The Equator’s Hot Kiss for the North Pole

Deep in the Amazon Rainforest, the relentless rainy season ground the movie production to a halt.

Restless with pent-up energy, Song Yu made her way to the riverbank. She stared openly at the handsome man bathing in the water below.

Arching an eyebrow, she blew a playful whistle—the cheeky tune mimicking the local tribe’s courtship signal.

The man narrowed his eyes. His large hand clamped around her ankle and yanked her into the river.

Far from the trappings of civilization, only the most primal desires remained.

When filming wrapped, Song Yu brushed off her reckless fling with the local man and returned to the city.

A year later, she joined the Scientific Expedition Team on a trip to the Arctic.

The team leader was Pei Zhi, an anthropology professor who specialized in studying foreign cultures by immersing himself among their people. Aloof and indifferent by nature, he took a particular dislike to Song Yu.

Exhausted after disembarking onto the glacier, Song Yu slumped to the ground, too spent to continue.

“Any trash generated during the landing must not be left on the glacier,” Pei Zhi said, his face expressionless.

Song Yu caught the barb in his words and let out a light laugh. “So what kind of trash am I? Why don’t you sort me out, Captain Pei?”

Pei Zhi’s eyes turned pitch-black as memories flooded back of the unruly woman deep in the rainforest—looking every bit as wild now as she had then. His voice was ice-cold: “The kind that starts something and then abandons it.”

A brutal blizzard caught the team unprepared. Pei Zhi returned bone-tired and battered.

Song Yu gently stroked the cut along his brow bone. “Does it hurt?”

Her fingertips were warm and soft, sending an itchy, tingling sensation through him. Pei Zhi’s breath caught, the hue of his pupils deepening.

When polar night descended, day and night became indistinguishable.

In the cramped cabin of the Arctic Research Ship, the air grew thick and humid.

That was when Song Yu learned what true pain felt like—teetering between life and oblivion.

Pei Zhi, for his part, couldn’t help thinking that any man with a shred of pride wouldn’t fall for the same woman twice.

Seductive beauty of a director × coldly desirous scholarly anthropologist