A twisted steel plate was lifted away by a crane, and a rescuer suddenly shouted, "There's someone here!"
Ji Xiaosong's heart stopped.
She saw several rescuers carefully carrying a figure out from the rubble.
The familiar, army-green work uniform, its cuffs frayed from wear, was now stained a dark brown with blood.
"He's alive! Still breathing!" The medic's cry was like a bolt of lightning splitting the gloom.
Ji Xiaosong finally burst into tears.
She stumbled toward the stretcher and saw Xu Weidong's blood-streaked face, his eyes cracked open just a sliver.
"Three..." His lips twitched.
Ji Xiaosong grasped her husband's hand. These hands had once drawn the blueprints that would change the history of Chinese steel, but now they were terrifyingly cold.
"Two sons and a daughter," she said, choking back a sob. "Zhigang, Zhitie, and Nian'an."
The corners of Xu Weidong's mouth lifted slightly, and then he closed his eyes.
