UAAG CH1

New York, LaGuardia Airport.

“Boom—”

Heat waves rolled, the air thick and viscous. The massive roar of engines sounded like a sonic boom, tearing open the smooth, pristine blue sky. A blue and white airplane swooped down from the air, taxiing forward for over two thousand meters before slowly stabilizing. Airport ground crew and tow trucks swarmed forward, everyone coated in a layer of sticky sweat, guiding this newly landed aircraft toward the terminal.

Inside the terminal building, separated from the runway by a kilometer, a dozen children pressed against the tall, clear floor-to-ceiling windows. Their dark, bright eyes burst with fervent light, their gazes fixed anxiously on the plane closest to the terminal, chattering incessantly.

“That’s the plane I took when I came here—”

“It’s so big!”

“Mom, are we going on that one? That really big plane!”

Fu Cheng dragged his suitcase through the excited shouts of the children.

Today was the Independence Day holiday. Tourists visiting New York were everywhere, and the foot traffic at the airport was obviously much heavier than usual.

As boarding time approached, he quickened his pace, heading toward Gate 67.

“Evan!”

The shout was immediately drowned out by the noise of the airport crowd.

“Evan Fu!”

Leather shoes made a barely audible friction sound against the marble floor. Fu Cheng turned his head and saw a blond man walking toward him.

The man’s medium-length blond hair was slicked back with a thick layer of gel, clinging tight to his scalp and aptly revealing its owner’s less-than-perfect hairline. He strode up to Fu Cheng, and just as he was about to introduce himself, he saw the young man’s lips curve up. Like a spring breeze brushing the face, the young man extended his hand.

“Richard. We met in Newark.”

“So you do remember me.” Richard revealed a mouthful of white teeth as he reached out to shake Fu Cheng’s hand. “Haven’t seen you for a few months. Why are you here? LaGuardia rarely has international flights. Are you heading to a specific city?”

The complexion of Chinese people is generally not as pale as Westerners, but as the light fell on his face—white as porcelain—it outlined a clear, smooth jawline that made Richard silently praise him in his heart.

“Boston.”

The clear, lucid voice pulled him back to reality. Richard snapped out of it: “Boston? Huh, why are you going through the terminal instead of just finding a crew to catch a ride with? Oh, I remember now. You Chinese people never like to use the back door, even for something as common as this. You didn’t go through the VIP channel… did you not get a business class ticket?”

Fu Cheng looked helpless: “It’s the Independence Day holiday. You know how it is; getting an economy ticket was already good enough. Boarding is in forty minutes.”

Richard looked up at the giant LED screen hanging from the airport ceiling and found the flight information: “American Airlines Flight 2186? Let me take you to the crew lounge. I’ll say hello, and you can board with the crew.”

“I couldn’t possibly—”

Richard smiled. Before he could speak, the black-haired young man’s hand on his suitcase twitched. His lean wrist turned at an imperceptible angle, and his posture shifted, making it seem as if he had been following behind Richard from the very beginning.

“Where is the lounge?”

Richard was stunned for a moment, then laughed.

“Follow me.”

The crew lounge wasn’t far from the boarding gate. Fu Cheng pulled his suitcase and followed Richard to the door.

A long, narrow, quiet corridor separated the lounge from the main airport hall. Halfway down, the noise faded, leaving only the echo of footsteps. A remarkably dressed flight attendant stood before the automatic glass doors of the lounge—blonde hair, blue eyes, bright red lips—bowing and smiling at those coming and going.

Richard walked over: “This is a friend of mine, a colleague. Would it be convenient to arrange for him to enter the lounge and board with the crew?”

Unexpectedly, the flight attendant looked surprised. She glanced at Fu Cheng and whispered to Richard, “Captain, there’s a bit of a problem.”

The flight attendant’s nervous expression alerted Richard to something unusual. He turned to Fu Cheng and said, “Evan, let me ask what happened first.” He walked aside with the flight attendant and exchanged a few quiet words. Richard returned quickly, sighing deeply with apology: “I’m sorry, my friend. A special guest has arrived in the lounge. Several executives are inside, along with a few captains. I’m afraid I have to go in and pay my respects as well. I can’t take you to board. I really don’t know what to say.”

Fu Cheng felt disappointed but shook his head and said, “Thanks for the kindness, Richard.”

Richard watched the young man pull his suitcase and disappear at the end of the corridor.

The automatic glass doors of the lounge slid open to both sides. Richard strode inside. Elegant symphonic music flowed slowly from high-end speakers, causing him to involuntarily slow his pace. As he passed the sofa seats by the window, executives in suits and captains in uniform were surrounding a seat in the corner, leaving only a sliver of a gap.

Behind that gap lay the busy runway of LaGuardia Airport. Richard vaguely saw a flash of black hair appearing and disappearing within that sliver of space. The person seemed to be wearing a white Bluetooth earpiece, forming a sharp contrast with the runway behind them, which was bleached white by the blazing sun.

Fine, let’s see just who this special guest is.

There were particularly many passengers traveling from New York to Boston. Fu Cheng stood at the very back of the economy line. Looking forward, he could only see a mass of dark heads.

After boarding, he discovered that the person sitting next to him was a girl who looked about ten years old.

This was quite rare; usually, parents would sit with their children. If they hadn’t bought adjacent seats, Fu Cheng would have been happy to switch. Soon, he understood the reason. A mother was traveling to New York with two children. She had arranged for the five-year-old boy to sit next to her, leaving the ten-year-old girl to sit across the aisle.

American Airlines Flight 2186 used an ERJ-190 aircraft. Economy class was arranged with four seats per row, two on each side.

At the mother’s request, Fu Cheng agreed to help look after the little girl.

Did he look like the kind of person who could take care of children?

A child’s interest in airplanes didn’t diminish because they had flown before or flown several times; they were always tireless in their fascination.

Even after takeoff, the girl hadn’t quieted down, her eyes wide as she stared at the sky and earth outside the window.

Fu Cheng suddenly spoke: “Do you see that river?”

The girl nodded excitedly: “That’s the Hudson River!”

Fu Cheng’s voice was elegant and gentle, like the Pied Piper luring children into the marsh with his colorful clothes. As he switched the LED screen in front of the girl to the music channel, he picked up the headphones for her. “I think this piece is very suitable for right now.”

The girl looked at the words on the screen: “This is ‘The Blue Danube,’ but that’s the Hudson River!”

Fu Cheng looked at her earnestly: “This plane will take you to the beautiful Blue Danube.”

The girl gazed into the young man’s eyes, slightly red from staying up all night. Just then, Fu Cheng gently tucked the headphones into her ears. The cold temperature of his fingertips chilled her skin, but her face flushed hot. That natural shyness toward a good-looking member of the opposite sex didn’t change with age. Her heart beat a little faster; the girl averted her gaze, mumbled a nod, and obediently listened to the music without speaking further.

Having stayed up all night crossing the Pacific Ocean to fly from China to the US, he was almost exhausted.

Once the girl quieted down, Fu Cheng closed his eyes and fell into a groggy sleep.

His consciousness sank, deeper and deeper…

Countless silhouettes flickered before his eyes. The click of cameras, the flashbulbs stinging his eyeballs. That person’s voice cut through the microphone, pouring out of the speakers. All surrounding sounds vanished in an instant. It was as if he had fallen into an ice cellar. His former obsession and longing suddenly became the coldest block of ice deep within a polar glacier. He had burned all his passion to chase it, only to be assimilated into the same indifference.

Like a judge pronouncing a death sentence, that voice was so heartless that not a single ripple of emotion could be heard.

“I announce that for the Rogue Airlines Flight 318 accident on June 13, 2019, all investigations will cease.”

“No!”

The blood in his entire body congealed.

Using both hands, he tore through the reporters and security guards blocking his way with the brute force of a wild beast. His body was empty, his heart was empty; only residual muscle memory and intense desire remained, supporting his mad drive to see that person’s face clearly one more time.

That isn’t you…

That isn’t you!

Zhuo…

Zhuo, Zhuo…

“BOOM—”

A deafening explosion came from outside the cabin. Fu Cheng’s eyes snapped open instantly, his gaze sharp as a hawk. Almost at the exact moment the explosion sounded, he grabbed the girl beside him with his left hand, pulling her upper body into his embrace for protection.

Screams and cries filled the cabin. One or two overhead bins burst open, and falling luggage smashed into people, drawing blood.

The plane jolted violently. The seatbelts fastened at their waists held everyone firmly, preventing them from being thrown around by the plane’s erratic movements.

The girl in his arms burst into tears from fear.

“BOOM—”

Another explosion. It felt like a roller coaster hitting another curve; the plane dropped rapidly. The sensation of weightlessness shot from the soles of his feet to his scalp. The world spun.

Fuck!

Fu Cheng raised his head and roared loudly: “Brace for impact!”

“Bend over, head down, grab your knees!”

By this time, the screaming had stopped, replaced only by rising and falling sobs.

The plane was like a high-altitude roller coaster, pitching up and down, shaking the world before his eyes into blurred phantoms.

A single second stretched out endlessly.

Perhaps a minute passed, or perhaps a year, before the plane slowly stabilized.

Fu Cheng held the girl, waited for thirty seconds, and then raised his head. His first glance was toward the left wing. He was sitting on the left side. His eyes widened visibly. A pitch-black gash cut horizontally across the top of the left wing. The aluminum alloy had been sliced open, the edges jagged and curled outward. Deep within the crack, a dark red fire glowed faintly, like netherfire from hell.

The engine was blocked beneath the wing and couldn’t be seen clearly from this position.

The passengers were still in shock, trembling one by one. Like Fu Cheng, they raised their heads and looked around.

“Bang—”

“Ahhh, God, God!”

“Am I going to die…”

“Save me, please save me.”

The plane jolted for another half minute before regaining calm.

Only then did the flight attendants have a chance to come out of the galley to soothe the passengers’ anxious hearts and instruct them on how to protect themselves.

sounds of retching and crying intertwined in the cabin. Fu Cheng gritted his teeth. After carefully checking that the girl’s seatbelt was fastened, he raised his hand.

A flight attendant walked over, staggering.

Her hair, which should have been meticulous, had strands pulled loose by the impact, falling messily against her cheeks. The wound on her forehead had stopped bleeding, but the gruesome hole was still terrifying. No one dared to think about whether this flight attendant was sitting in her jumpseat and buckled in the moment the plane malfunctioned.

Despite this, she still struggled to force a smile, leaning down to ask, “Sir, do you need something?”

Fu Cheng lowered his voice and quietly pointed out the porthole at the left wing for her. “There is a breach in the left wing near the fuselage, estimated at about 30 centimeters. There is fire on the left wing. I suspect engine damage; debris has cut into the interior of the wing, causing an internal engine fire.”

The flight attendant’s face changed abruptly as she saw the massive gash.

“Thank you, sir. I will report this to the cockpit immediately.”

“One more thing.”

“Sir?”

The black-haired young man’s eyes were pitch black, dyed with the color of deep night. But it wasn’t total darkness; it was a night sky twinkling with brilliant stars, containing confidence, tenacity, determination, and hope. He spoke word by word, his tone leaving no room for doubt, compelling deep respect.

“Additionally, tell the Captain that there is an active-duty pilot from China Eastern Airlines on board. I am proficient in all current aircraft models and hold a flight qualification license for the ERJ-190—”

“If needed, I am ready at any time.”

The shock on the flight attendant’s face slowly turned into pleasant surprise. The despair buried deep in her heart, which she hadn’t dared to dwell on, seemed to be infected by him in this moment. The young man before her lit a beam of light, piercing through the abyss and illuminating her heart that had nearly given up.

She bowed deeply.

“Thank you. I’m going right now!”

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