In the blink of an eye, large raindrops began to fall.
Before long, the wind whipped sand and stones into a frenzy, and the heavy downpour transformed the dirt road into a winding river of mud.
The soldier behind the wheel noticed this and his expression grew serious. He immediately accelerated.
This was clearly a sign that a typhoon was approaching.
He had to reach the farm as quickly as possible.
The speeding car began to bounce violently.
Even Wen Qiao was jostled back and forth, let alone the young intellectuals in the back.
Each of them felt like they were riding a roller coaster. Without the roof, they would have been thrown out completely.
She felt incredibly grateful to the stern-faced soldier. Once she settled down, she would make sure to thank him properly.
After an uncertain amount of time, they finally arrived at the farm.
Outside, the wind and rain raged as the young intellectuals scrambled to get out of the vehicle.
Inside the farm, the torrential rain had thrown everything into chaos.
People were running in every direction.
The pigs had broken through their pens, darting wildly through the rain while the young intellectuals chased them in a frantic, chaotic scramble—a human-versus-pig chase had begun.
The thatched roof of the chicken coop had also been blown away, sending hundreds of chickens sliding through the muddy water, some even rolling into the drainage ditches.
The young intellectuals ran through the rain, bending low as they tried to corral the soaked chickens.
The wind ripped openings in the roofs, letting water pour inside.
Shrill whistles pierced the storm.
“The newly arrived young intellectuals, follow me! The granary at the foot of the mountain has collapsed—hurry and help save the grain bags!”
Director Yu Jianjun shouted through a megaphone.
The young intellectuals, still dazed from the rough ride in the car and drenched by the sudden downpour, stood in stunned confusion.
Wen Qiao was the first to respond, grabbing a suitcase and rushing forward.
The male lead was nearby, and this was a perfect opportunity.
If she didn’t act now, when would she?
Yu Jianjun saw Wen Qiao’s bright face, delicate figure, and determined expression, and paused for a moment.
Though her body was weak, her resolve was firm.
What a fine young intellectual!
He continued shouting:
“Don’t just stand there! The others at the back, hurry up and follow!”
The typhoon had arrived too suddenly; the farm had received no prior warning.
It had caught them completely off guard.
With a wave of his hand, Yu Jianjun led a few veteran young intellectuals from the farm down to the foot of the mountain.
The rain poured in torrents, and the sky darkened completely.
Taking advantage of the dim visibility, Wen Qiao quickly stored her suitcase in her space.
She trudged through the heavy rain, carefully scanning for the male lead’s figure.
She also tried to recall the details of the story.
Being rescued by the young intellectuals of Baiyunshan Farm meant that the place where the male lead had been injured and rendered unconscious wasn’t far from here.
He might even be nearby.
She definitely couldn’t carry a grain bag, so she ignored that commotion.
The tarp covering the grain bags was blown away by the wind.
Pretending to pick it up, Wen Qiao used the opportunity to dash to the other side against the gusts.
The sky seemed torn open, pouring rain relentlessly.
This rain was even heavier than the day Yiping went to her father asking for money.
The muddy roads were littered with stones, broken branches, and even whole uprooted trees.
The wind drove rain into Wen Qiao’s face, stinging painfully and making it impossible to open her eyes.
Her steps were arduous. She wasn’t sure whether the ground was shaking or her legs were trembling.
It was the first time she had witnessed the power of a typhoon.
Gritting her teeth, Wen Qiao told herself not to give up.
She had to save the male lead herself.
She couldn’t let anyone else beat her to it.
But where exactly was he? She wished he would show up.
Continuing like this, she felt she might collapse.
Perhaps heaven had heard her prayers, because she finally caught sight of a faint figure.
The gusts of wind hit like an invisible wall, making her stagger, almost knocking her down.
She steadied herself, stepping carefully through the mud.
A man in military uniform lay unconscious on the ground.
A faint red color stained the puddles around him.
A thick tree trunk pressed firmly against his body.
Lightning split the gray sky, and in that brief, ghostly flash, the face lying in the mud was illuminated.
Wen Qiao’s breath caught.
The man looked very young, barely in his early twenties.
His eyebrows slanted toward his temples, like ink-brushed mountain contours.
Long, thick eyelashes were dotted with water droplets.
His nose was high and straight, with rain sliding down the tip.
His lips were colorless, yet retained a graceful bow shape, corners slightly downturned, showing a resolute maturity beyond his age.
His jawline was sharp as if carved by a knife, with no unnecessary curves.
Every angle exuded a cold, refined beauty.
His entire face seemed as if sculpted by Nüwa herself—flawlessly perfect.
Broad shoulders, narrow waist, long, straight legs.
Even unconscious, he radiated a dignified, commanding presence.
His innate nobility and battlefield-hardened resolve intertwined.
Wen Qiao only needed one glance.
Her judgment was instant.
This was undoubtedly the male lead.
His appearance and aura matched her aesthetic perfectly.
Originally, she had intended to rescue him so that he would be grateful to her.
Knowing his loyal and sentimental nature, such a debt would ensure he would grant her any request.
She had never considered making him fall at her feet.
Her main goal was to find a powerful ally and coast through life.
And, of course, to annoy Shen Yueru.
But now, perhaps the plan could be adjusted.
Wen Qiao quickly patted the man’s face.
“Comrade, wake up! Wake up!”
She called at his ear for a long while, but he showed no sign of waking.
His face grew paler, and only the slight rise and fall of his chest proved he was still alive.
He had probably lost too much blood and fallen into a deep coma.
Wen Qiao bent down and looked at the tree trunk pressing on him, situated at the middle of his thighs.
A broken branch stabbed into his flesh like a fang, mixing blood with rainwater, creating a shocking pale-red stream across the mud.
She exerted all her strength, but the thick tree trunk wouldn’t budge.
Wen Qiao prepared to get up and call for help.
She couldn’t move the tree trunk alone, and even if she could, her frail body wouldn’t be able to drag him.
Her stamina was already depleted, and after struggling, she still couldn’t stand.
Not far ahead, a boulder suddenly rolled down the mountainside.
As if receiving some signal, more rocks tumbled down one after another, mixed with mud.
Seeing this, Wen Qiao quickly pulled out a cup of spiritual spring water from her space and gulped it down.
Her drained energy was instantly restored; she was fully revived.
Without hesitation, she pulled both the man and the tree trunk into her space.
Then she turned and ran.
She summoned the strength of her former 800-meter fitness test and sprinted forward with all her might.
After some unknown distance, the rumbling behind her faded.
Only then did Wen Qiao slow her pace.
Before her, a dilapidated small house appeared.
She beamed with joy and ran inside.
Ignoring the dirt on the floor, she slid down and sat, panting heavily.
That had been incredibly close—if she had run even slightly slower, she might have been buried alive in the mudslide.
After a while, Wen Qiao wiped the rain from her face with her hand and began inspecting the small house.