Not a single breeze by the ear, the thick air filled with flying dust, rescue workers bustling to and fro, footsteps hurried, the noisy voices contain a girl's voice, Shen Liguang's body stiffens sharply.
"Can you hold this for me for a moment?"
Shen Liguang hastily stuffs things into the hands of someone beside him and limps towards the crowd.
Behind him, someone shouts: "Your leg isn't healed yet, where are you going?" There's no response.
Fu Ying's heart is about to jump out of her throat, but as that person turns around, she looks bewilderedly at her: "You, you're looking for me?"
"Sorry, I mistook you for someone else."
This person's back resembles his, but it isn't him.
Fu Ying grips her backpack strap tightly, turning back to the vehicle.
Following the voice, Shen Liguang searches through the coming and going crowd; they mingle inside, one heading into the crowd, another walking away from it.
