Eleven o'clock at night.
The lights-out bell rang, the sound echoing and reverberating throughout the vast military base, intertwining with the wind, sporadically, like being torn into fragments.
Mo Shangjun stood in the wind, the cold wind hitting her face, the day-night temperature difference making the night wind ice-cold, slicing through her body like sharp blades. She stood firmly, her limbs feeling like they could tear apart at any moment, swept up by the fierce wind.
Standing with her were Ding Jing, Su Bei, and You Nianyu.
In front of them was Ya Tianxing.
His figure stood unwavering, the wind tearing around him, the night enveloping him, yet his presence remained unaffected.
Not far away, street lights glowed with a dim, yellow light, faintly outlining the contours.
