Author's POV:
The night erupted into a symphony of destruction as Fengrui's truck-mounted cannon fired, a blinding flash searing across the ravaged battlefield. The shell screamed toward Yang Wei's stretcher, where Huang Yanyan—bloodied, battered, and defiant—threw herself over her father, a human shield of raw courage. Haoyu lunged too, his injured leg buckling, but his pipe swung up instinctively, as if sheer will could deflect the blast. Yue's scream pierced the air, her wrench long lost, hands clawing at the dirt to reach her family. Time seemed to slow, the shell's arc a deadly promise—until a streak of fire from the west intercepted it mid-flight.
