On the military plane heading back to Huaxia, Ye Fan, Lu Xiangxiang, Chi Qinyuan, and Qin Yi sat in a row.
Lu Xiangxiang looked at the vast jungle below, worriedly saying, "At this moment, there won't be any missiles rising up to shoot the plane down, will there?"
"There won't be." Ye Fan assured confidently.
"The air of freedom is wonderful. Those days imprisoned in the dungeon by the drug traffickers were unbearable—worse than death," Lu Xiangxiang reflected with lingering fear.
"Don't worry anymore, just rest easy." Ye Fan comforted.
"Alright, alright!" Lu Xiangxiang agreed softly and then leaned against Ye Fan's shoulder, closing her eyes, murmuring, "I'll borrow your shoulder for a bit, you won't mind, will you?"
Ye Fan remained silent.
Lu Xiangxiang soon fell asleep, seemingly having a nightmare, her eyelids twitching incessantly.
"Sir, which unit are you from?" Qin Yi asked curiously, particularly puzzled by Ye Fan's origins.
