu didn’t slow his pace. “Sounds a bit like wolves.”
From behind, Nie Jun corrected him, “Wild dogs.”
Yu Jiaduo let out a shaky sigh of relief. “Di Xun wouldn’t release anything too dangerous, right? Probably just some dogs, rabbits, that kind of thing.”
“He did say there were some larger animals,” Kong Wenyu reminded him. “Could be black bears.”
Yu Jiaduo exhaled heavily. “Then let’s hurry up and find a hut!”
They kept moving. About two hundred meters in, Nie Jun suddenly bent down and stomped hard on something.
The noise startled Kong Wenyu. Meeting his gaze, Nie Jun lifted up a wild rabbit. “We can roast this later.”
“…” Kong Wenyu stared at him for a full five seconds before turning away and continuing forward.
Yu Jiaduo took several deep breaths. Apparently, he felt safer next to Nie Jun than with his own bodyguards. He dropped back two steps to walk side by side with him.
“Man, you’ve got skills.” He eyed the rabbit in Nie Jun’s hand. “Does this taste good roasted?”
“It’s okay,” Nie Jun replied.
Yu Jiaduo had been walking for a while and was genuinely getting hungry.
“Will that be enough? It doesn’t look very big.”
“Not enough.”
Yu Jiaduo immediately instructed the bodyguards behind him: “You guys keep an eye out too—catch some rabbits for us to eat.”
“If we could catch a sheep, that would be better,” Nie Jun said. “We could do a whole roast lamb.”
Yu Jiaduo found that impossible. “Out here in the wilderness? You think there are sheep?”
“There are,” Nie Jun said as he sniffed the air and changed direction twice. “I can smell mutton.”
Yu Jiaduo looked at him with even greater astonishment now, sizing him up several times.
“Unreal. Have you done this kind of wilderness survival game before?”
For Nie Jun, it wasn’t called a “game.” It was actual survival training—life in the wild—and something he was long used to.
This small island was remote and surrounded by water. Di Xun had it specially cleared of dangerous predators; aside from the wild dogs, the other animals weren’t aggressive at all. The rabbits were so fat from easy feeding that they could barely run.
Nie Jun didn’t explain further. He just quickened his pace, closing the gap to Kong Wenyu.
By nine o’clock that night, they still hadn’t found any of the huts.
Kong Wenyu didn’t want to walk anymore. Nie Jun cleared a patch of ground and had him sit on a rock to rest.
Yu Jiaduo looked pale and was panting heavily. “I’m starving. I can’t go any farther.”
Kong Wenyu thought for a few seconds, then turned to Nie Jun. “If we light a fire now, will it attract wolves?”
Nie Jun froze briefly, realizing then that Kong Wenyu was likely hungry.
“I haven’t seen any signs of wolves so far,” Nie Jun said. “Even if there are, we have plenty of people. It won’t be a big problem.”
Between the two of them, they had brought over ten bodyguards—not to mention tranquilizer guns and other weapons.
Hai Ming returned from ahead and reported his findings: “There’s a small stream up ahead where we can wash up. Let’s make camp there. We’ll have one group collect firewood and another group go catch some wild chickens or rabbits. How’s that?”
Kong Wenyu nodded.
Hai Ming quickly assigned tasks, warning everyone not to stray too far, and told them to regroup by the stream in thirty minutes.
Yu Jiaduo went with his bodyguards to hunt wild chickens. Kong Wenyu, unwilling to move much, washed his face by the stream, then sat on a rock, lost in thought.
Nie Jun stayed nearby, while two other bodyguards kept watch in the darkness. Moonlight didn’t penetrate the dense canopy; everything was swallowed by shadow, unnervingly still.
Nie Jun still hadn’t decided how to bring up the matter from that afternoon when Kong Wenyu stood up from the rock and stretched.
Seeing him head toward the trees, Nie Jun hurried to follow.
Kong Wenyu walked a short distance, unconcerned by how close Nie Jun was behind him. Then, without warning, he stopped, planted his feet, and began unbuttoning his pants.
It took Nie Jun a second to realize: he was about to relieve himself.
Nie Jun turned his back politely and cautioned him, “Stay away from the wild grass—if it brushes your skin, it might make you itch.”
Soon, the sound of running water could be heard behind him. Once it stopped, Kong Wenyu said nothing, just headed back.
At the stream, he crouched to wash his hands, then sat back down on the same rock, staring into the pitch-black distance.
Nie Jun waited a moment, then—guessing the others would soon return—took the chance to ask, “Are you… still angry?”
Kong Wenyu didn’t move, didn’t even turn his head.
Staring at his back, Nie Jun said after a pause, “I’m sorry.”
He waited again. At last, Kong Wenyu turned, the night wind sweeping strands of hair across his cheek.
Even with that indifferent expression, he gave Nie Jun a brief, cold look.
Under the dark sky, remembering what had happened before, Nie Jun suddenly felt tense for no reason.
Kong Wenyu watched him for a moment, the corner of his mouth barely moving as he said, “Get lost.”
Nie Jun’s throat tightened, but he didn’t do as told—he didn’t “get lost.”
He knew very clearly that he had done something wrong. He opened his mouth and said, “Once the fire’s up, we’ll have food soon.”
Kong Wenyu didn’t respond, still facing away from him.
The night wind kept blowing, carrying a faint salty dampness from the sea. The temperature had already dropped a lot since dusk, and this was only the beginning—it would continue to fall until dawn.
Nie Jun took off his windbreaker, then placed the still-warm jacket over Kong Wenyu’s shoulders.
That small, self-sacrificing act finally earned him another glance from Kong Wenyu.
Meeting his gaze, Nie Jun carefully chose his words: “Miss Ao is your fiancée.”
Kong Wenyu looked at him.
Nie Jun hesitated, as though unsure how to proceed. “Have you ever thought about… changing your fiancée?”
After a pause, Kong Wenyu countered with a question: “Why?”
Nie Jun cautiously said, “I heard that many families wanted to arrange a marriage with you before, and after weighing everything, it was decided to be the Ao family. Did that ‘consideration’ include your personal… preferences?”
“What do you think?”
“To be honest,” Nie Jun answered, “I don’t know.”
“Do you want to know?”
“Yes.”
But Kong Wenyu didn’t answer him. Instead, he asked again, “Whether it does or doesn’t—what difference does it make?”
If it didn’t include personal feelings, meaning Kong Wenyu had no affection for her, Nie Jun might still have a chance to speak the truth.
If it did include them, meaning Kong Wenyu liked her, then Nie Jun would have to keep his mouth shut—and, under this dark, windy night, maybe go have a “talk” with that wolf instead.
But Kong Wenyu was never someone to give a straightforward answer.
He couldn’t be controlled, and he couldn’t be read.
“No reason,” Nie Jun said. “Just asking.”
There wasn’t even a hint of a smile on Kong Wenyu’s face.
If one looked straight at him right then, they would see that his eyes were cold, and the corners of his lips were turned down.
He was irritated.
Irritated by this situation—by the deliberate secrecy around him.
“Nie Jun.”
Kong Wenyu called his name, his tone low.
Nie Jun answered carefully, “Mm?”
“Get farther away,” Kong Wenyu said.
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