A whirlwind marriage with a high-ranking official: Lights out, don't force me to take the initi

An unnamed dense forest on the border between Yunnan and Vietnam.

The fog hadn't completely dissipated, and the damp wind, carrying the fishy smell of grass and trees, crept into my collar.

A few kapok trees were scattered about, and the ground beneath them was covered with crimson petals.

Ding Jiahe knelt on the damp soil, her fingertips holding a piece of sterile gauze, her movements steady without a tremor.

The wound on the injured man's leg was still bleeding. He gritted his teeth and waited for her to gently apply the anti-inflammatory powder.

"Bear with it." She said in a low voice, but her hands didn't stop.

Several people nearby were leaning against the tree trunk, guns resting on their knees, and no one spoke.

The radio station is eerily quiet; there hasn't been a single response in the past few days.

After treating the last wounded soldier, Ding Jiahe checked the remaining medicines.

Gauze, anti-inflammatory powder, hemostatic drugs... are running low, she has to use them sparingly.

She rolled up her trouser leg and glanced at the abrasions on her calf. They weren't serious and could be managed for the time being, so she decided not to use medication for now.

"Don't skimp on treating the wounds," the guerrilla captain said, having seen through her intentions, as he walked over to her.

"If there's one person in our team who has to survive, it has to be you. Don't you know how important a battlefield medic is?"

Ding Jiahe paused for a moment, then nodded.

"Yes."

Without further hesitation, she began to disinfect and bandage the abrasions on her legs.

As night approached, the team prepared to rest.

She leaned against the trunk of a kapok tree, gazing at the darkening sky.

This is the fourth day they have lost contact with their rear.

Since the ambush and the damage to their communication equipment, they have been cut off from the outside world.

Everyone knew that enemies might still be lurking around, so they could only slow down, be extremely careful, and retreat cautiously.

Ding Jiahe lowered her head, picked up a kapok flower from beside her feet, and looked at it in her hand. This was the first time she had ever seen the legendary kapok flower since she came here.

Completely different from what she had imagined, she thought the kapok flower, as its name suggests, was gentle and soft like cotton.

But in reality, the flower was thick and full, quite large, and even a bit heavy.

Holding it in my hand felt like holding a lump of congealed blood, or someone's heart.

Almost every soldier knows the meaning of the kapok flower.

Flowers bloom and never return; once fallen, they are gone forever. They are the flowers of heroes, but also the flowers of no return.

At this moment, this group of people, like these flowers, are trapped in this sea of ​​blood-red blossoms.

-----------------

One day later, at a temporary post on the Yunnan border.

A truck covered in mud stopped at the camp entrance. Wang Hao jumped out of the truck, still wearing the shirt he had worn when he set off.

He strode towards the registration point.

"Reporting! Wang Hao, company commander of the 3rd Company, 2nd Independent Battalion, 39th Military Region, reporting for duty!"

The staff officer in charge of receiving him glanced at him, then looked at his transfer order, and nodded.

"You must have had a long journey."

"It's not hard work."

"How are you? Do you want to rest a bit? We can assign tasks again tomorrow."

Wang Hao shook his head, his voice low, but every word was clear:

"No need to rest, I can do it now."

The staff officer looked up and met his eyes, which held no weariness, only a burning gaze.

"Okay." The staff officer stood up, picked up a document from the table, and handed it to him.

"Your mission is to join the search and rescue team and conduct search and rescue operations for missing persons in the surrounding area."

Wang Hao was stunned for a moment.

He had already mentally prepared himself to go to the front lines of the battle, which might have nothing to do with the search and rescue of Xiao Ding.

He even thought that he might fall on the battlefield, and she would never know that he had ever been there.

But fate suddenly smiled upon him.

Search and rescue team.

Search for missing persons.

He can...go to see her now.

He gripped the transfer order tightly in his hand, his fingers trembling slightly.

"Yes!" Wang Hao saluted, turned around and followed the staff officer out.

The staff officer led him through several tents to a place with a sign that read "Temporary Command Post of the Search and Rescue Team".

Lifting the curtain, I saw several people inside discussing something in hushed tones around a map.

"Old Zhang, I'll bring you someone." The staff officer called out.

A middle-aged military officer with a full beard looked up, glanced at Wang Hao, and his gaze quickly swept over him.

"The 39th Military Region?" Old Zhang asked.

"Yes."

"How far did you travel?"

"Three days and three nights."

Old Zhang nodded, didn't ask any more questions, and simply beckoned him over.

"Look at the map."

Wang Hao walked quickly to the table.

Old Zhang's finger landed on a dense forest area marked "Area Three":

"This area is where that guerrilla unit last transmitted a signal five days ago. After that, they lost all contact."

He paused, then moved his finger slightly to the side:

"We sent three search and rescue teams in, but they only found some equipment debris and bloodstains. We didn't find a single person."

Wang Hao stared at that area, his throat tightening.

"The fourth search and rescue team is leaving early tomorrow morning. We're short one person. Do you dare to go?"

"go."

Wang Hao did not hesitate.

Old Zhang stared at him for two seconds, then suddenly asked:

"I remember the medic in this team is from the 39th Military Region, do you know him?"

Wang Hao paused for a moment, then nodded.

Old Zhang didn't ask any more questions, he just patted him on the shoulder.

"Then bring her out alive."

It was four o'clock the next morning, and it was still dark.

Wang Hao shouldered his equipment and followed the search and rescue team into the dense forest.

The fog was so thick that you couldn't see anything more than a few steps away. The captain led the way, directing with hand gestures, and everyone else moved forward in silence.

They traversed the scorched earth, crossed tree trunks uprooted by artillery fire, and found several empty shell casings by a stream.

The captain squatted down, picked one up, and examined it from all angles.

"They belong to them."

Wang Hao's heart skipped a beat.

"It must have been left two days ago. Keep searching forward, stay alert, and be careful to stay hidden," the captain said in a low voice.

The group nodded, gripped their guns tightly, and once again ventured into the fog.

The fog hadn't lifted yet, and the dense forest was shrouded in a gray haze, making it impossible to see anything in the distance.

Ding Jiahe's team traversed through the dense forest, the soil beneath their feet becoming increasingly soft, causing them to sink in and leave deep footprints.

An unidentified bird called overhead, its calls seeming to remind them not to stop.

The captain stopped, looked around, and made a hand gesture.

"Make some repairs."

The group sat down on the spot, leaning against the tree trunk. No one spoke. Some loosened their collars to let in some fresh air, some looked down to check their guns, and some closed their eyes to breathe, their chests heaving violently.

Ding Jiahe leaned against a tree, too tired to even move her fingers.

"Have something to eat." The guerrilla captain handed over a compressed biscuit.

"Captain, I've already eaten." Ding Jiahe didn't take it.

"Bullshit!" The captain glared at her. "I've been watching your mouth the whole way here. Have you even taken a bite? Do you think you're made of iron?"

Ding Jiahe was stunned for a moment.

"Captain, are you from Northeast China?"

The captain raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly.

"Heh, I'm mixed race, half Northeasterner and half Southerner."

Ding Jiahe's face was covered in dust and dirt, stained with blood, yet a rare smile appeared on it.

"Your 'bullshit' comment just now had a very strong flavor of my hometown."

"Half...that means we're from the same hometown. I never expected to meet someone from my hometown here."

The captain didn't speak, he just looked at her, and after a while, he asked:

"Missing home?"

Ding Jiahe did not answer.

She broke off a small piece of the compressed biscuit, put it in her mouth, and chewed it slowly.

The captain didn't ask any more questions, leaned back against the tree trunk, and looked at the dark forest.

After a moment of silence, he suddenly spoke:

"Don't worry, we'll go back."