Chapter 328: Desert Winds and Filming Adventures

Yadan Geomorphology, Mars Base.

The windblown sand wasn’t too fierce, but the dry air made breathing slightly uncomfortable.

The convoy split up and parked in sequence, blending into this otherworldly scene.

It was past noon, and after a busy morning, everyone was starving.

The film crew’s staff quickly set up two tents and used their self-heating meals to prepare a spread of food.

There were also cans, ham, bread, and more—giving off a real ‘military campaign’ vibe.

“It’s rough out here, so let’s make do,” said the dark-skinned guide Yang Lei.

The staff ate fast—done in three or five minutes—then scattered to get back to work.

Director Paul Bao Junsen and cinematographer Leslie Kuang Chunlei were all in, wearing huge sun hats as they directed the setup.

Shooting tracks, smoke machines, Steadicam.

The diesel generator roared to life…

Xie Bingran was settled in the makeup tent, getting fussed over by the makeup artist sister, with Cheng Hong bringing her some edible snacks and keeping her company.

Throughout the shoot, Bing Ge kept that ‘cool and distant’ look, barely saying a word to outsiders.

…

Xu Chen sat with He Da Chang and Liu Wenqin, munching on luncheon meat and slurping potato congee from self-heating packs—this was a rare experience.

“Self-heating pots” like these only started trending in the next ten or twenty years, even becoming internet-famous snacks.

But their roots trace back to military self-heating meals from the 1970s.

During downtime at the last shoot location, Xu Chen learned that Yang Lei, the dark-skinned guide, had been a border guard in his early days.

No wonder he could lead convoys in and out of this wild wilderness.

…

The entire stretch of ‘Mars Base’ was barren, all weathered and broken dry hills.

If someone got stranded here without rescue or supplies, survival would be impossible.

In ancient times, this would be a total no-man’s-land—even exile spots were better than this.

Besides the Jeep filming convoy, two other groups were nearby, one with Beijing plates and the other with Inner Mongolia plates.

A couple of guys from those crews stopped by, exchanged greetings, and shared a smoke with guide Yang Lei.

Now they were already back in their vehicles, heading deeper into the desert.

…

After the meal.

Shooting resumed, racing against the clock.

Xu Chen, He Da Chang, and Liu Wenqin settled back in front of the monitors inside the tent.

Huge yellow earth mounds glowed with a reddish-brown hue against the deep blue sky.

That sea-blue Wrangler stood out sharply in the view.

Xie Bingran opened the door, swung her long legs in, and slid into the driver’s seat…

Xu Chen felt a bit tired and half-leaned back in the director’s chair.

He couldn’t help but say:

“Working with Vincent and Paul is always so effortless.

You’re all so professional that we can just kick back and relax.”

It was a bit of flattery, and Liu Wenqin smiled, clearly pleased.

Xu Chen saying that in front of client He Da Chang meant a lot, and Liu Wenqin appreciated it.

Xu Chen turned his head and glanced at the nearby tent.

Sun Aimi sat on an apple box, one hand on the walkie-talkie and the other holding script materials, coordinating resources for the director’s team.

Coach Cheng Hong lounged next to her, hugging Aimi’s soft body and dozing off.

She clearly loved Sun Aimi’s baby-faced cheeks and figure—since that morning, she’d stuck to her like glue.

Who’d have thought the usually sharp and tough Coach Cheng would get won over by Aimi so easily.

Next time I need a favor from Coach Cheng, I might just bring Aimi along…

Xu Chen stretched and stepped out of the tent.

A massive, dull yellow-red earth mound loomed ahead, eroded by ancient rivers and modern winds into a twisted, wild shape.

The Wrangler, painted in elegant sea blue, sat at an angle below the mound, like a stunning beast that had crashed into this world.

Just like Bing right now.

In the swirling sand, Bing Ge adjusted her desert-colored scarf to cover her mouth and nose.

Beneath her wind-tossed hair, those cold, striking eyes stared out…

Xu Chen recalled a old movie he watched with his father as a kid, set in a desolate place called ‘Shuangqi Town’.

Horses whinnied, people shouted.

Endless sands stretched for miles. Masked swordsmen, innocent victims.

In a fight to the death, the young outlaw’s blade cut through the northern winds and blood.

A killing strike.

Xu Chen thought of Bing on the track.

As the dark red track merged with the sandy desert in his mind, the images overlapped.

She was like a blade herself—righteous and unyielding.

…

…

Once the Yadan scenes wrapped, the shoot was mostly done.

They just needed to move to outside Jade Gate Pass for some evening and bonfire shots in the Gobi and along the Shule River, and this job would be complete.

Staff started loading equipment into the vehicles with clangs and bangs.

Guide Yang Lei entered the tent, his dark face showing a hint of unease.

Director Paul Bao Junsen noticed and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Yang Lei replied, “Word from the west—a sandstorm might be heading our way.”

He Da Chang and Liu Wenqin heard it and drew in a sharp breath, hurrying over.

Cinematographer Leslie Kuang Chunlei stepped into the tent with a worried look and let out an “Ah.”

Paul Bao Junsen kept a straight face, but inside, he was the most anxious.

“What’s the chance we’ll hit it?” the director asked.

Yang Lei thought for a moment: “We’re okay here.

But getting to Jade Gate Pass might be tricky…”

Paul Bao Junsen frowned, his worry showing clearly.

Xie Bingran’s schedule was only for today—all her scenes had to wrap up.

Plus, if they delayed to tomorrow, crew and equipment costs would double…

Yang Lei glanced at the western sky and said:

“No need to worry too much. Storms this season come fast and go fast.

Let’s hurry to Jade Gate Pass. If we hit the sandstorm, we’ll just wait it out…”

Paul Bao Junsen checked the shooting schedule and nodded:

“We gained some time this morning and noon.

If the storm passes in half an hour, it won’t derail us much…”

He looked at He Da Chang and Xu Chen:

“If it messes with the schedule, we’ll prioritize the spokesman’s footage today.

We can handle special effects and scene shots tomorrow on our own.”

He Da Chang was concerned about budget overruns, but it was unavoidable, so he said:

“Guess that’s all we can do—safety first.”

As the ‘supervisor,’ Xu Chen had no issues and reassured them:

“Don’t panic.

We’ve got plenty of footage already. Even if we cut a few scenes, we can still put together a solid video.

Plus, we’ll edit in shots from spokesman Wang Shi, so material won’t be short.

Losing a couple of big shots might not be perfect, but it’ll work…”

Liu Wenqin nodded:

“Exactly.”

That eased He Da Chang and Paul Bao Junsen’s minds a bit.

Yang Lei said, “Let’s move out quick—no more delays.”

With that, he turned and left the tent.

…

Since they had to drive, Xu Chen handed the wheel to the professional driver.

The driver was with Yang Lei’s team—a thirty-something burly guy who also handled equipment.

Xu Chen and Xie Bingran climbed into the back of the Grand Cherokee.

Coach Cheng Hong took the passenger seat, yawning and looking tired.

Or maybe she was disappointed not to be hugging Sun Aimi’s soft body.

Sun Aimi was being sweet and squeezed into the Prado behind with the director’s assistant.

The convoy hit the national road, driving safely but as fast as possible toward Jade Gate Pass.

“Feeling sleepy? You can nap if you want,” Xu Chen said softly to Xie Bingran.

She shook her head, her big eyes fixed on him.

Xu Chen quietly reached out and took her hand.

He gently squeezed her soft, slender fingers.

…

…

Xu Chen dozed off a little.

When he woke, he was leaning on Xie Bingran’s shoulder.

He straightened up and stretched his neck; Bing Ge was smiling at him.

Coach Cheng Hong pulled out two nut bars from her bag and passed them back.

“Thanks, Coach Cheng!” Xu Chen said with a grin.

They looked just like the ones Bing Ge had shared earlier.

Instead of splitting one each, he followed Bing Ge’s earlier move—gripped a bar and snapped it in two.

He tore the wrapper and offered half to Xie Bingran with a smile.

She reached out, popped it in her mouth, and crunched away.

…

Outside Jade Gate Pass.

They were a bit away from the pass but could see the square ruins.

Once off the vehicles, the director quickly organized the setup and started with Xie Bingran’s scenes.

Guide Yang Lei peered through binoculars toward the northwest and told the director:

“Skip the tents—grab these shots while the light’s still good!”

Hearing that, they knew the sandstorm was coming for sure.

The director felt urgent but played it cool.

Though his awkward Cantonese came out faster, betraying his nerves…

Xu Chen, He Da Chang, and Liu Wenqin sensed the emergency and skipped setting up monitors or tents, just followed the cinematographer to watch the shots.

Filming went on smoothly.

In the rush, a few minor mistakes happened, but nothing serious.

Cinematographer Leslie Kuang Chunlei hoisted the Steadicam himself—his slim build moved with effortless grace.

Xie Bingran followed the director’s instructions, becoming a tool in the lens.

With nearly a day’s shooting under her belt, Bing Ge handled it like a pro, full of star power and veteran ease.

…

Twenty minutes later.

The wind picked up, tousling Xu Chen’s hair.

The sky darkened a shade, light fading fast.

Grains of sand stung his face in the gusts.

Looking northwest, the thick sandstorm was now visible.

Guide Yang Lei checked through the binoculars and made a couple of calls.

Director Paul Bao Junsen approached: “How’s it looking?”

Yang Lei: “Not a big issue—just a small one.

Everyone get in the cars, seal the doors and windows, and don’t leave anything outside.

It’ll probably pass in twenty minutes to half an hour.”

Paul Bao Junsen nodded.

He glanced at his watch: “I’ll squeeze in a few more shots quick.”

Then he smiled: “Once the storm hits, we can use it as a background—have stuntman Zhou Yong drive and get some epic shots.”

Yang Lei chuckled: “Watch your Steadicam.”

Paul Bao Junsen turned to Leslie Kuang Chunlei: “Leslie’s got it—he cherishes that gear more than we do.”

…

As the yellow sands closed in.

Bing Ge’s scenes finished just in time, and both the director and cinematographer breathed easier.

Paul Bao Junsen said to Xie Bingran:

“Bing Ge, head back to the car and rest. We’ll wait out the storm…”

The assistant director led her away.

Paul Bao Junsen chatted briefly with Yang Lei, who then announced loudly:

“Everyone into the vehicles! Seal the doors and windows.

The sandstorm will pass soon—stay calm…

If anything happens in the cars, use the walkie-talkie—no one leaves!”

Staff grabbed their essential gear and piled into the vehicles.

Director Paul Bao Junsen, cinematographer Leslie Kuang Chunlei, guide Yang Lei, and stuntman Zhou Yong drove the Wrangler toward the open wasteland.

They wanted to capture a few more ‘big shots’ with the sandstorm as the backdrop.

…

The assistant director escorted Xie Bingran to the car, where Xu Chen was waiting and held the door open.

With the sands approaching, they quickly jumped into the back seat.

They waited a moment, thinking Cheng Hong and Sun Aimi would join, but through the rearview mirror, they saw the two had gotten into the Prado behind.

Xu Chen smiled: “Guess it’s just us.”

He sat up, checked that all doors and windows were shut tight, and pulled the handbrake.

Outside, the faint roar of an engine echoed—that was stuntman Zhou Yong racing the Wrangler through the sands.

…

…

Ten minutes later, the sandstorm hit…

The whole vehicle shook, the windows a blur of yellow, obscuring the other cars behind.

The walkie-talkie crackled twice.

“Don’t panic, everyone—just stay put in your vehicles…”

“The wind’s strong, so the car might rock, but it won’t flip a ton-plus vehicle—nothing to worry about…”

“We’re on the edge now; visibility will drop more, but stay calm—it’s all safe!”

Guide Yang Lei kept reassuring everyone through the walkie-talkie.

…

The car jolted nonstop.

Sand pelted the doors with a rapid ‘popping’ noise.

Outside, everything was a hazy yellow, growing darker by the second.

It felt like the end of the world.

…

Xu Chen held Xie Bingran’s hand and said with a smile:

“This is quite the adventure…”

She said nothing, just blinked her wide eyes.

Their gazes met, and without thinking, their faces drew close.

Noses touched, lips brushed lightly…

The howling winds outside couldn’t drown their breaths.

In her eyes, there was pure affection.

Xie Bingran kissed him deeply and pulled him tight.

…

…

Outside, chaos reigned like doomsday; inside, hearts pounded with heat.

They embraced as if time froze, or worlds turned.

Xu Chen looked at her with tender care, gently stroking her cheek.

She blinked her big eyes, a hint of sadness and grievance showing.

“What’s wrong?” Xu Chen whispered.

She nestled into his arms and kissed his face.

Then she leaned to his ear and softly said:

“I love you.”

…

…