097 Given Artificial Respiration

Liu Fen seemed oddly enthusiastic about her son joining the military.
In truth, anyone who has ever served knows that enlisting is not an easy thing, and the chances of getting a place in the forces are limited.
Liu Fen’s real intention was to keep her son, Changjiang, close, to keep him within her sight—but life goes on, and she cannot control everything. If he could get into the army, that would be ideal.
She was all for it, of course.

But Liu Fen did not realize this was just an excuse Li Changjiang used to leave.
Join the army?
Enlist?
A soldier is not merely someone with a rifle, not just a person who wears a smart military uniform and calls himself a soldier.
A true soldier must be worthy of the red heart above him, worthy of the flag he swore to, worthy of the land under his feet. Li Changjiang did not think he possessed such lofty soldierly qualities, so enlisting felt far beyond him.

Still, he had to keep up the performance.

“Really, Mom, the men from the unit are outside. Why don’t I call them in so you can ask them?”

“You’re talking nonsense. Why bring strangers all this way and create trouble? Go get your father, pack up, and go with him to check. If you really can enlist, at least I’ll have peace of mind.”

Liu Fen’s attitude turned a full 180 degrees at once.

Li Changjiang was a little stunned. Still, he thought, what sort of sense does it make to have his father accompanying him? There are escorts for exam prep, and there are roommates to share a place, but companions for enlisting? Absurd. Anyone would laugh themselves silly at that.

“Mom, what kind of thing is it if Dad goes with me? If I turned up at a unit with him, I’d be mocked to death. If they’re letting people in who need a chaperone, would they even take me?”

Liu Fen thought the same thing, so she tightened her lips and stayed quiet. Li Changjiang then said a few smooth words to placate her, lowered himself in deference, and bolted out immediately.
Only after he got into the vehicle did Liu Fen begin to realize she had been played.

“Fine, let him go. You can keep him in eye range for a day, keep him for a year—you can’t keep him all his life.”
Her spirits dropped at once.

Though she wasn’t highly educated, she could see it clearly: her son had changed since this time he came back. A bird must grow up one day. If it’s meant to fly, let it fly—there is enough vast sky somewhere for it to run wild.

The desert was desolate and magnificent.
Before them, the Gobi seemed to stretch without end. Endless yellow sand rose in drifting waves, whipped by the wind and slapping the glass in sharp bursts, sounding like a staccato burst of gunfire.
Drowsiness hung over him.
When he opened his eyes again, his head felt heavy.

It had, without doubt, been a long, tiring trip. The two soldiers had stayed uncharacteristically silent all along until Li Changjiang woke.

“Drink some water. We’ll be there soon.”

“Mm, thank you.”
He took the bottle from the soldier, twisted off the cap, and drank it all at once. It was nearly July; deep in the far northwest desert the temperature was frighteningly high. Through the windshield, the distant road shimmered and seemed to burn. In that environment, dehydration came quickly.
Vehicles were scarce, and the scenery along the way was monotonous to the point of bleakness.

“You’re both special-operations troops, right?”

The soldier beside him was suddenly taken aback.

They had already been surprised when ordered to go to Nanjiang and bring back Li Changjiang. They were indeed special-operations soldiers, and they had completed no fewer than a hundred missions, yet this one made absolutely no sense to them.
The reason was simple.

The day they set out had been the opening of the Army’s Special Operations Forces Champion Finals, and today was the day it ended. In taking this assignment they would miss the finals, which was, for all of them, a bit of a regret.

Still, soldiers do their duty by carrying out orders, so the two followed through despite their grumbling.
That only made their curiosity about Li Changjiang—a civilian so ordinary that the unit commander had sent them across such distances to fetch him—grow all the stronger.

“Nothing to report.”
The cold answer made Li Changjiang almost laugh.

This was exactly the kind of thing you only see on television dramas.

Seeing they would not say anything more, he turned back to the window. Through the glass, faint lines of green began to appear in his field of vision: wild seabuckthorn bushes, clustered together, stubbornly enduring the sandstorms. His thoughts drifted outward, farther and farther.

Bang.
Rat-a-tat-tat.

“Elisa! Elisa!”
“You go! Don’t worry about me!”
“Damn it, I’ll help you!”
“------”

Then—

Aaaah!
All of a sudden he screamed.

In the quiet cabin, the cry ripped out of him, full of fear, urgency, and anger. His breathing came in sharp bursts, huge beads of sweat formed on his forehead, and his face went deathly pale.

Wheeeze, wheeze!
Ssss-szzzz!
A sharp, piercing screech of brakes tore into his ears. The vehicle lurched violently, shuddering, then came to rest at a safe point on the roadside. The driver opened the door without a word. He and the soldier in the backseat hauled Li Changjiang out and laid him flat on the road edge, hot enough to feel like it was almost burning.

“Damn it! What’s wrong with him?”

“No idea—maybe heatstroke.”

“Hurry, get water. If something happens, we’ll be in real trouble!”

They handed him water and poured it in, but he did not swallow a thing. He kept gagging and vomiting it out. His face became even paler, and the heat in his body was frightening.

Both men had served in the special forces, so they knew some basic emergency measures. They quickly removed his upper clothing, pressed hard on his chest, and then—

Resuscitation by breath.

Still nothing.

“What do we do? This is bad—damn it!”

“Let me do it!”

Li Changjiang felt as if something had swallowed his consciousness all at once. Everything went dark, and he was back in Libya—Benghazi.
Gunfire and the huge crack of RPG blasts filled his ears, along with Elisa’s and the Russian’s shouts. He struggled to pull himself out, but he couldn’t stop himself from sinking into that state. Until suddenly his mouth seemed blocked, then: inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

His chest felt as though it had opened; fresh air surged in and immediately scattered that strange cloud of consciousness, and his awareness snapped back all at once.

But when he opened his eyes, he was stunned.

Shit!
Is this a gay scene?!

(I'm exhausted today, but Rice promised she would still do it, and she’ll keep writing and keep updating. No matter where you found *Hunt the Planet*, please give one subscription and one monthly ticket. So that when Rice is tired, she knows she isn’t alone—there are many people still waiting for her!)