The Overlord Flower's Guide to Intercepting a Woman's Wife's Death and the Male Lead&

Chapter 452 3:42 AM, the Earth Roars

July 16th.

Inside the temporary command post, Zhao Jianjun spoke in a low voice.

"Political Commissar, the man is gone."

Upon hearing this, Zhou Bingheng paused in his actions.

"The day shift guard found him during rounds. He was lying on the floor, his lips were purple, and he couldn't be woken up no matter what he did. There was an empty medicine bottle on the table; he had taken all the sleeping pills."

"The military district doctor signed the death certificate, which stated that it was a suicide by overdose of medication."

Zhou Bingheng didn't even raise his head.

Old Gong acted swiftly and cleanly, eliminating witnesses thoroughly.

Zhou Bingheng didn't care whether Pan Dehai swallowed the medicine himself or was forced to swallow it.

If the leads are lost, so be it; it has no impact on the overall situation at present.

Saving one more life is a million times more important than investigating the cause of death of an abandoned child.

The evacuation force sped along on wheels.

On July 20, the number of people relocated exceeded 800,000.

July 23, 950,000.

Tangshi First Hospital and Second Hospital together have more than 300 critically ill patients who are unable to move on their own.

This is the toughest challenge in the evacuation operation.

Su Xingmian stood in the open space in front of the outpatient building, holding a stack of cards cut from cardboard in her hand.

She went to each stretcher bed and tied the card to the iron railing at the foot of the bed with hemp rope.

"Bed 15, closed chest drainage. The patient must not be jostled during transport. Keep spare medication in the left pocket."

"Bed 27, high-level paraplegia, pay close attention to urination, move the patient horizontally and lift the gurney."

The convoy formed a long line and drove ten kilometers from the hospital.

Su Xingmian was sitting in the passenger seat of the first military truck when a frantic shout suddenly came from the walkie-talkie.

"Car number two calling. The iron lung has lost power, the generator is malfunctioning, and a six-year-old child with meningitis is in hypoxic shock."

Su Xingmian ripped the walkie-talkie off.

"Pull over and keep your airway clear, I'll be right there!"

As soon as the jeep braked, she jumped out with her first-aid kit and ran towards the back.

Inside the carriage, the massive iron lungs of the train had stopped working, emitting a dull, lifeless hum.

The six-year-old boy's face turned purple, and his chest stopped rising and falling completely.

The accompanying doctor was so anxious that his hands were trembling.

"The power is out, and the manual breathing bag isn't pressing hard enough to get air in."

Su Xingmian stepped onto the carriage, pulled open the boy's collar, picked up three silver needles between her fingertips, and inserted them into the three major acupoints: Xinshu, Geshu, and Tiantu.

Life forcefully poured in through the needle tip.

She placed her hands on the boy's chest, and, in conjunction with acupuncture stimulation of the diaphragm, began to perform standard manual breathing.

"Go and activate the generator truck. Quickly!"

It took a full thirty-five minutes for the backup generator to arrive and the line to be reconnected.

The iron lungs began to hum regularly again.

The boy's purple cheeks slowly faded, his chest began to rise and fall again with the help of the machine, and a faint breath escaped his throat.

Su Xingmian quickly removed the needles and closed the medicine box.

"Let's go, let's head to the next resettlement site."

The people have been evacuated, but the large industrial equipment that cannot be moved or moved has become a problem.

July 25th. In front of Tangshan Iron and Steel Group's No. 3 blast furnace.

Two factory technicians were so anxious, they were jumping up and down with worry, holding the blueprints.

"Political Commissar Zhou, the furnace has been shut down, but this thing that's dozens of meters tall will definitely collapse if it gets shaken. Once it collapses, it'll be nothing but scrap metal, and most of the factory's assets will be stuck in our hands."

Zhou Bingheng stood under the furnace, his mental system operating at full capacity.

Various mechanical models and load-bearing data were flashing wildly on my retina.

Ten seconds later, he took the blueprints and pen from the technician and quickly drew three support lines on them.

"Add a set of channel steel diagonal bracing to the southeast corner, add two layers of flanges to reinforce the main load-bearing column on the west side, and replace all the anchor bolts of the base with heavy-duty ones overnight."

Zhou Bingheng slapped the blueprints back onto the technician's chest.

"Let's proceed with this plan. With added mechanical support, we can reduce the equipment damage rate from the estimated 85% to below 40%. This is the foundation of Tang City's reconstruction; we can't let it all be destroyed."

After receiving the blueprints, emergency repair and reinforcement work was launched overnight for 97 core heavy equipment sites in the factory and mine.

5 PM, July 27th. Victory Lane, East of the city.

The last group of 231 households lined up to board the military trucks.

The carriage was so crowded that there was nowhere to put your feet.

Bedding rolls, pots and pans were piled together, someone was hugging a big rooster tightly in their arms, and a yellow dog was tied to someone's feet.

After checking the list one last time, Zhao Jianjun walked to the back of the vehicle and pounded his fist heavily on the metal panel.

He shouted into the driver's seat.

"Walk!"

With engines roaring, the convoy drove out of the alleyway in a grand procession.

Zhao Jianjun stood still, turned around and looked at Victory Lane in front of him.

The once crowded and bustling streets were completely deserted.

The streetlights turned on right on time, illuminating the deserted asphalt road.

There was no clanging of bicycles as people left work, no opera broadcasts on the radio, and not even a dog barking.

It's so clean it's unreal.

This heavy industrial city with a population of one million has been drained of its vitality, turning into a massive steel shell.

7 PM. The highest observation point on Phoenix Mountain outside the city.

The temporary command post was moved to the mountaintop.

Lei Lifeng gripped the summary report in his hand, the veins on the back of his hand bulging, his voice trembling.

"Political Commissar Zhou, the final data is in."

"The permanent residents of Tang City, numbering 1,064,000, have all completed their relocation and resettlement."

"Ninety-seven mechanical reinforcements were completed for immovable heavy industrial equipment."

"Three hundred and seventeen critically ill patients from two top-tier hospitals were transferred without any accidents."

He paused, then almost shouted it out.

"There were zero deaths throughout the entire evacuation."

This was the largest and shortest-lasting urban migration of millions of people in peacetime history.

There was no cheering in the command post.

After Lei Lifeng finished reporting the last set of numbers, the entire tent became so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

No matter how impressive the interim data looks, no one dares to laugh until the big test comes.

It's 11 p.m.

The wind picked up, carrying a strong, earthy smell.

Zhao Jianjun stood behind Zhou Bingheng.

The night wind blowing from the mountaintop sent a shiver down his spine.

His uniform back was already soaked with sweat, sticking to his skin and feeling cold.

He frantically chanted in his mind, "It must come, it must shake us."

I pray that God will show His power and shake us.

If there is no earthquake, the political commissar will be completely ruined.

Although this idea is very bad.

The city was left empty, and thirty-six state-owned enterprises ceased operations.

Every day, enormous amounts of military supplies are being consumed...

If the warning fails, those people in the capital will be able to eat him alive first thing tomorrow morning.

Zhou Bingheng stood on the edge of the cliff, his back ramrod straight, silently gazing at the dark outline of Tang City in the distance.

One o'clock in the morning.

All sounds are silent.

Two o'clock in the morning.

The sky felt so heavy it almost pressed down on people's heads.

Three o'clock in the morning.

Su Xingmian was standing beside Zhou Bingheng when suddenly, a slight tingling sensation ran through the soles of her feet.

"Flower Words" perception is fully activated.

Within a radius of several miles, the roots of thousands of poplar trees in the direction of the resettlement site are frantically contracting deep in the soil, desperately clinging to the last rock.

The terrifying underground stress is cruelly tearing apart the last bedrock.

Su Xingmian grabbed Zhou Bingheng's hand with her backhand.

"They're here."

Zhou Bingheng gripped her hand tightly in return.

He slowly raised his left wrist and glanced at his watch.

Under night vision, the markings on the dial are as clear as in daylight.

3:39.

The second hand is moving very slowly.

Three forty.

3:41.

Zhou Bingheng felt his heart stop beating.

The only sound on Phoenix Mountain was the rustling of the wind through the leaves.