Suddenly, a gust of wind blew, making Quinn Qing’s black hair flutter.
He squinted, lazily leaning back against the simple seat, and chuckled: "Captain, aren’t you worried Andrew Han will come question you?"
Seems so.
No need to worry—I, Quinn Qing, am not getting off this helicopter.
...
Winter sunlight shone into the cabin.
A middle-aged man with a weathered face slowly exhaled, slipped his left hand into his pocket, carefully took out his iPhone, and logged onto WeChat.
There was a pinned contact on his screen.
It was his wife of seven years. He opened the chat—she’d sent him two short videos recorded on her phone.
Yaya.
His five-year-old son bounced across the grass, chubby-faced and full of energy.
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The video ended with his wife’s familiar face.
You rascal.
In the future, be good and listen to your mother.
The man’s right hand trembled, hesitated, then gently caressed the screen, replaying the WeChat videos over and over, as if savoring the most precious thing in his life.
Whew.
He slowly raised his head, looked at Warren Wang: "Brother Wang, I’m not getting off."
...
The man sitting next to Warren Wang had a fair complexion.
A smile played on his lips; he was the only Martial General in the cabin who openly smiled.
Brother Wang, at this point, what’s the difference between getting off or not?
He brushed off his fine clothes and firmly gripped the pendant around his neck: "You too, always stingy—how much did you pay for this helicopter? Must’ve picked the cheapest one."
Look at this.
It’s flying so slow—we’re all getting impatient.
The others shook their heads and smiled.
Hmph.
Warren Wang snorted coldly, giving him a sideways look: "Then get off."
Not getting off.
Fools, all of you!" Warren Wang cursed: "I tell you to get off, and every single one of you insists on staying?
I must stand true to my conscience and protect the stability of Sinovera. I must keep my iron will and safeguard the lives of the people. I must stand in the clear world and slay demons and specters.
From this day, I hold faith in my heart and give my all.
From this day, I battle demons, I fight specters.
From this day, I vow never to retreat, not even in death.
Gulp.
Warren Wang’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.
He slowly extended his right hand, heavy as a thousand pounds, and pressed it atop the others: "Tempered into steel, even if we die. Exhaust our lives, no matter the storm. Forge glory with soaring fighting spirit, and guard the southern lands of Sinovera with blades bared."
The words hung in the air.