The Stand-In, Ah Zhao (GL) - Chapter 6

Shen Zhao agreed without a moment’s doubt or hesitation. “Sure! Are you on this flight too?” She pointed to the flight information on the large screen.

Song Ling studied her face and nodded. “Yes.”

“Moscow often gets blizzards this time of year. I doubt tonight’s flights will take off.” Song Ling glanced up at the screen as she spoke, sounding unconcerned.

Shen Zhao blinked. “Do you think we’ll have to spend the night at the airport?”

“The nearby hotels are probably all full by now. Let’s wait. If we’re lucky, the blizzard might stop and flights could resume sooner than expected.”

For the moment, there seemed to be nothing else they could do but wait.

Shen Zhao nodded. “I guess so.”

Song Ling took one of her suitcases. “There’s a VIP lounge over there. I’m a member of this airline, so we can go in and rest.”

Shen Zhao paused. Seeing Song Ling pull her suitcase along for her, she belatedly said, “Oh, okay. Thank you.”

The airport was packed. Song Ling pulled two suitcases, while Shen Zhao followed with another one, making their way through the crowd.

The lounge was spacious and not very busy. It had massage chairs for resting and food laid out for guests.

After nearly eight or nine hours of travel and disruption, Shen Zhao was exhausted. The lounge was heated, and as its warmth enveloped her, she soon began to feel warm all over.

With the time difference, she would normally have been asleep by now. She sank into a sofa chair and closed her eyes.

Song Ling sat beside her and turned her head slightly to study her.

Shen Zhao’s eyes were shut tight. Her long lashes rested against her cheeks, casting faint shadows beneath them.

Her face wasn’t the sort that stunned people at first glance. Her features were delicate and fresh, and when she smiled, small dimples appeared at the corners of her mouth. She was like a warm little sun, impossible to look away from.

And those eyes were achingly familiar.

Light danced in them, innocent and lively.

Perhaps Song Ling’s gaze was too intent. Sensing something unusual, Shen Zhao opened her eyes a sliver and met the look directed at her.

Song Ling was studying her without the slightest attempt to hide it.

Shen Zhao froze, her sleepiness clearing a little.

That look made her uneasy.

She sat up straight. “Wh-what is it?”

Song Ling looked away. “Nothing.” She stood, picked up her coat from the back of the chair, and added, “Get some sleep. I’m going out for some air.” Then she strode out of the lounge.

Shen Zhao watched her leave, a strange, complicated feeling spreading through her.

She had felt it from the first moment she saw this woman, though she couldn’t say exactly what was wrong.

Song Ling didn’t seem to smile much, yet everything she said and did was polite and considerate.

She looked difficult to get along with, but after a few words, she seemed surprisingly easy to talk to.

Shen Zhao stopped thinking about it. She took a couple of deep breaths and closed her eyes, growing drowsy in the warmth.

At five in the morning, an announcement suddenly sounded through the airport. The blizzard had stopped, and flights were gradually resuming.

The flight to Murmansk was scheduled for 7:05 a.m. and would take two and a half hours.

They gathered their luggage. Because this was a different airline, they had to check their bags in again.

After passing through security and boarding, Shen Zhao discovered that her seat was right next to Song Ling’s.

At the sight of Song Ling’s red dress, she finally remembered that Song Ling had been sitting beside her on the previous flight too.

“What a coincidence,” Shen Zhao said with a smile.

Song Ling’s lips moved in the hint of a smile, but her expression remained淡淡, and she said nothing.

This flight was short, just over two hours. They arrived in Murmansk a little after ten in the morning.

Only when she left the airport did Shen Zhao see a sky that truly belonged to the Arctic.

Snow stretched in every direction, yet the weather was unexpectedly good.

Warm golden sunlight fell across the white world, giving it a sacred beauty.

“It’s so beautiful,” Shen Zhao marveled, her breath emerging in a white cloud that drifted into the air.

It snowed in Jiangcheng in winter too, but it felt nothing like this.

Despite the cold, Shen Zhao was inexplicably excited.

Song Ling lowered her eyes to the smile on Shen Zhao’s face, and the corners of her own mouth lifted without her realizing it. “We seem to have come at the right time. There should be an especially good display of the Northern Lights tonight.”

Shen Zhao was delighted. Although Si’er hadn’t been able to come with her, her excitement had already made up for that disappointment.

Now that she was here, she intended to enjoy this wonderful prize that had fallen into her lap.

“I think so!” Shen Zhao said with a smile. “I researched it. The better the weather that day, the more beautiful the Northern Lights.”

Dragging her large suitcase, Shen Zhao suddenly asked, “Oh, which hotel did you book?”

“One in Teriberka.”

Shen Zhao lit up. “What a coincidence! I’m starting to wonder if we won the same grand prize, hahaha.”

Hearing that Song Ling’s itinerary matched hers exactly, Shen Zhao didn’t suspect a thing.

Traveling alone had left her more anxious than anything. Now that someone she knew was going the same way, she immediately felt as though she had a companion.

Even if she had only met this acquaintance twice before.

According to her travel plan, Shen Zhao was supposed to take a bus to Teriberka. But Song Ling had booked a private car in advance, so Shen Zhao shamelessly joined her, telling herself they were traveling together anyway.

Shen Zhao watched the scenery all along the drive. This was the far north of the Earth, the end of the world. Snow stretched everywhere, and clouds like thick marshmallows covered the sky.

Even the air seemed new. She felt as delighted as if she were inside an icy castle from a fairy tale.

The sunlight wasn’t harsh. A soft glow spread along the horizon, across an endless expanse. Beyond the end of the world lay more of the unknown.

The long road was empty. It seemed as though their car might drive all the way to the horizon.

Shen Zhao took out her phone and snapped photo after photo.

It was as if she wanted to fit every beautiful sight into it.

She sent Si’er two pictures: one of the sunrise and one of a snow-covered village.

A reply soon came: [It’s beautiful. Have fun on your own, and stay safe.]

Shen Zhao smiled faintly and replied: [OKOK]

[I miss you [heart]]

Sitting opposite Shen Zhao, Song Ling happened to lower her eyes toward the phone. She caught sight of the conversation at once.

At the top was the contact name [Si’er].

Song Ling stared for a moment. Her expression did not change; she merely turned her gaze toward the scenery outside.

After sending the messages, Shen Zhao turned off her screen and looked up at Song Ling across from her.

“Aren’t you going to take any pictures?”

Song Ling looked into her eyes. “Our eyes are the most beautiful cameras in the world,” she said softly.

Shen Zhao thought about it, then smiled. “That’s true.”

Sunlight came from the east and fell across the side of Song Ling’s face. Its brightness shifted as the car bumped along, illuminating her face one moment and leaving it in shadow the next.

It made her expression difficult for Shen Zhao to read.

“Did you book this trip on your own? Not many young women travel by themselves.” Song Ling looked into her eyes as she asked.

Shen Zhao sighed softly. “I was supposed to come with my girlfriend, but something came up for her at the last minute. So I had to come alone.”

Song Ling lowered her gaze, avoiding Shen Zhao’s eyes. “Have you been together long?” she asked with casual indifference.

Shen Zhao nodded. “A year.”

The car grew quiet. Song Ling gave no answer. After a moment, she said, “A year… that’s all right.”

“It isn’t very long,” she added, sounding distracted.

Leaning back in her seat, Shen Zhao blinked twice at Song Ling’s words but did not respond.

Instead, she changed the subject. “What about you? Are you traveling alone too?”

“Yes. I’ve been working for a long time, so I decided to take a holiday.”

Shen Zhao looked at the woman before her. Song Ling was clearly quite a few years older, and there was a settled maturity about her.

She was beautiful in a vivid, mature way.

Beside her, Shen Zhao felt as childish as a little kid.

When you were young, you couldn’t help admiring people like that: confident and mature, with a beauty shaped by years of experience. You found yourself wondering when you might become like them.

At the hotel, Shen Zhao took out the check-in details the app company had provided.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. You did not check in within the specified time, and you did not contact us in advance. This is a busy tourist period, so we did not hold your room. We will refund the remaining balance.” The receptionist didn’t speak English. She delivered all of this in distinctly accented Russian, and it took Shen Zhao a long time with her translation app to understand her.

Anxious, Shen Zhao used the app to reply. “My flight was delayed. That’s why I arrived late. Can I pay the full price for the room in advance?”

The receptionist shook her head. “I’m sorry. We have no rooms left.”

Perhaps because Shen Zhao looked Asian and so young, the receptionist kindly explained further. “I’m very sorry, ma’am. It’s a peak holiday period. I hope you understand. You could try another hotel nearby.”

Teriberka wasn’t a very developed town, and this was already its largest hotel. If it had no rooms during China’s National Day holiday, the other places were even less likely to have any.

On top of that, Shen Zhao didn’t speak the language, few Russians spoke English, and she knew neither the place nor anyone in it. She could have cried.

“How did it go? Are you checked in?” a cool voice asked beside her.

Shen Zhao turned to see Song Ling walking toward her. In her hand was a room key card bearing three glittering gold letters: VIP.

It must be nice to have money, Shen Zhao thought.

“They didn’t keep my room,” she said dejectedly, on the verge of tears.

Song Ling lowered her eyes to Shen Zhao’s beautiful eyes and paused. Her voice was low and husky when she asked, “Would you like to stay with me?”

The itinerary and flights had indeed been arranged, but the hotel problem had not been part of her plans.

Shen Zhao wanted to cry, though her words already betrayed that she was giving in. “Wouldn’t that be inappropriate?”

Song Ling laughed softly above her head, a teasing curve to her lips. “Would you rather sleep on the street?”

At more than ten degrees below zero, she probably wouldn’t end up sleeping on the street.

She would freeze to death in the snow.