The car drove past the long aircraft carrier island. In the distant massive parking apron, fighter jets and military helicopters were densely arranged. The aircraft group took off and circled in the blue sky, like an orderly group of seabirds, continuously transporting survivors and weapon supplies.
Some soldiers established a survivor refuge in the Northeast, while others came to the South China Sea, settling in a large artificial island and military base, establishing a new military headquarters.”
The military officer drove while diligently explaining. Zhou Rong sat in the passenger seat, one hand supporting his forehead, letting the sea breeze blow through his hair, nodding thoughtfully.
“After the base and headquarters were established, the entire military was restructured. Rescue teams began repairing communication towers, rescuing survivors and building refugee facilities. The military sacrificed countless soldiers, establishing six large refugee centers at a tremendous cost.”
Zhou Rong suddenly glanced at him: “We traveled thousands of miles from North China southward. How come we didn’t see a single one?”
“Guangxi, Yunnan, Qinghai, Inner Mongolia, Jilin, Heilongjiang,” the military officer gave a bitter smile. “Colonel Zhou came south through the Two Lakes region, right? The Central Plains are densely populated with zombies. The military couldn’t advance, and probably only your 118 special forces could have survived.”
Zhou Rong said nothing, lowering his eyes heavily.
“If rescue operations can’t be launched by this autumn, the Central Plains might become an uninhabited zone.”
Only the sound of sea wind rushing into the car cabin drowned out the officer’s solemn sigh.
The car stopped at the island’s central corridor. Zhou Rong picked up his briefcase and got out. The military officer called from behind: “Colonel Zhou!”
Zhou Rong turned back, seeing him run over and stand at attention with a serious expression.
“The headquarters sent many troops to B Military Region early this year to try rescuing research materials, but all failed. Fortunately, Colonel Zhou risked his life to retrieve the results during the first moments of the virus outbreak. I deeply admire you.”
Zhou Rong impatiently pressed his hand down: “Lieutenant, thanks. Don’t make a fuss.”
Zhou Rong walked into the corridor against the strong wind, leaving the officer standing outside in a daze.
Zhou Rong said: “When we entered the military district underground research institute, we sent a satellite communication, saying we would try our best to find the materials and go to the South China Sea. Why did the military still…”
“After receiving the communication, the military has been looking for you.” The old man sighed: “But the short-wave communications from Hubei, Hunan to the coastal areas of Guangdong were completely cut off. In the vast, scorched earth, where could they find your traces? The two shelters in Guangxi and Yunnan were filled with the lives of soldiers.”
Zhou Rong closed his eyes silently.
“Without finding you, the military wouldn’t know if the materials from B Military District were taken out, so they didn’t dare to launch missile strikes.” After a pause, the old man continued: “According to the calculations of the General Staff Headquarters, the probability of you successfully infiltrating B Military District and returning to the South China Sea with the materials is less than 1%.”
Indeed.
If they hadn’t met Si Nan, with only five special forces soldiers, the thousand-mile journey from B City southward would have been enough to kill them ten times over. But conversely, if they hadn’t met him, even if Si Nan had grown three heads and six arms, he would have been unlikely to survive.
That chance encounter on an autumn afternoon in T City, with a one-in-ten-million probability, was enough to change the predetermined trajectory of many things and the fate of many people.
“But you did create a miracle. When you were assigned to the special forces back then, no one could have imagined this would happen.”
Zhou Rong was about to speak modestly, but the old man interrupted him before he could: “Did Lao Zheng tell you about restoring your position?”
Zhou Rong thought for a moment and said: “Yes, General Zheng told me that the 118th has been disbanded.”
The old man nodded silently. Zhou Rong looked at him sincerely and said: “Sir, I hope the Military Commission can consider rebuilding the 118th. If the personnel are gone, we can recruit again.
As long as I, the squadron leader, am here, the sixth squadron’s establishment remains, and the 118th still exists. Although the 118th was not established for long, it has made countless remarkable military achievements…
The old man did not interrupt him, his expression showing neither approval nor opposition. Only after Zhou Rong finished speaking did he suddenly ask:
“Do you know about the Foreign Ministry recruiting people from the 118th two years ago?”
Zhou Rong was stunned for a moment. “I know.”
“Why didn’t you apply?”
Zhou Rong pondered for a long time before saying: “I feel that under the current circumstances, being an ordinary major in the special forces allows me to do more for the country.”
Si Nan was right about one thing: Zhou Rong was the type who could speak appropriately to different people, always finding the most suitable words to express unpleasant meanings.
A hint of a smile passed through the old man’s somewhat cloudy eyes, clearly agreeing with Si Nan: “No, Lieutenant Colonel. I heard about you being cured by the serum antibodies. I think you’ll be more useful staying at the military headquarters before the vaccine is developed.”
Zhou Rong said: “Yes…”
“The 118th Battalion made indelible contributions at the beginning of the virus outbreak… and will be forever recorded in the republic’s military history alongside its brother units.
Before Zhou Rong could say anything else, the old man perceptively saw his thoughts: “The casualty rate at the front is too high, Lieutenant Colonel. A man who doesn’t care for his family, how can he talk about the country?”
Zhou Rong was instantly speechless, standing there stiffly.
At this moment, an officer hurried in and whispered something in the old man’s ear. The old man raised his hand to indicate he understood, then patted the table towards Zhou Rong: “Alright, you need to go now!”
Zhou Rong was puzzled, and the old man sighed softly.
“You don’t know yet? Lao Guo is gone, from the time of transferring out of B Military District. Go see his grandson. His belongings were just delivered.”
When B Military District was destroyed, the Military Commission organized a large-scale evacuation. Deputy Minister Guo voluntarily stayed behind to command, but missed the last helicopter.
Zhou Rong nodded and thanked the escorting soldier. At the end of the corridor was a small canteen, not yet dinner time, now empty with only Chun Cao and Ding Shi standing nervously at the door, peering inside.
Zhou Rong put his finger to his lips, signaling them to be quiet, then walked in.
Guo Weixiang was slumped at the dining table, facing the wall corner, the entire canteen with only him sitting alone. From behind, he seemed to be burying his face in his hands.
Zhou Rong walked directly past him to the vending machine on the other wall, buying armfuls of beer and cigarettes, then turned and noisily piled them on the table, pulling out the folding chair in front of Guo Weixiang.
“Come on,” he opened a beer can, pulled down Guo Weixiang’s left hand without explanation, and stuffed the beer can into his hand: “This is all the cash I have. I’m treating you today at the risk of my life.”
Guo Weixiang’s eyes were bloodshot, his right hand about to cover his eyes, but Zhou Rong forcefully stuffed a soft Zhonghua cigarette.
“Rong Ge…”
