Li Zan and Song Ran continued on their way.

The latter half of the journey had extremely poor road conditions. Many sections had been destroyed in the war, and their speed dropped sharply.

Under the high temperature, the journey was bumpy, and the scorching heat and fatigue tested their endurance.

After several hours of driving, scattered buildings gradually appeared in the distant wasteland. They were all sand-colored pillbox-like houses, their outer walls covered with damage, some with their roofs blown off. As they continued forward, the silhouette of a large city was outlined on the horizon, accompanied by the faint sound of cannons.

The two exchanged a look, knowing that Hapo City was just ahead.

Li Zan picked up a helmet, putting it on Song Ran's head; his hand also subconsciously tightened its grip on his gun as he said, "Head south."

"Mm."

The north and east of the city were ravaged by war, and cannon fire could be heard from far away. Every so often, they could see thick smoke rising from explosions on the horizon.

Song Ran dared not relax, carefully driving around to the south of the city. Along the way, large patches of newly dug graves gradually appeared, while some of the dead had no burial place at all, left exposed to the sun by the roadside.

Heading south, the sounds of cannon fire faded. But Song Ran couldn't relax.

They hadn't seen a living soul on the road, but as the car entered a street in the southern suburbs, figures appeared.

Song Ran felt a sense of unease, but her hand instinctively turned on her camera, placing it under the windshield.

Scavengers in ragged clothes and with disheveled hair wandered the street like ghosts. The old, men, women, children—all were filthy and destitute, either roaming aimlessly or curled up in corners.

As the car passed, their eyes slowly turned to follow it, but there was not a single spark of light in them.

An air of sorrow and horror pervaded the street.

Song Ran's heart ached. She gripped the steering wheel and slowly drove forward.

Ahead, by the side of the road, a woman was holding a child. Prolonged starvation had made her arms as thin as bamboo poles. The child in her arms, about three years old, had eyes bulging from hunger and was gasping for breath.

Song Ran suddenly slammed on the brakes and, without a word, grabbed a backpack from the back seat.

Li Zan immediately tried to stop her. "Wait!" But it was too late; she had already opened the door with the bag in her arms and rushed out of the car.

Song Ran took out a bag of bread and some milk from her bag and handed them to the woman.

The woman hugged her child tightly, her eyes full of vigilance.

Song Ran forced a smile, tore open the plastic bag, inserted a straw into the milk, and offered it to her again.

The woman hesitantly took them, giving the milk to the child in her arms. The child clutched it and began to drink. The woman tore off half the bread for the child and began to devour the rest herself.

Song Ran's heart went out to them, and she pulled out another bag of bread from her backpack.

"Reporter Song!" Li Zan got out of the car and called out to her.

Song Ran turned around to see that the scavengers from all around had gathered at some point. Men and women, young and old, all gaunt and haggard. Their naturally deep-set eyes were even more sunken from hunger. They stared at the food in Song Ran's hands, extending their bony hands as they slowly approached, just like zombies walking in a Hollywood blockbuster.

A chilling coldness rose in Song Ran's heart. She stood frozen in place, not daring to move, and called out in a low, pleading voice, "Officer Li..."

Li Zan quickly ran to her side in a few steps, grabbed her wrist, pulled her behind him, and turned to face the slowly approaching people.

But people were coming from all sides; no direction was safe. Fearing it would cause chaos, Li Zan hadn't brought his rifle, only the pistol tucked into the back of his waistband. He cautiously rested his hand on the butt of the gun, ready for anything.

Song Ran also entrusted her back to Li Zan, warily watching the crowd that was slowly closing in.

The first to approach was a middle-aged man, about her father's age. He pointed to the backpack in Song Ran's hands, a begging expression on his old face as he pleaded with her, his hands clasped together.

Song Ran timidly glanced at Li Zan, seeking his approval. Li Zan pursed his lips and nodded. Song Ran gave him a bag of bread. The man held the bread, bowed deeply, and slowly walked away.

And the crowd that had gathered formed a line behind him.

Li Zan released Song Ran's wrist. She immediately unzipped the backpack all the way, took out all the bread inside, and handed them out one by one. Those who received bread bowed deeply, and a young child who didn't know better had his head pushed down by his mother.

Song Ran couldn't bear their humble gratitude and didn't dare to look them in the eye.

But she didn't have much in her bag, only seven or eight bags. It was empty in an instant.

Li Zan said, "I have some compressed biscuits."

He quickly walked to the car. There were guns and ammunition inside, so he had locked it just in case. He unlocked it and rummaged through his army bag.

Song Ran also opened the trunk and found a bag of loose snacks she had taken from the base.

But it was a drop in the bucket.

As Song Ran held the biscuits and other snacks to distribute, her heart grew colder and colder. She didn't dare face the people waiting at the back of the line.

"Just a moment." She ran to the back seat to search, found a few melted chocolate bars, a bag of peanuts, a bag of candy, and preserved plums, and gave them all away.

Some people took the food and left. The remaining, more numerous hungry people still held onto hope, standing where they were, quietly watching them, their eyes filled with misery.

Li Zan's voice was very low; he could barely lift his head as he said, "I'm sorry, we don't have any more."

"Let me look again." Song Ran ran to the car again, searching from the luggage bag in the back seat to the backpack in the trunk, turning every bag and case inside out.

"There's nothing left. I'm sorry." She suddenly choked up, and when she spoke again, tears streamed down, large drops falling. She kept her head down, shaking it. "I'm sorry, there's really nothing left. I'm sorry."

Heaven knew how much she wished all the clothes in her bags would turn into bread at that moment. But there was nothing left; she had even checked the compartments of her bags. If only she had just one more bag of chips.

"I'm sorry, there's really nothing left." She didn't dare look at them, just kept her head down, stubbornly rummaging through her bags as tears streamed down her face.

The scavengers knew there was no hope left and silently dragged their weak legs as they slowly walked away.

Song Ran didn't look at them, still searching in her bag as if she were a wind-up toy that couldn't stop.

"Stop looking." Li Zan walked over and pulled her away from the trunk. Her head was bowed low, and she didn't make a sound. He then pulled her to the front of the car and pushed her into the passenger seat.

Li Zan returned to the trunk, his own eyes also red. He lowered his head and wiped his nose hard, then put the bags back inside, closed the lid, and got into the driver's seat.

He sat for half a minute, then turned his head to look. Song Ran had stopped crying, her expression was blank as she stared out the car window.

Li Zan silently started the car.

After driving a few streets, Song Ran suddenly asked, "Do you remember the day of the explosion in Galuo City?"

Li Zan said, "I remember."

"Back then in the hospital, you asked me why I was crying." Song Ran said, "It was because I felt a lot of pain."

Li Zan was very quiet, waiting for her to continue.

"I saw a girl with a broken arm, the bone was exposed, and I felt as if my own arm had broken in the same place, my bones felt cold. I saw someone with a hole blown in their chest, and I felt a twisting pain in my own chest, like the air was leaking out. Do you understand that feeling?"

"I understand," Li Zan said. "What I don't understand is... why some people don't feel pain."

...

The urban planning in Hapo City was quite good; the streets were wide and flat, the architecture grand and magnificent. It was just that some buildings were damaged, and debris like cement and sand littered the sidewalks.

There were roadblocks everywhere. Li Zan had to take many detours, spending a great deal of effort to finally reach their destination.

Song Ran's office and residence were in a hotel in the center of Hapo City. It was originally a four-star hotel belonging to an international chain. After the war broke out, the hotel was sold to a local at a low price. The new owner didn't operate it; the staff was dismissed, and valuables, including the carpets, were sold off. The rooms were rented out to foreign journalists and various non-governmental organizations.

Li Zan parked the car in the hotel's internal parking lot and unloaded the motorcycle from the roof rack.

Song Ran took her bags, big and small, from the trunk. She didn't have many personal belongings, but she had a lot of equipment.

Li Zan remembered something and suddenly asked, "You just gave all your food away. What are you going to eat?"

Song Ran said, "There's someone in charge of meals here."

"That's good."

Li Zan helped Song Ran carry her things upstairs. When they registered in the lobby, he scanned their surroundings and felt a bit more at ease seeing a few armed militiamen patrolling the first floor.

Walking into the stairwell, Song Ran, who had been listless the whole way, had her eyes light up slightly. "Is this an elevator?"

The hotel had five floors at most, and only one old-fashioned elevator, likely a product of the last century—an outer collapsible iron gate that slid sideways, and inside, a pale yellow wooden box for the elevator car.

Song Ran craned her neck curiously to look inside, seeing several thick cables hanging up and down outside the box through the gate. She said, "This is the first time I've seen an elevator like this."

"This thing is probably older than the two of us combined." Li Zan said, sliding the outer iron gate fully open. Halfway through, he remembered something and looked back at her. "Do you want to take a picture?"

Song Ran hesitated for a moment. "...Maybe not."

Li Zan gave a slight smile. "I'm not in a hurry."

"Then I'll take one." Song Ran smiled shyly, pursing her lips, and took her camera out of her bag. Just as she turned it on,

"Oh no, I forgot to take a picture of the olive trees," she said, frustrated.