She Said: A Passionate Kiss [Entertainment Industry] - Chapter 13
Gu Pingwan checked Weibo and saw that Qiang Huai had adapted her words.
Looking at those few words at the end, she felt a strange itch in her heart.
After a while, Gu Pingwan went back to debugging her program.
The next day, while Qiang Huai was shooting the commercial, the weather in the town was cold and gloomy. She had put on a thick down jacket, yet the chill still seeped through and made her legs ache from the cold.
Xiaoyu, shivering, brought a bowl of chicken soup to Qiang Huai’s room.
“Teacher Qiang, quick, drink this to warm up.”
Qiang Huai sat by the window, admiring the scenery. It had been a long time since she felt so at peace.
“Okay. Did you have some?” Qiang Huai asked.
Xiaoyu nodded. “The director’s team said we’ll gather at noon to go up the mountain. They went ahead to start setting up the filming location.”
Qiang Huai took a sip of the chicken soup. It wasn’t seasoned heavily, just a light herbal fragrance.
“Looks like it’s going to rain hard.”
“Tch, you’re right. It’s so foggy.” Xiaoyu looked out the window. The clouds loomed over the small town, with scattered, uneven rooftops barely visible through the mist.
“Later, tell the others not to come. You just come up the mountain with me.” Qiang Huai felt much warmer after drinking the soup.
Xiaoyu nodded and left the room with the empty bowl.
By noon, Qiang Huai and Xiaoyu met up with the director’s team and the set crew at the foot of the mountain. Because the mountain path was too rugged for vehicles, they had to hike up.
In the commercial, Qiang Huai played a mountain spirit. The scenes could have been done with CG, but they would look less authentic, so after discussion with her team, they decided to go with live-action shots.
After winding around over ten bends on the mountain path, the group finally reached the destination.
Qiang Huai stood at the mountain peak, spreading her arms and breathing in the fresh air. The scent of grass and rain was refreshing.
Xiaoyu took a photo of her from behind to post on Weibo later as part of her promotional content.
When they arrived at the filming site, Qiang Huai sat under a tent for hair and makeup while the director came over to explain the scene.
“Teacher Qiang, in a bit, you’ll jump from this tree to that one. Can you make your expression look more natural—like a spirit?”
The director was new but had directed some impressive projects before.
Qiang Huai nodded. “How high will it be?”
“Oh, not too high. Four or five meters at most,” the director said.
“Alright, let’s begin.” Qiang Huai glanced at her phone—no signal. She took off her down jacket, revealing the green costume she’d already changed into.
Filming went smoothly and lasted about three hours.
Suspended on wires, Qiang Huai flew gracefully through the forest, truly like a spirit frolicking in the world.
After wrapping up, the team prepared to descend the mountain.
But then a torrential downpour began, and they had to take shelter in the tent, waiting for the rain to stop before heading down.
Two hours passed, but the rain didn’t let up. People were starting to panic. They had brought nothing up with them and were now freezing in their wet clothes.
Thankfully, Qiang Huai had told Xiaoyu to dress warmly in advance. Otherwise, she might’ve gotten hypothermia.
Qiang Huai pulled out her phone. With no signal, she could only read the novel that had been cached earlier in her “Jinjiang Literature City” app.
“Teacher Qiang, are we stuck here overnight?” Xiaoyu huddled on a chair, arms wrapped tightly around herself.
“Looks like it,” Qiang Huai said, eyes still on the novel.
Suddenly, they heard shouting in the distance.
“Run! Run!” a sharp male voice yelled. Xiaoyu ran outside to see what was going on.
All the crew members were scrambling, carrying their gear and running around in panic.
The director rushed to Qiang Huai. “Teacher Qiang, quick! There’s been a landslide up ahead—it’s triggering a mudslide coming this way!”
Qiang Huai and Xiaoyu exchanged a look and dashed out while hurriedly putting on raincoats.
The mountain path was treacherous, and no one knew the way well. People scattered like headless chickens.
Mud and water soon swallowed the campsite. Massive rocks were rolling down with the flow.
Qiang Huai spotted a small hill in the distance.
“Let’s go! Head there—there’s a natural barrier. The mudflow will get diverted into the gully.”
She shouted loudly, and everyone followed her. The director was visibly panicked—it was his first time facing something like this.
The rain poured down like a waterfall, making it nearly impossible to keep one’s eyes open.
They were still 400 meters from the hill. Many were exhausted.
Leading the group, Qiang Huai shouted,
“Hang in there, everyone! First one up the hill gets a red envelope from me!”
Hearing that—and thinking of both the danger behind and the red envelope ahead—everyone pushed through with renewed strength.
Just as the last person scrambled onto the hill, the mudflow came roaring by, sweeping away everything in its path.
Qiang Huai was panting, wiping the rain from her eyes. Xiaoyu had collapsed on the ground, letting the rain pour over her.
“Teacher Qiang, cough cough… don’t forget my red envelope.” Xiaoyu had actually been the first one to reach the hill. No one knew she had it in her.
The director approached with a tree branch for support.
“Teacher Qiang, are you alright?”
“I’m fine. Please check if anyone’s injured,” Qiang Huai replied. Her shoes were caked in mud. She had fallen earlier, and her soaked down jacket was now unbearably heavy.
The director went to do a headcount. Thankfully, everyone was safe.
But now, another problem loomed—they were in a desolate area with no signal and no signs of farmland or nearby villagers.
“Everyone, check if you can get any signal!” the director shouted, fiddling with his own phone and instructing others to try reaching the outside world.
Some phones had water damage and were unusable; the ones that worked had no signal.
Suddenly, Qiang Huai remembered something. She pulled out her phone and opened the app developed by Gu Pingwan’s company. Her phone was waterproof, though the screen was difficult to navigate due to the rain.
She carefully opened the unnamed app and swiped through, holding onto a sliver of hope.
Miraculously, the app loaded their current location and coordinates. Qiang Huai quickly pressed the emergency button.
A red glow flashed across the screen—it didn’t make any sound.
The screen displayed, “Connecting…”
Holding her breath, Qiang Huai watched. Would it work without a signal?
After ten or so seconds, the screen lit up with:
“Connection successful.”
“Reporting emergency.”
At that moment, Gu Pingwan was still working late at the company when a coworker called her over.
“Chief Engineer Gu, look—someone’s using the app to report an emergency!”
She looked closely. The account name displayed: “HolleQiang.” She immediately pulled up the account’s coordinates.
“Has it been relayed to the cyber police?”
“Yes. The system detected wild environmental noise and flagged it as a distress situation. The police have requested satellite positioning and communication,” the coworker confirmed.
Gu Pingwan’s heart tightened.
“Okay.”
She had been about to leave, but now she returned to her desk.
Opening the backend interface, she typed in the message box:
“Qiang Huai, this is Gu Pingwan. Don’t panic. The system has already called for help. They’ll find you soon.”
Qiang Huai’s eyes lit up when she received the message, but she didn’t know how to reply.
Gu Pingwan suddenly realized—the app didn’t yet support replies. They had intentionally left out the feature in case criminals used the victims’ phones to communicate.
“Don’t be scared.”
“If you’re safe, please tap the screen three times.”
Since user privacy data was forwarded to the police, they couldn’t access the mic audio.
Qiang Huai followed the instruction and tapped three times.
Gu Pingwan quickly received the touch input and sent another message:
“You can use the microphone to speak with the police directly.”
Qiang Huai tried shouting into it, but heard no response.
She tapped the screen again—Gu Pingwan understood.
“Is the microphone broken?”
Another tap—yes. The phone had hit the ground earlier, likely breaking the mic.
“Don’t be afraid, Qiang Huai. The rescue team is on their way.”
The police had already been contacted, and the rescue team was heading toward the town.
They’d already been trapped for seven hours. Everyone was exhausted, but thankfully, the rain had stopped.
Across the river, flashlights flickered and voices called out, “Anyone there?”
Qiang Huai held up her phone, flashing an SOS signal. Moments later, a helicopter rumbled overhead, lighting up the night sky.
The police, hearing the noise from the app, dispatched a large rescue team.
The mudslide had destroyed the mountain road, so rescuers had to assess the situation from across the river.
“We’re here!” Qiang Huai shouted. She had already told everyone she reported the emergency, and now they looked at her with a strange sense of trust.
Xiaoyu got up and waved her flashlight, “We’re here!”
The helicopter hovered above. The wind from the blades made people tremble. A female officer descended via rope ladder, carrying a first-aid kit and compressed biscuits.
Meanwhile, bulldozers on the other side began clearing the path through the mud.
Everyone clutched their emergency rations, waiting for the road to be cleared.
Qiang Huai let out a long breath. Looking down at the app on her phone, she hugged it tightly.
Thank goodness for you.
Once the ground rescue reached them, hope finally returned.
After they were brought down the mountain, Qiang Huai learned that the lower parts of the mountain had also been hit by mudslides. Reporters were broadcasting live from the disaster site.
As Qiang Huai passed by, she was randomly pulled aside for an interview.
“And now, let’s hear from this local resident. Hello, can you tell us what happened during the mudslide?” The reporter clearly hadn’t recognized her.
Qiang Huai sniffled. Her hair stuck to her face, and dried mud covered her body. She looked like a bedraggled beauty.
The reporter had obviously picked her out because she stood out in the crowd.
“When the mudslide hit, we were up on the mountain…”
The interview was being livestreamed, and the comment section was full of reactions:
“LOL, kindhearted villager Qiang Huai!”
“It’s so tragic, but why do I want to laugh?”
“Who gets it? Even covered in mud, Qiang Huai is still beautiful!”
Gu Pingwan was also watching the livestream. She had sent Qiang Huai several messages, but there had been no response. Now that she saw Qiang Huai was safe, she finally felt at ease.