Chapter 96

The Serengeti plains were in the midst of the rainy season. Life was flourishing, and the scent of spring filled the air. Animals braved the treacherous journey across the Mara River, finally returning to the lush grasslands abundant with water and greenery. In a local government office, a woman dressed in a traditional long skirt and a vibrant veil was arguing with the clerk behind the counter. Winnie was on the verge of breaking down, her voice rising in frustration. "I was robbed! My wallet, my passport, my phone—and your damned bus! It was supposed to leave at two, and now it's already three-twenty!" She jabbed her finger at her watch, emphasizing her outrage. The clerk finally seemed to understand, shrugging nonchalantly and waving his hand. "Miss, here, time has only one hand—the sun. Relax. Don't let your watch control you." "What?!" Winnie was stunned. "You're saying time doesn't matter?" At that moment, a man in a suit descended the staircase slowly, accompanied by a staff member, speaking in a composed tone. "Construction during the rainy season is indeed challenging. We'll take local festivals and Safari schedules into account..." The staff member glanced at Van and smiled. "Van, you are not doing great. You should return to Las Vegas and get some rest." Van nodded, covering his mouth as he coughed softly, then picked up a mask and gently put it on. "Telephone! I need a telephone!" Winnie, at her wit's end, finally shouted desperately, her voice trembling. "Please, please!" She was on the brink of giving up, her hands clasped together in an anxious prayer, trying to figure out how to contact the embassy. Just then, Van paused mid-step. He lifted his head and gazed across the distance, his eyes landing on the woman. Her attire covered her entire body, the traditional long skirt and veil concealing her features yet unable to hide the elegance and allure of her curves. That familiar feeling made Van's heart race uncontrollably. He squinted slightly, a hint of doubt flashing through his mind. Was he so unwell that he was hallucinating? Suppressing the surge of emotion within him, his gaze remained fixed on the woman. The clerk at the counter, now visibly impatient, said, "Miss, relax. This isn't lost and found, nor is it the bus company." Winnie felt a wave of frustration, letting out a heavy sigh as she leaned on the counter, forcing herself to calm down. Her thoughts were a chaotic mess. She wanted to flee this baffling place, yet a part of her couldn't stop thinking about Van. One question lingered in her mind, a question she was desperate to ask: When you danced with Mia, did you also find yourself staring at her, unable to look away? She knew it would be hard to hold back this time. She needed to ask him face-to-face, to hear his denial with her own ears, to feel the sincerity in his reassurance. The people around Van hesitated, unsure of why he had suddenly stopped in his tracks. "Van..." one of his subordinates called softly. Van heard it but didn't respond immediately, his eyes still locked on the woman. Distractedly, he murmured, "Yes." The next moment, the woman at the counter lifted her face, her expression hesitant yet filled with disbelief as she looked in his direction. She had eyes that sparkled like starlight. No one could explain how, in a moment shared between a veiled woman and a man with his face partially obscured, they recognized each other so effortlessly. Without hesitation, the woman rushed into his arms, her movements swift and unrestrained, as though pouring out every ounce of emotion and boundless grievance she had been holding inside. The scene left everyone around them stunned. "Mr. Marlowe!" The man in black beside Van hurriedly called out, stepping toward the woman to stop her sudden action. No one truly understood how many dangers, big and small, Van had encountered abroad. However, the moment Van's eyes widened slightly, his pupils trembling before quickly regaining their composure, he lowered his gaze gently. His hand rested tenderly on the woman's back. His movements were so slow and cautious, as if he wasn't touching a real person but a fragile, ethereal dream. Any slight force might shatter this delicate, dreamlike emotion. "Mr. Marlowe..." The voice beneath the veil was muffled, trembling with suppressed sobs. "Is it really you?" Van didn't respond. Instead, he pulled her closer, holding her tightly in his arms. "You're only asking now? Don't you think it's a little late?" His voice was low and hoarse, laced with exhaustion. His fingers brushed against his mask, pulling it away gently. "You've got guts, Winnie." Winnie lowered her head as tears spilled uncontrollably down her face. The veil slipped from her ears, revealing her pale complexion. The surrounding staff were utterly stunned. Winnie, however, didn't care. Her face was a mix of tears and smiles, her trembling lips attempting to hold back laughter while her tear-filled eyes betrayed her overwhelming emotions. The contradiction was raw and beautiful. Van's gaze was intense, lingering on her for a few seconds before he leaned down, his lips meeting hers in a tender but resolute kiss. The moment was broken by the sound of harsh coughing in the distance. Staff members and local officials exchanged awkward glances, the scene plunging into an uncomfortable silence. The officials, unfazed, shrugged and turned to unlock the door to a nearby filing room.