With three superpowers at his fingertips, he could dominate the 1970s.

Jiang Zhiyu watched as the performing arts troupe and the stationed team in the square began to maintain order.

Although their own faces were deathly pale, an order was an order, and training was training; a semblance of order managed to emerge from the chaos.

She didn't look back and ran towards the command post without turning her head.

In the courtyard of the command post, everyone was standing.

Zhuge Yunhe stood in the center of the courtyard, his back ramrod straight.

The old man had waited for this day, for who knows how long. When the time finally came, it finally arrived.

Seeing Jiang Zhiyu run in, Zhuge Yunhe nodded slightly, then cleared his throat, his voice steady as nails, each word striking into the ears of everyone present.

What's done is done. We have no time for grief.

He scanned the faces of everyone present—young soldiers and veterans from the bureau.

"Utilize all available resources and immediately engage in disaster relief. Proceed in an orderly manner according to the previous plan, and do not panic! Each team should set off, prioritizing rescue efforts before addressing potential hazards!"

His gaze shifted from the faces of the crowd to Jiang Zhiyu, pausing for a moment. "Jiang Zhiyu, you and Ji Buzhi will act alone."

He paused, lowered his voice so only she could hear him: "Remember to be careful." He looked into Jiang Zhiyu's eyes, his gaze deep.

Your safety is the most important thing.

That look held a deeper meaning. Jiang Zhiyu understood—it wasn't just simple concern. She nodded.

Zhuge Yunhe then looked at Ji Buzhi, his tone suddenly becoming stern: "Keep an eye on this girl, don't let her cause trouble." Ji Buzhi, unusually, didn't grin and nodded solemnly.

Jiang Zhiyu glanced at him—this was probably the first time she had seen Ji Buzhi so serious.

"Let's go," he said softly.

Once outside the command post, the world changed. Most of the houses along the roadside were collapsed. The roadside was filled with panicked passersby.

"There are plenty of people here, no shortage of rescue workers," Jiang Zhiyu said. "Let's head to a more secluded area."

Ji Buzhi nodded without saying anything more.

The two turned into a side alley. Jiang Zhiyu heard a sound as she entered the first alley.

It wasn't the sound of crying, it was the sound of knocking.

"Clang—clang—clang—"

Rhythmic sounds emanated from beneath the ruins.

Some people are still alive.

Jiang Zhiyu and Ji Buzhi quickened their pace, running towards the sound. A two-story building had collapsed; the precast concrete slab on the second floor had crashed down, creating a crack in the first floor. The knocking sound was coming from that crack.

"Is anyone there!" Ji Buzhi shouted from the ruins.

"Yes!" a weak voice came from below, "It's me and my daughter! She's only six years old—please, save her first!"

Ji Buzhi turned around and glanced at Jiang Zhiyu.

Jiang Zhiyu crouched down and used her mental power to scan the structure of the ruins. Precast concrete slabs, brick walls, broken wooden beams—supported by only one pillar that was still barely standing. If anything went wrong, the whole thing would collapse again, crushing the people below to death.

She couldn't just move it. She stood up, her gaze falling on a fallen utility pole beside her.

"Ji Buzhi, are you strong?"

"Not bad." Ji Buzhi rolled up his sleeves.

"Go drag that utility pole over here; we'll use it as a lever."

Without a word, Ji Buzhi ran over and single-handedly carried the utility pole, which was even thicker than himself. When he moved it, the veins on his arms were bulging. Jiang Zhiyu pointed out the location, and he positioned it at the fulcrum, inserting one end into the gap under the precast slab.

"I'll count to three, and you press down," Jiang Zhiyu said.

"good."

"one two three!"

Ji Buzhi strained his whole body, and one end of the utility pole suddenly jerked up, raising the precast slab by more than ten centimeters. The gap widened, revealing the dark space underneath.

Jiang Zhiyu lay on the ground and reached in—she touched a small, cold hand. She grabbed the hand and carefully pulled the person out.

A six-year-old girl was pulled out, covered in dirt and her mouth full of dust, but with no obvious external injuries. She was so frightened that she couldn't even cry; her big eyes were wide open, and she was trembling all over.

"Daughter—" The man's voice choked with emotion from beneath the rubble, "Is your daughter alright?"

"It's okay." Jiang Zhiyu put the little girl in a safe place, then turned around and pulled the man away.

The man was stuck, his legs pinned under the precast concrete slab, but the few centimeters he had just been lifted were enough to pull his upper body free. Jiang Zhiyu grabbed his arm and pulled hard—

"Ah—!" the man screamed, but he was pulled out.

His left leg was twisted at an abnormal angle, clearly broken. But he ignored the pain, crawled over and hugged his daughter tightly, burying his face in her hair, his shoulders shaking as he cried silently.

Jiang Zhiyu looked at him without saying a word.

This six-year-old child is lucky.

"Let's go." She stood up, her voice very soft.

They continued walking towards remote areas.

Every time Jiang Zhiyu passed a collapsed house, she would scan it with her mental power.

If someone was there, she marked their location and told Ji Buzhi to notify the rescue team following behind. If no one was there, she didn't waste a second and continued walking forward.

Time is life.

Ji followed behind her without saying a word, but his movements were incredibly swift and efficient. This kid, usually so carefree and irresponsible, was anything but hesitant when it came to serious matters.

As dawn broke, Jiang Zhiyu had lost count of how many alleys she had walked through and how many people she had saved.

Her hands were covered in blood and ash, her clothes were torn in several places, and her knee was scraped while she was rummaging through the rubble. Blood mixed with dirt stuck to her trouser leg, but she didn't care.

Ji was probably no better off than her.

The two leaned against a wall that hadn't collapsed yet, taking a brief breather.

Its daybreak.

In the distance, the sounds of whistles, horns, and machinery gradually increased. The main force of the army had arrived, and more people joined the rescue effort.

Jiang Zhiyu looked down at her hands.

The restorative power of the spiritual spring water continued to work, and the tiny wounds were already healing, but the dull pain in my heart could not be cured by the spiritual spring water.

"Host, your mental energy is excessively depleted. We suggest..."

"I know." Jiang Zhiyu interrupted Seventeen, took out a bottle of spiritual spring water from her spatial storage, then took it out of her backpack and gulped it down. Her spirits recovered somewhat, but her physical exhaustion was real.

But she can't stop.

Now that it's daylight, the real rescue efforts are just beginning. Supplies need to be distributed, the wounded need medical treatment, and the homeless need shelter.

There is still so much to do.

"Have you rested enough?" Ji Buzhi asked.

The bloodstains were still on his face, but his eyes were bright, showing no sign of backing down.

Jiang Zhiyu glanced at him and suddenly felt that this usually chatty boy was actually quite like what his master had said—whether it was "Troublemaker Ji" or "Half-Immortal Ji," he was someone who could really handle things when it mattered most.

"Let's go." She stood up and brushed the dust off her pants.

Where to?

Jiang Zhiyu gestured with her chin toward the distant ruins still shrouded in smoke and dust.

"The innermost part. The place no one else has reached yet."

Ji Buzhi grinned, a smile that looked more like a grimace, but he still followed in her footsteps.

Two figures, covered in soot, walked one after the other into the depths of the ruins.

Behind them, the sky was bright with daylight.