Zong Ying tried to hear the other party's words clearly, but the noise outside became louder; the signal was poor, and the sound was intermittent. Reading at zero

She frowned, opened the door and walked out quickly. The streets before dawn were cold and clear, and the air was strangely fresh and humid, and she could finally hear Sheng Qingrang's voice clearly.

He said, "Miss Zong, I take the liberty to disturb you, but I—" still had a heavy nasal voice, sounding a little tired: "I need your help very much."

"You speak."

"My current location is far from the public concession, but I urgently need to get back to the concession by six o'clock."

"Whose number is this?" Zong Ying was always calm, "If it's a borrowed mobile phone, please ask him to answer the phone."

A girl picked up the phone and carefully "hello".

Zong Ying said, "Please send me your address by text message, and at the same time tell the gentleman next to you to let him wait there." Then he said, "Thank you for your help, it's helpful."

The other party hurriedly said, "It doesn't matter, I'll send it to you right away." Then he hung up the phone.

Ten seconds later, a text message pushed Zong Ying's phone. Zong Ying glanced at the screen, opened the door and quickly turned back to the private room, calling to wake up Xue Xuanqing.

Xue Xuanqing opened his eyes lazily, looking drunk.

"I'm in a hurry, lend me the car for a while, and I'll ask someone to take you back."

Xue Xuanqing half-closed her eyelids, waved her hand weakly, and motioned her to go.

Zong Ying picked up the car keys on the table, went to the front desk to settle the fee, and added some extra money to ask the waiter to call a taxi for Xue Xuanqing and Xiao Zheng.

When went out at 4:33 in the morning, the sky was a dull blue, and the city had not yet woken up.

Time was short, Zong Ying was driving very fast. After 40 minutes of driving, she glanced at the navigation screen out of the corner of the eye, indicating that she had reached her destination. She raised her head, and there was no one in front of her. Looking in the rearview mirror, she finally found a familiar figure standing under the street lamp.

Zong Ying honked the horn and opened the car window at the same time: "Mr. Sheng, here."

Sheng Qingjang finally recognized her at this time, hurriedly walked to the car with the briefcase, opened the car door and got into the co-pilot.

"Fix your seat belt." Zong Ying said and pulled the seat belt next to him, motioning him to find a way to fasten it, then turned the front of the car and said, "I don't particularly know the boundaries of the concession. Which entrance is the closest here?"

Sheng Qingrang immediately took out a map from his briefcase, pointed to Waibaidu Bridge and said, "Here, Park Bridge."

Zong Ying called out the navigation and calculated the time, almost just enough.

She calmly drove to Waibaidu Bridge, Sheng Qing asked to put away the map and said, "Miss Zong, thank you."

Zong Ying didn't like to be distracted, so he simply didn't open the topic, not even a simple answer.

On the way she came, she thought about why he would ask for help in this way at this time—perhaps because she had used up the cash she gave earlier, so she couldn’t take transportation, and had to walk from the suburbs to this place. Can only find a way to call her.

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Even though his ability to obtain information is excellent, in this sprawling modern city, without money and connections, it is still difficult.

But for now, they don't need to care about them. The main point of attention is that they must pass the Waibaidu Bridge before six o'clock.

As a landmark building in Shanghai, the bridge is located at the junction of the Suzhou River and the Huangpu River. It is an important passage from the north bank of the Suzhou River to the south. It was even more important during the war.

On this side of the bridge, it will soon become a war zone; on the other side of the bridge, is a temporary safe concession——

very different fate.

Today is August 14th, the second day of the war between China and Japan. Those people who were unwilling to flee with luck will start to flee after experiencing the artillery fire of the previous day.

There was probably chaos outside the concession, and there were countless people who wanted to squeeze into the concession for temporary safety.

This bridge will also usher in a crowded peak.

The sky lit up relentlessly, time passed with great principle, and the numbers on the display kept flipping.

Zong Ying glanced at the screen, at 05:55:55, almost instantly, jumped to 05:56:00 again, gradually approaching six o'clock.

The atmosphere in the car became tense, and the navigator unhurriedly issued a voice indicating the road conditions. Zong Ying held the steering wheel and pursed his lips, and the sound of breathing gradually increased in the confined space.

It's so close, as if it's close at hand.

With one minute and ten seconds left, a bright red traffic light blocked their way, and the cars on the opposite side continued to flow.

Zong Ying pushed from D to N and pulled the handbrake. The Waibaidu Bridge is almost in front of you, you can get there by turning a corner, and it is expected to take less than half a minute.

The timer number to the right of the signal light is slowly decrementing, with thirty seconds remaining.

Sheng Qingrang's eyes moved away from the watch dial, looked up at Zong Ying's tense profile, and made a request: "Miss Zong, please let me get off the bus."

Zong Ying pursed his lips even tighter, and suddenly loosened his teeth and said in a short and firm tone: "There are still twenty seconds, please believe me."

He said, "In less than twenty seconds, it's probably too late, Miss Zong."

Zong Ying Zong Ying obviously planned for the worst. She suppressed her anxiety and stared at the signal light: "What if it's too late? The big deal—"

Before she could finish speaking, Zong Ying suddenly heard the sound of the seat belt being unfastened. She tilted her head and saw that Sheng Qingrang was about to open the door and get out of the car.

Almost in the blink of an eye, she leaned forward, crossed the co-pilot and grabbed his hand: "Mr. Sheng, this is very dangerous!"

A car crossed them and headed to the other side of the road, and the horn behind urging people to walk hurriedly sounded. The moment Zong Ying was about to let go, she suddenly noticed a dull pain in her back - she fell to the ground, and she was in a dense crowd, suffering from With overwhelming push.

The scene was so chaotic that almost no one cared about their sudden appearance.

A hand stretched out with extra effort, and was pushed away by the crowd several times. Zong Ying recognized the hand and clenched it hard and in time.

"Miss Zong-"

After the pain of being pushed or even trampled, it is a great luck to be able to stand up and meet again because of the fleeting space in the crowd.

At this point, Zong Ying's senses slowly recovered.

The cries and howls poured into the ears desperately, so crowded as if they were about to split the ear chamber; the smell of sweat and blood lingered on the tip of the nose, almost blocking the entry of fresh air... Zong Ying felt that his internal organs seemed to be compressed When they got together, they seemed to have no feet and moved forward unconsciously, like a weed without roots.

At this time, Sheng Qingran held her hand, and then crossed the crowd to stand beside her, stretched out his arms and hugged her shoulders—

It is a stronger alliance than holding hands, and it is less likely to be scattered by the crowd.

Zong Ying subconsciously held his other hand.

At this moment, she had a chance to catch her breath and looked forward. There were only densely packed heads in her sight, and she couldn't tell who was who. Everyone is ruthlessly carried forward, involved in the sea of ​​​​people, and there is no possibility of retreating.

They all have the same direction - the public concession.

The stampede is still happening, in the front, behind, and under your feet - not every step can be stepped on solid ground, soft, slippery, stubborn, or bone, and innocent casualties due to competition for space at any time. , hopelessness and indifference condensed in the scarce air.

Zong Ying turned his head, and behind him were more dense black heads, spreading out, occupying almost all the streets on the north bank of the bridge. But there is only a bridge more than ten meters wide in front, and everyone wants to pass it alive and reach the other side.

This hysterical vigor overwhelmed the Japanese outposts holding the entrance, and thousands of people poured into the public concession.

Zong Ying remembered the time he got off the bridge, 7:02.

A large number of people went straight to Nanjing Road as if they were reborn, or rushed to the French Concession to the southwest to seize a place in the refugee relief center.

Unlike this morning in 2015, the skyline here is gray and white, and the typhoon has swept across the city untimely.

Zong Ying was exhausted and wanted to sit down and take a breath, but the unusually chaotic crowd on the street did not allow her to relax for a moment.

Sheng Qing let go of her shoulders, and held her hand tightly. He didn't say any unnecessary apologies, he just calmed down his heavy breathing, and said in a steady voice, "Miss Zong, please try to keep up."

He walked exceptionally fast and held his hand very hard, Zong Ying could sense the tension and unease in that power.

She only answered "yes", then lowered her head and followed him all the way to the Chinachem Hotel (Peace Hotel) on Nanjing Road.

Sheng Qing asked him to go through the formalities, and Zong Ying stood by the decorative column and waited.

Many foreign faces gathered in the hotel lobby. They evacuated from the Licha Hotel on the north bank of the Suzhou River earlier and stayed here. They were still well-dressed and not embarrassed. Although they were vaguely worried about the situation during the conversation, they were talking and laughing. , does not seem to think that the danger is closely related to him.

Zong Ying was almost sweating all over because of the crowded and hurried walking. She suddenly couldn't stand, so she found the sofa and sat down.

The customer on the other end of the sofa glanced at Zong Ying, who was in a mess, and apparently regarded her as a refugee from the North Shore. His eyes couldn't help but look a little disdainful, and he said to the waiter who brought the coffee, "What's wrong with Chinachem Hotel? Anyone? Those shoes and clothes, tsk tsk—"

Zong Ying turned his head and glanced at her when he heard the words, and suddenly turned his eyes back to his feet again——

The gray sneakers were almost stained with blood, the socks and trouser legs were mottled with blood, and not a single drop of the blood belonged to her.

The soaked clothes gradually cooled down, and the uncomfortable feeling of being squeezed overflowed from the internal organs. In August, a chill slowly crept up from behind.

In the Huangpu River not far away, the Japanese command ship "Izumo" stopped steadily, and several fighter planes took off in the typhoon day, the roar was suddenly far and near, and almost everyone in the hotel stopped what they were doing. Focus on listening to that voice.

The air raid began.

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