At this moment, Zhou Jiao, with whom Zhang Guoqing has walked hand in hand for two lifetimes, Ping’an as well, and even the relatives of the Old Zhang family.
They unanimously chose to distance themselves from the forward command tent, concealing what was already within reach, and immediately engaged in rescue work without rest.
As night gradually fell, a loudspeaker’s voice sounded, "Comrades, let us mourn for the people who perished in this earthquake."
This was a sentence Zhang Guoqing repeated every day. He believed that whether it was a superstitious act to comfort souls or to boost morale, it was necessary.
But this distorted voice, even Zhou Jiao, who accompanied him every night, could not recognize.
By this time, Zhang Guoqing had not closed his eyes for more than a week continuously, and among his communication staff, two had already collapsed, leaving only Xiao Wang following closely behind him.
In just a few days, Zhang Guoqing visibly lost weight, his voice seriously hoarse. Even so, it was thanks to Xiao Wang forcing him to drink some water and eat a few bites of dry food.
Fortunately, neither Zhou Jiao nor Ping’an saw this, otherwise, how could they calmly devote themselves to the rescue work?
Of course, it wasn’t just Zhang Guoqing; all the command officers at the forward command center had bloodshot eyes, visibly losing weight.
Time is life, to save one more person by racing against the clock, everyone is in a state of sleeplessness, facing one corpse after another, and severed limbs...
Under such heavy mental pressure, facing the specific data reported from all sides, who could take it lightly?
Even Zhang Guoqing, who knew history well, while comparing historical data, realized more survivors had emerged in this war against nature, yet the heaviness in his heart was indescribable.
He had gradually heard some rumors and cries from the survivors. He dared not imagine, even more afraid to delve into anyone’s responsibility.
Besides the rumors spread by the couple themselves, there were people who witnessed celestial anomalies and suggested a natural disaster, yet some dismissed it as creating public opinion, counter-revolutionary.
A small number of people, sensing something amiss, fled, but more remained skeptical, choosing to continue working; whom to blame for this?
Often, it’s fate and destiny!
They coincidentally converged just like this.
Working busily until late at night, Ping’an spared a moment to gaze at the still-lit tent in the distance, sighing internally, realizing his father wouldn’t sleep or rest again tonight.
Then he frowned slightly, wondering if he was seeing things or hearing things, as he seemed to hear his mother’s voice during the afternoon’s busy period.
Shouldn’t be!
Given the bloodstains everywhere, how could his mother, who is so obsessed with cleanliness, endure this? He must have been overthinking.
With a shred of wishful thinking, Ping’an leaned next to his buddies, barely dozing off, and dawn was breaking. Remembering what he saw in his dream, he still felt uneasy in the end.
Circumnavigating to the place from yesterday, Ping’an checked the landmarks, quickly finding a familiar elder, learning shortly that his mother had indeed come over.
He was instantly astonished!
If he remembered correctly, what did his mother say before he set off? — Oh, reassure your father, I’ll truly stay at home, waiting for you and your dad to return home safely!
Oh dear, my mother! You’re so bold, does my father know?



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