Jing Feng Novels

After the bar where he performed closed down, Liang Yuanxing packed his ukulele and camera, hopped on his sleek three-case ADV motorcycle, and set his GPS for Dunhuang—3,000 kilometers away. He was heading to the legendary Great Northwest! Yet before he even crossed the provincial border, he crashed and ended up in the hospital, helmet visor still down. And so, he became Dr. Duan Qingshen’s final patient. "By the way," Liang Yuanxing squinted at him through the windblown sand, "when you quit your job—it wasn’t because I lured you away, was it?" Duan Qingshen gave him a quiet look and shook his head. "I didn’t quit because of you, but ending up here? Yeah, you definitely lured me." **#OneWillingToLureTheOtherWillingToFollow#** ·Liang Yuanxing is the bottom.

Xiao Jingwen took his hands off the steering wheel; the car had already stalled, parked in the underground garage. Seated beside him was his ex-boyfriend, reunited after five years apart. He struggled for a long time but couldn’t muster a single word to ask him to stay. All he managed was a stumbling remark: “Tomorrow…tomorrow’s rain will be heavy.” “It’s alright, President Xiao.” Lin Congzhi unbuckled his seatbelt, tilting his head with a polite, gentle smile. “I’m leaving tonight.”

Xu Nanheng was still a thousand kilometers away from Lhasa. Growing increasingly agitated behind the wheel, he stepped out for a cigarette only to find no lighter in his pocket. Just as frustration drove him to kick the tire, a man struck a flint, a flame flickered to life, and leaned in to light the tip of his cigarette. Under the evening stars, it was the only face Xu Nanheng had found agreeable in months. "Going to Lhasa?" Fang Shiyou asked. "Mind giving me a lift? My car broke down here—name your price." Xu Nanheng squinted. "Five hundred." Fang Shiyou: "Quite the philanthropist, aren’t you?" ...Damn, too cheap. · Xu Nanheng spent a year teaching in Tibet. The young master from Beijing had never seen skies so breathtaking. He adored dusk most—the moment just before dark, when twilight stars graced the lakeside hues of southern Tibet’s plateau. Standing tall and striking, textbook in hand, Teacher Xu would gaze up at the stars, serene as the breeze, the Milky Way shimmering faintly. Fang Shiyou lingered nearby, eyes blazing as they fixed on him. To Fang Shiyou, this was the epitome of unrivaled grace. Truthfully, Teacher Xu, while stargazing, also wanted to evoke poetic verse—only to remember he was a math teacher with literary skills thinner than paper. Sighing, he muttered, "Ow, my neck." Fang Shiyou: .