Li Zan looked back, only to see cars coming and going on the street. A few cars were approaching him at a normal speed, with nothing out of the ordinary.

"That car!" Song Ran yelled again, running over with all her might.

Li Zan quickly scanned the drivers inside all the cars, one after another, identifying them with great speed.

As if driven by a naturally sharp instinct, his gaze swept over the driver's seat of a sedan, and he sensed something was wrong.

The man in black in the car met his eyes. In a flash, both were on alert.

Li Zan raised a hand to signal him to stop, while his other hand went to his waist. The man in black slammed on the accelerator in an instant, and in the next, Li Zan drew his gun, aimed, and pulled the trigger. "Bang," the sedan's front right tire was blown out!

The car swerved violently, crashing towards the side of the road where Li Zan stood. The man in black let up on the gas, controlled the steering, then hit the accelerator again, intending to escape onto the main road. The moment the vehicle turned away, Li Zan dashed forward in two or three steps, leaped onto the car's hood, and fired with a "bang." Half the windshield shattered, and Li Zan rolled into the driver's cabin. He glanced back and saw a bomb in the backseat.

The attacker drew a gun and aimed at Li Zan. Li Zan blocked him, grabbing his wrist to disarm him. But his opponent was no pushover; his strength was astonishing. The two men wrestled, tangled up in a struggle.

"Bang!"

The remaining half of the windshield shattered. Shards of glass flew, cutting both their faces.

The smell of blood ignited the men's fighting spirit. Their eyes turned red as they fought with greater force. The accelerator was floored, and the car rampaged through the street.

The Dongguo soldiers at the temple gate rushed forward to intercept. Li Zan roared, "Bomb!"

The soldiers didn't dare shoot at the car; they could only aim for the tires.

The car jolted wildly, not slowing down in the slightest as it charged straight into the grand bazaar.

Merchants, vendors, and customers screamed and scattered in all directions; bolts of cloth, spices, and flatbreads slammed against the car's body.

The attacker's target was precisely the crowded weekend market. The moment he rushed into the center of the crowd, he slammed on the brakes. Inertia threw the two struggling men against the car's console.

The attacker flailed, trying to grab and press the bomb's detonator. Li Zan seized his gun hand and landed a heavy punch on his face. The man in black jerked back, and the remote in his hand flew onto the console. He then decided to grab the gun with both hands and shoot the bomb. Li Zan held his hand in a death grip and twisted it upwards. "Bang!" The bullet pierced the car roof. While restraining the man's hand, Li Zan kicked the console, sending the remote flying out through the shattered windshield. He then kicked the attacker's knee hard, and the man screamed in pain. Li Zan seized the opportunity to stomp on the accelerator, and the car sped up again, continuing its rampage forward through the bazaar.

When Song Ran reached the market's covered area, she only saw that the car had carved a path of chaos and destruction as it burst out of the grand bazaar. People cowered on either side of this "road," still in shock.

Song Ran stepped over a floor littered with shelves, wood, spices, and cloth, and ran frantically out.

She heard a series of gunshots, each one piercing her heart.

This path was too long. The market exit at the end was a blaze of white light—the brilliant sunlight outside. She ran with all her might, but the moment she burst into the scorching sun, she heard a tremendous explosion in the distance.

The street in front of her was unharmed. People stared at the sky in terror.

The car was already several streets away; the site of the explosion was not visible.

Song Ran's heart plummeted. She ran for her life in that direction.

She ran for who knows how long, arriving out of breath—it was a small shopping street. The Government Army had already arrived and cordoned it off. Song Ran wanted to go in and see but was not allowed. The reporters from various countries swarming in reminded her: it was time to start working.

She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to calm her emotions first.

Like the other reporters, she showed her press pass but could only report from the outer circle. The scene inside was too bloody. Except for a few local reporters, no one else was allowed near.

Song Ran found a spot among a crowd of foreign journalists with an unobstructed view, quickly set up her various pieces of equipment, and established a satellite link with her home country.

While the signal was connecting, she scanned her surroundings.

The street had been blown to bits. Burning trash and clothing rolled across the ground. The car was now a fiery wreck. The two shops closest to the bomb had been blasted into black holes, with flames dancing on their door panels and walls. Soldiers were putting out the fire with extinguishers.

In the middle of the street, several bodies lay strewn about, some dismembered. The stench of blood hung in the air. Soldiers and doctors searched among the people for anyone who could still be saved. The dead were abandoned; there was no time for them.

It was the first time Song Ran had seen such a scene. Anger, nausea, grief, helplessness... all kinds of emotions churned in her chest. Her eyes were red, and she felt on the verge of vomiting.

But a signal came through her earpiece: "Song Ran? Can you hear me? Song Ran?"

She quickly turned back, gritted her teeth, and instantly composed herself. Once the connection was established, she faced the camera and began to report clearly:

"At 10:32 AM local time on September 10th, a suicide bombing occurred in Galuo City, in south-central Dongguo. The exact number of casualties awaits official confirmation. It is currently impossible to determine which faction the suicide bomber belongs to..."

Beside her, a row of foreign journalists were all communicating with their own stations. They did not interfere with each other.

After Song Ran finished her live report and transmitted the on-site footage, she heard the signal cut off in her earpiece.

She was preparing to pack her equipment when she happened to see a soldier clearing bodies pick up a small child and lay him properly by the roadside. The child was tiny in the soldier's arms, head tilted back, little hands and feet dangling like a broken rag doll.

The soldier laid him by the roadside, touched his head, and turned to carry another body.

Song Ran took a breath, leaned on her tripod for support, and bent over deeply.

She barely managed to stand up straight. Just then, several familiar Chinese soldiers appeared, helping to move the bodies. That deep fear surged in her heart again.

Song Ran suddenly dashed toward the police cordon and was immediately stopped by a Dongguo soldier. She watched as soldiers continued to extinguish the burning car, frantic with worry. Just then, a Chinese soldier walked by. She grabbed him and asked, "Where is Officer Li? Is he in the car?!"

"Who?"

"Second Lieutenant Li. Li Zan!"

"He was sent to the hospital."

Song Ran's mind went blank. She turned and ran.

Thirty-eight-degree heat, a one-kilometer road. Carrying her heavy equipment bag, she ran all the way to the end and burst into the hospital.

The surroundings were chaotic. The injured were everywhere—mangled flesh, gaping wounds, severed limbs.

The wails of children and the screams of adults were incessant. Doctors and nurses were short-staffed, running around with bandages, yelling for help.

Song Ran's face was covered in tears and sweat. She searched the entire hospital, looking for a Chinese person, any Chinese person at all.

Wherever she looked, the victims' wounds seemed to be tearing open on the corresponding parts of her own body. The pain was killing her.

She passed someone covered with a white cloth, tremblingly lifted it to look, and quickly dropped it again in fright.

"I'm sorry!"

Crying was everywhere. She cried along with them, pushing through the crowds of people as she searched.

Finally, at the end of the corridor, familiar camouflage uniforms and combat boots appeared, along with the bright red national insignia on the clothes.

The soldier was lying on a gurney, his whole body convulsing, as two doctors pressed on his chest to stop the bleeding.

Song Ran rushed over. It was Jiang Lin. His chest was a bloody mess, but he was still conscious, his face contorted in pain.

Song Ran felt her heart being ripped apart. She didn't dare to look for long, covering her mouth as she turned away, tears streaming down her face.

Through her blurry, tear-filled eyes, she saw Li Zan standing a few meters away, carrying a bag of bandages.

His face had a few cuts and his clothes were stained with blood, but he seemed mostly all right. He looked at her, a little surprised. "What's wrong?"

Song Ran looked at him, opened her mouth but couldn't say a word, and turned her head away as tears poured down.

Li Zan stood still for two seconds, then walked over. He looked at Jiang Lin being treated, then at Song Ran, who was a crying mess. He was stunned for a moment, then asked again in a low voice, "Why are you crying?"

Song Ran hung her head and didn't answer, roughly wiping away her tears before turning and running out.

...

Song Ran sat on the steps at the back door of the hospital. The tear stains on her face had dried, covered with soot and dust.

On the street by the back door, people came and went. Everything looked quite ordinary.

A man straddled a motorcycle, chatting with the owner of a spice shop on the roadside; a woman walked by holding the hands of her son and daughter, the children singing happily; by the bus stop, a few men and women waited for the bus, their expressions indifferent.

Everyone was already prepared. This day was bound to come sooner or later.

The rebel and terrorist forces had already infiltrated the south.

Those who could flee had fled long ago. The ones who remained were those who couldn't leave; with no money and no power, they had no way out, able only to stand by indifferently and await their fate.

Footsteps approached from behind.

Li Zan walked down the steps, sat beside her, and handed her a small piece of damp bandage.

She gave him a hasty glance.

"Wipe your face," he said.

Song Ran wiped her tear-blurred eyes, then rubbed her cheeks. The white bandage was quickly covered in dirt. She kept her head down without speaking, looking very sad.

Li Zan watched her for a moment, then looked into the distance and said softly, "Jiang Lin is fine, don't worry."

Song Ran picked at the bandage in her hands. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind, but she had nothing to say.

A heart full of sorrow coalesced into a single sentence: "I'm crying for every person who was injured today." She rolled the damp bandage in her hand, forcefully wiping her dirty fingers again and again, and said, "Today... was too tragic."

"You've never seen anything like this before."

"No. What about you?"

"I saw it during the last evacuation. So..."

"What?"

"I was thinking if there's something that can be done to end all this sooner. But..." He gave a very faint curl of his lips, a smile with no mirth, only a hint of bitterness. He didn't finish the sentence, leaving it hanging.

Song Ran consoled him, "Although many were injured today, few died. If it had exploded in the market, the consequences would have been unimaginable... You saved a lot of people."

Li Zan gently shook his head.

He hadn't been able to defuse the bomb. After he killed the attacker, he jumped into the backseat intending to defuse it. But the man had accomplices; they drove up and started shooting at the car. Li Zan had no other choice but to abandon the car and roll out. In the end, a bullet detonated the bomb.

His mind wasn't calm either; he wanted to say something. But the back door of the hospital pushed open, and a soldier poked his head out. "Jiang Lin is all bandaged up, he's fine."

"Good." Li Zan got up. Beside him, Song Ran also stood up. Her legs were a bit numb, and she stumbled slightly as she rose.

Li Zan subconsciously reached out to steady her, but she pulled her arm back, pretending to dodge him unintentionally.

His hand hung in the air for half a second before he slowly retracted it. She had already walked into the hospital to see Jiang Lin.

On the other side of the corridor corner, his comrades-in-arms gathered around Jiang Lin, checking on him. Song Ran was also softly comforting him.

On this side of the corner, Li Zan leaned against the wall, head down, dabbing at the wound on his hand with a cotton ball.

After wiping for a while, he furrowed his brow and lifted his head, leaning it against the wall to silently gaze at the sky. As he stared, he let out a heavy sigh.