Li Zan's dorm wasn't large. It housed four people, with two bunk beds. The army-green quilts were folded into standard tofu blocks. There were also two desks with cabinets and two chairs. On the windowsill were enamel mugs and toiletries. The rest of the place was exceptionally neat and spotless. No laundry was visible; it was probably put away in the cabinets.

Song Ran had been to a men's dormitory during her university days; it was a mess inside and full of smells. Now she could see that soldiers were truly different. Discipline permeated every aspect of their lives.

Besides the faint smell of sweat, there was a hint of soap fragrance in the room.

A patch of the setting sun slanted in through the window, spreading softly across the floor.

Song Ran stood at one end of the sunlight, her expression awkward. Her hair was like a bird's nest and was still dripping.

Li Zan opened a drawer. She took the opportunity to glance inside. His spare military uniforms were folded neatly, without a single crease. On top of them lay a harmonica, a fountain pen, and a very small notebook.

He took out a towel and gave it to her. "Here, dry yourself."

Song Ran hesitated for a moment.

Li Zan smiled. "It's new. Not dirty."

"That's not it." She quickly waved her hands, saying a bit reservedly, "I'm afraid I'll get your towel dirty. Just lending me a comb is fine. If I comb it, it'll dry quickly."

He didn't insist. He draped the towel over the back of the chair, walked to the windowsill, and took out a small, white plastic comb from the enamel mug that held his toothbrush and toothpaste, handing it to her.

The spot where Song Ran was standing was already dotted with round water stains. She took the comb and walked to the doorway. With her back to him, she tilted her head out the door and carefully, yet awkwardly, combed her hair. A dense shower of water droplets hit the ground.

She wrung the water out of her hair, then combed it once or twice more, trying to drain as much water as possible. The weather in Galuo City was hot and dry, so her hair would be dry in no time.

He glanced at her, then turned sideways, folded the towel on the back of the chair, and put it back in the drawer.

She finished combing, gathered her hair behind her shoulders, secretly wiped the water off the comb with her sleeve, and turned to return it to him. "Thank you."

"It's nothing." He took it, glanced at the half-dry comb, and put it back in the enamel mug. He took a step back to the chair and turned his eyes to look at her.

Their eyes met and held for a second.

"When did you get here?"

"When did you get here?"

They were both taken aback, then broke into embarrassed smiles at the same time:

"Last month."

"Last week."

Song Ran's face turned a little red. She pressed her lips together and glanced at the vegetable patch outside the room. He also paused, waiting for her to speak first.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, separated by the warm, setting sun.

Finally, he picked up the topic again, saying, "How did you end up here? I thought your TV station only sent male reporters over."

"Discriminating against women?" Her brow furrowed slightly.

"That's not what I meant." He smiled gently, his eyes looking directly at her. Although his smile was gentle, a soldier's gaze would always carry a hint of blade-like sharpness and brightness.

She averted her eyes, fiddled with the ends of her damp hair, and said, "I'm a reporter. If we don't rush to the front, are we supposed to run to the back? ...What about you? How did you come here? I heard from Political Commissar Luo that peacekeeping missions are applied for voluntarily."

"I'm a soldier. If we don't rush to the front, are we supposed to run to the back?" he said lightly, mimicking her.

"..." Song Ran pressed her lips together. "Oh. Alright."

The patch of sunset on the floor stretched into a long rectangle. The puddle of water at the doorway had also completely evaporated.

She didn't want to stay any longer. Looking at a few chickens running past outside, she said, "You should have a formation to fall into later. I'll get going now."

"Mm."

"Thanks again." She pointed to the windowsill. "For the comb."

"You're being too polite." He smiled again, revealing his nice teeth.

Song Ran turned and left the room. Her silhouette quickly passed by the window frame, and then she started running.

Li Zan walked to the door with his hands in his pockets and poked his head out for a look. She had bolted off faster than a rabbit, rounding the end of the military camp in the blink of an eye and disappearing from view.

Song Ran ran around the corner in one breath before stopping to pant heavily.

She slowed her pace, regulated her breathing, and as she walked, she suddenly slapped her forehead hard with her palm.

Song Ran's work backpack was still in Luo Zhan's office. When she went in to get it, she had forgotten to even greet him, her mind heavy with thoughts.

Luo Zhan had just put down the phone. Seeing her like this, he knocked on the table.

She came back to her senses. "Political Commissar!"

"What's wrong? Your brows are all furrowed."

"Nothing." She immediately smoothed her brow and widened her eyes.

"Which blind fool made you angry? Tell me, I'll have him run 10 kilometers."

Song Ran let out a laugh. "No one. I was thinking about story ideas."

"Oh, right. I was just about to tell you. Tomorrow, a small squad is going on a mine-clearing mission. You're going with them."

"Okay."

Song Ran shouldered her large backpack and left. Just after she walked out, she came back and poked her head in. "Commissar Luo, can they really be made to run 10 kilometers?"

Luo Zhan knew she was joking and pretended to be stern, pointing his finger at her twice.

She stuck out her tongue, smiled, and slipped away.

The power went out again in the early hours of the next day.

It was terribly hot indoors. Song Ran slept poorly, tossing and turning, and her alarm clock almost failed to wake her.

When she rushed to the base with her backpack, the officers and soldiers of the demining squad were already assembled on the military truck.

Song Ran ran over and apologized for keeping them waiting.

The squad leader's surname was Yang. He comforted her, saying she wasn't late; they had just gotten ready themselves.

"Get on." Captain Yang looked up at the soldiers sitting in the back of the truck and said, "Give her a hand."

Just as Song Ran was about to climb onto the truck, a hand reached down. It wore a black, half-finger combat glove, revealing long, slender fingers.

She looked up and saw Li Zan wearing a half-face mask. The visible eyes curved into a smile at her.

Song Ran silently placed her hand in his. The hand gripped hers tightly, and with a strong pull, she stepped onto the truck bed and sat down in a spot near the outside edge.

Li Zan, still stooped over and not yet seated, gestured with his chin toward the inside. "You sit further in."

Song Ran didn't understand why, but she hugged her backpack and scooted one spot further in. Just then, the truck suddenly started and made a turn. Li Zan, who hadn't found his footing, swayed and lurched sharply toward Song Ran.

Just as he was about to fall on top of her, he braced his hands against the truck's canvas cover, holding himself up. Song Ran turned her face away, encircled by his arms, so scared she didn't even dare to breathe.

The truck stabilized. He sat back down and, along with the comrade opposite him, pulled up the truck's tailgate and latched it.

Song Ran's face was burning hot. She tried hard to calm herself, but her heart was pounding uncontrollably. Annoyed, she took out her mask and covered her face completely.

She didn't look at him, but he was really and truly sitting right beside her.

The road was in poor condition, and the truck jolted along. It was inevitable that their arms and legs would touch. Even through their long-sleeved clothes and pants, she felt uneasy.

This is killing me.

A few soldiers in the truck were dozing with their eyes closed, probably from not sleeping well the previous night. It was quiet inside the truck; no one was talking. Song Ran also felt a wave of drowsiness from the rocking, so she rested her chin on her backpack and closed her eyes heavily.

Song Ran only woke up when the truck stopped.

Li Zan unlatched the tailgate and leaped off the truck. The other soldiers followed one after another, like dumplings being dropped into a pot. The height of over half a meter was no problem for them at all.

Song Ran walked to the edge of the truck bed. Li Zan stood below, looking up at her, and said, "Give me your bag."

"It's pretty heavy," she reminded him in a small voice.

He took it easily and placed it by his feet, asking, "Can you get down by yourself?"

"Yes." She squatted down to lower her center of gravity and jumped down. Seeing this, he still reached out, took her elbow, and supported her.

"Thanks." She landed on the ground and shouldered her backpack.

They had arrived at a village in the outskirts.

Some villagers had fled as refugees. Most people's ancestors had lived here for generations; they were poor and couldn't leave.

At this time of year, the wheat in the mountains was ripe. Vast stretches of golden yellow covered the hills. A few olive trees were dotted among them, like guardians of this land.

The minefield was in a depression in the mountainous area. A few days ago, a farming couple had stepped on a landmine while harvesting wheat and died. The mines were laid by the Rebel Army when they were repelled. The Government Army was busy fighting and had no manpower to clear them.

The squad's mission was not to clear all the landmines in the mountains; the cost of such an operation would be too high. What they had to do was to open up a safe path for the nearby residents and simply put up danger signs in the remaining areas.

The soldiers took their detectors and quickly dispersed onto the hillside, scanning and clearing the area inch by inch.

Captain Yang instructed Song Ran not to walk on any ground they hadn't already covered.