When Feng Qibai finished playing "Little Apple," the stars and moon disappeared, and the sun rose in the east.
Having been deeply moved and brought peace to his heart by the ancient-style divine music, Zhao He was at a loss for words to describe the performance. After a long pause, he finally uttered, "You've brought light to the sky."
Feng Qibai didn't know if it was a compliment or sarcasm, and didn't want to ask further, so he simply replied, "Yes."
Unable to keep up with his two comrades' train of thought, Wu Zhou decided to do something practical, such as listening to see if there was any response from either side.
However, all that could be heard was the biting morning wind whistling past the rooftop.
After concentrating for a long time, it seemed as if one could vaguely catch some voices, but they were too faint and were blown away by the cold wind before one could hear them clearly.
This was a windy day that filled one with despair.
In the teachers' office on the twelfth floor of the Gewu Building, three people took turns shouting, sometimes in unison, for a full half-song. Sometimes they sang along, sometimes they shouted out their comrades' names. They didn't know which friend was making the noise; they just shouted whoever it was. In the end, they didn't receive a response until the song was over.
The three of them were extremely anxious.
Song Fei simply jumped onto the windowsill, hooked his hand on the window frame, and leaned four-fifths of his body out, looking around as if on patrol while shouting at the top of his lungs: "Song Fei! Qi Yan! He Zhiwen! These three are in the Gewu Building—in the Gewu Building—inside the building—ahhhhhh—"
Qi Yan was so frightened that his heart almost stopped. He wasn't afraid of screaming; he was afraid that Qi Yan would fall!
Qi Yan hurriedly put his arm around the troublesome goods, while He Zhiwen quickly assessed the situation based on the location: "Song Fei, stop shouting. Whether it's Yixinlou or Lubanlou further away, they won't hear us shouting here, and even if they do, they won't hear clearly. The distance is too far, and there's Qiushilou in between."
Song Fei knew that He Zhiwen was right, but their comrades had already sounded the rallying cry, and they couldn't just stand by and do nothing.
Seeing Song Fei's expression, Qi Yan knew what he wanted to say, so without him having to speak, he asked He, a student from the Physics Department, "Do you have any other better ways to send messages?"
He Zhiwen frowned and pondered for a long time before saying, "I'm not sure, but we can give it a try."
Song Fei urged, "Be more specific."
He Zhiwen looked at Qi Yan and said in a deep voice, "I'm afraid we'll have to go to the sixth floor again."
Song Fei rolled her eyes. She didn't even need to care what He Zhiwen needed Qi Yan to go back to the sixth floor to look for. Just that one round trip was enough for Zou Le's comrade to take a walk back to the canteen and get a hot meal!
Just as I was about to complain, I noticed that Qi Yan had already tied something to the heating pipe by the window. Upon closer inspection, I realized it was the fire hose that had been cut back when he removed the battery!
Climbing down the fire hose is completely different from rushing down the stairs; the time difference is enormous, almost like using a magic door! He was only thinking about using the fire hose to descent to the ground, but he overlooked the fact that fire hoses can actually reach any floor. In short, Qi Yan, who was looking for batteries but ended up bringing back a fire hose, was incredibly farsighted!
"What are you looking at?" Qi Yan was amused by Song Fei's ever-changing expressions, which caught her eye out of the corner of her eye.
Song Fei shook her head with a sigh, and unusually frankly praised Qi Yan: "My boyfriend is a real talent!"
Qi Yan lowered his face, pretending to be seriously reinforcing the fire hose, his lips curving into a wide smile.
But Song Fei wasn't satisfied and said sullenly, "You should reciprocate, aren't you going to say something to praise me too?"
Qi Yan paused, then immediately looked up, staring intently into Song Fei's eyes: "My boyfriend..."
Song Fei: "Mhm."
Qi Yan: "...A person?"
A single word makes a world of difference, and what's most outrageous is that the "why" is a question!
In the dean's office on the tenth floor of the Luban Building, Qiao Siqi and Zhou Yilu had already shouted themselves hoarse. By the time the xiao music repeated the melody of "You Are My Little Apple" again, they were so breathless that they couldn't keep up. They couldn't love you any more.
"If we shout from behind the sound, it would be a miracle if we could even hear it." Zhou Yilu paced back and forth anxiously.
Qiao Siqi was also frustrated: "What should we do? We can't just go to another office across the corridor."
Zhou Yilu froze, slowly looking at Qiao Siqi.
Qiao Siqi swallowed hard: "Uh, I was just saying. After all, there are so many zombies in the corridor, how could the two of us possibly get through? Heh, heh..."
Zhou Yilu said with a black line: "Don't worry, I don't plan to rush to the other side."
Josh: "You're so wise!"
Zhou Yilu: "Let's go to the rooftop."
"..." What on earth made him so blind to choose to follow that idiot Zhou Yilu?!
The morning breeze carried the faint sound of a flute once again, this time with a different melody. Although it wasn't as familiar as "Little Apple," it still sounded familiar.
Zhou Yilu's eyes lit up: "We're on the same wavelength!"
Qiao Siqi also recognized the song and realized a truth in his despair: cowards are all cowards in their own way, but reckless people are all the same.
On the rooftop of Yixin Building, ignoring Zhao's impatience and Wu's pessimism, Feng Qibai remained silent for a few minutes before offering his second poem—"Rooftop".
Jay Chou and Landy Wen's classic duet, performed with the sound of the xiao (a type of Chinese flute), evokes a poignant sense of "Come to the rooftop and let's talk about breaking up."
This time, Feng Qibai played the tune slowly and deliberately, even slowing down the tempo in many places. While the chorus was still looping, Zhao He, whose eyes were the brightest, spotted the small black figure on the Lu Ban Tower.
At the same time, Qiao Siqi also spotted his comrade with sharp eyes: "Zhao He!"
Luban Building is one floor higher than Yixin Building, so the former has a wider and more comprehensive view of the latter. But the distance is still considerable. Zhou Yilu squinted and strained for a long time, and could only vaguely make out that there were three people on the roof of the other building. He couldn't make out their faces, let alone their height or build.
Hearing Qiao Siqi call out the name so accurately, he was quite surprised: "You can see his face clearly?!"
Joschi's answer was, "I can see his head clearly."
Zhou Yilu was completely convinced.
Once everyone was on the roof, there were fewer obstacles to communication due to the floor and location. Although it was still not very clear, repeating the message a few times was enough to catch the general idea.
"How did you get there—" Qiao Siqi and Zhou Yilu's memories were still stuck on how they sacrificed themselves to lure the enemy, and their comrades rushed straight to Gewu.
"What—" Wu Zhou shouted in response.
Zhao He's voice was completely gone. He suspected that his vocal cords were ruined after howling for several hours the night before last, but due to his exceptional talent, he had a brief resurgence yesterday. After a night of being exposed to the damp, chilly fire hydrant, his voice had now become completely hoarse.
Yixinlou couldn't hear Lubanlou clearly, but Lubanlou could hear Yixinlou. I wonder if it's because the wind was blowing from Yixinlou to Lubanlou.
"What are you doing there—" Joschi repeated.
Wu Zhou found it incredibly difficult to hear, wishing he could stretch his ears a hundred and eight thousand miles away.
Zhao He couldn't help but interject in a hoarse voice, "I heard everything clearly. He said, 'Why are you all cursing at you?'"
Feng Qibai and Wu Zhou both glanced at him sideways.
Zhao He scratched his head awkwardly: "Something seems off..."
After much difficulty, the two teams finally managed to communicate clearly, familiarize themselves with each other's situations, and grasp the current battle situation. Twenty minutes had passed by then. Just as they were staring at each other, wondering how to contact the main battlefield, a commotion came from the sky.
It sounds like an electric fan at first glance, but its power is too low to be cool enough.
The three of them looked up simultaneously and saw a miniature flying vehicle hovering above Yixin Building, propelled by a small propeller. You could call it a drone, but how small was it? If Shuke were to sit on it, it would be overweight and crash.
The person remotely controlling the aircraft clearly couldn't pinpoint its location, and the aircraft eventually landed on the edge of the rooftop; any more off and it would have been outside the building.
Zhao He immediately ran over and retrieved the aircraft, finding a note attached to it—
[Song Fei, Qi Yan, and He Zhiwen have successfully obtained the radio on the rooftop of Gewu Building. The virus in the heart of the motherland and along the coast is now completely under control, and partially under control in the three northeastern provinces. The entire country is expected to stabilize within the next month. Comrades, perseverance is victory! PS. Song Fei's personal question—Who played the flute?]
Who the hell would answer such a pointless question? The three men on the rooftop of Yixin Building had already shed tears when they saw the message from their motherland. Even the cold-hearted Feng Qibai had tears in his eyes. The three friends hugged each other tightly, their hearts filled with turbulent emotions, but they couldn't say a word. They could only hold each other tightly, venting all their emotions in their embrace.
The rooftop of Luban Building.
Josh: "What are they doing?"
Zhou Yilu: "I feel both excited and saddened."
Qiao Siqi: "Did something just fly over from the Gewu Building?"
Zhou Yilu: "Have you heard from Song Fei and the others?"
Qiao Siqi: "Having news is a good thing, we should be jumping for joy, why does this look so heavy?"
Zhou Yilu: "..."
Qiao Siqi: "Ah, could it be, could it be..."
When the opening theme song of the evening news started playing, Qiao Siqi was already crying with tears and snot streaming down his face, lost in his delusion of "losing his friends," and couldn't tell who was who.
Zhou Yilu, who had initially been infected by his pessimism, was miraculously invigorated the moment he heard the melody.
"They're alright! They're alright!"
Qiao Siqi sniffled, listened to the flute music for a few seconds in a daze, and suddenly hugged Zhou Yilu without warning, bursting into tears: "Yes, yes, it's okay, they're okay, the country is okay, everything's okay... It's so good... so good... Waaaaaah... Ahhhhh..."
Zhou Yilu thought he was already excited enough, but when he saw Qiao Siqi in his arms, who was crying and snotting his eyes, he suddenly felt that he was utterly cold-hearted.
They communicated between Yixin Building and Gewu Building using flying vehicles, while communicating with Luban Building involved music and shouting. Using multiple methods, the group finally devised a plan to endure another day, wait until nightfall, tie fire hoses to ropes, and vertically rappel from the rooftops to return home with their flying vehicles.
Unlike the uncertainty and confusion they felt when they arrived, the eight people who returned to their respective hiding places in the building felt an unprecedented sense of peace and determination.
Before they came, no one said it aloud, but everyone felt it was an impossible task. There were so many difficulties to overcome, so many procedures to navigate, and perhaps, a bit of luck too. But they set off without hesitation, even if it might be futile, even if they might never return.
Looking back now, what probably sustained them through the near-death experience was just that tiny bit of "hope."
Zhao He could roughly understand the sculpture.
Even in hell, one should still yearn for light and hold onto hope, for there will always be a glimmer of hope.