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墨書 Inktalez
For the next two days, the entire base was shrouded in a strange atmosphere of "loose on the outside, tight on the inside."
On the surface, everything seemed normal. Soldiers patrolled and trained as usual, while logistics personnel carried out their tasks methodically. Yet, there was a palpable tension in the air, as if a storm was brewing.
I knew that Li Heng was secretly deploying measures to investigate the lurking "Nightingale," while also preparing for a possible attack the day after tomorrow. He had become busier, often returning to the barracks late at night and leaving early in the morning.
He still came to the Medical Tent to see me, but his visits were shorter, and the fatigue on his face was more pronounced. It felt as if we had reverted to that previous state of… businesslike formality. He no longer mentioned That Year, nor did he give me those heart-racing glances and gestures. It was as if the clumsy boy who once patted my head and vowed to protect me was merely a figment of my imagination.
This left me feeling… unsettled. Was it because the current situation was too tense for him to indulge in personal feelings? Or had he regretted it? Did he think that what he said before was too impulsive? I didn’t dare to ask, nor did I want to complicate things for him at this moment.
My leg injury was healing quickly under the careful attention of the Medical Soldier; I could already walk with a cane. The doctor said that in two days, I could leave with other injured personnel on the first batch of evacuation helicopters.
Leave…
That word stirred complex emotions within me. On one hand, I truly wanted to escape this place of turmoil and return to safety. But on the other hand… I felt a bit reluctant. Reluctant about what? Was it the thrilling experiences of interviews here? Or… a certain individual?
I forced myself not to think about Li Heng and began organizing the footage and interview notes from these past days. This embedded journalism assignment had been fraught with danger, even nearly costing me my life, but it had also yielded immense rewards. I had captured the reality of Peacekeeping Operations, documenting the bravery and sacrifices of soldiers while witnessing the scars that war had inflicted upon this land.
These materials were enough for me to write a report that was deep and powerful. Perhaps… it could even contend for this year’s journalism award? The thought reignited a small spark within me. This was your purpose for coming here, Xu Zhi Yi! Don’t forget your original intention!
While sorting through my materials, I came across that video of Li Heng rushing towards me, his eyes filled with urgency and fear. My heart raced involuntarily. This person… truly was my fate.
The night before Evacuation Day.
I finished packing my bags, ready to leave early tomorrow morning.
Old Wang came over to say goodbye; he would be staying here for a while longer.
"Zhi Yi, when you get back, make sure to write a good report. Don’t let our experiences go to waste," he said, patting my shoulder with a serious tone.
"Don’t worry, Brother Wang," I nodded in response.
"And…," Old Wang hesitated for a moment, as if unsure, "about Lieutenant Li… you…"
"We don’t have anything going on," I interrupted him, not wanting to delve into that topic.
He glanced at me and sighed, choosing not to say anything more.
After seeing Old Wang off, I sat alone in the tent, gazing at the pitch-black night sky outside.
I felt an emptiness inside.
Tomorrow I would be leaving.
I wondered… would Li Heng come to see me off?
What was he doing right now?
Was he still worried about the "Nightingale" and the attack tomorrow?
Just then, the tent flap was lifted.
Li Heng walked in.
He looked even more exhausted, with red veins visible in his eyes.
But the way he looked at me was bright.
"All packed?" he asked.
"Yeah," I nodded.
"What time is your flight tomorrow?"
"Eight in the morning."
He fell silent.
The tent was once again enveloped in that familiar, suffocating silence.
"Li Heng," I mustered the courage to speak up, "have you found the 'Nightingale'?"
He shook his head.
"Not yet."
"What about the evacuation tomorrow…" I felt a twinge of worry.
"Don’t worry," he said firmly, looking into my eyes with conviction, "I’ve made arrangements; nothing will go wrong."
His tone was resolute, carrying a convincing strength.
I believed him.
Even though I didn’t know the specifics of his plan, I trusted that he would handle it well.
"That’s good to hear," I sighed in relief.
"Zhi Yi," he suddenly called my name.
"Hmm?"
He stepped closer and pulled something out of his pocket, handing it to me.
It was a small trinket made from a bullet shell—shaped like a tiny whistle.
Engraved on it was a small letter "H."
H?
Is it an abbreviation for Heng?
"This..." I looked at him, puzzled.
"It's a talisman," he said, his voice somewhat low. "My sister, Yao Yao, made it. She said... it can keep you safe."
His sister... Lu Xingyao?
"You should keep it," he insisted, pressing the pendant into my hand. "Be careful on the road."
The warm metallic touch radiated from my palm.
This small Bullet Shell pendant seemed to carry his body heat.
My heart raced uncontrollably once again.
Is he... concerned about me?
In such a clumsy and awkward way?
I tightened my grip on the pendant and nodded.
"Thank you."
"Get some rest," he said, turning to leave.
"Li Heng!" I suddenly called out to him.
He turned back, looking at me.
"You..." I glanced at his bloodshot eyes and the scars on his arm that had yet to fade completely, feeling a pang of sadness in my heart. "You need to be careful too."
He paused for a moment, then a faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, gentle yet subtle.
"Yeah."
He looked at me deeply for a moment before turning away, lifting the curtain, and disappearing into the night.
I watched him leave, tightly clutching the Bullet Shell pendant in my hand.
My heart was a whirlwind of emotions.
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