Emma gazed at Jason, who seemed to have descended from the heavens, and all her suppressed emotions could no longer be contained. Even though this was a foreign country, a place she might never return to in her life, she could feel their sorrow, pain, and despair.
When that father charged at the terrorist, Emma didn't know what he was thinking. Perhaps he just wanted to give his child a glimmer of a chance to live.
"Shen Yan," Emma leaned into his embrace, clutching his shirt with both hands, using all her strength to keep from breaking down.
Just an hour ago, the marketplace had been filled with various sounds she couldn't understand—shouts of vendors and the haggling of customers. The people here didn't live in abundance; otherwise, such a market filled with worn second-hand items wouldn't be so bustling.
Yet, the terrorists chose these people who struggled and strived to live, subjecting them to the depths of hell.
She couldn't bear it.
It felt like something was lodged in her chest, ready to explode at any moment.
Jason held her in his arms and whispered, "If crying will make you feel better, then cry out loud. Jingxi, don't blame yourself; there are things we cannot change."
Tears welled up in Emma's eyes, but at the last second, she still shook her head.
She looked up at the man in front of her and said in a voice that pushed herself to the brink, "I won't cry, I must not cry."
Emma had always been strong. Over the past year, she had never cried, even when she first saw a corpse, when someone died right in front of her; she held back the nausea in her heart and persisted until the report was finished.
But today, under the weight of such immense grief, she still tried desperately to hold back.
It wasn't that she lacked compassion or didn't feel sorrow for these people.
It was because she didn't want to give the terrorists what they wanted; they aimed to incite fear, sadness, and despair in everyone.
So she wouldn't be defeated. She mourned for those who had died; her heart was already a river of tears. But more than anything, she wanted to tell the truth to the whole world.
At this moment, the wails from the hospital seemed to pierce through the lobby and reach the outside, audible even to Jason. He had come to Lebanon secretly, knowing she wasn't in Israel, but he still wanted to come. However, the situation in Lebanon was even tenser than in Israel.
After all, Israel is a military powerhouse, effectively controlling crises within its borders and confining conflicts to the surroundings.
But as soon as he entered Lebanon, his bodyguard suddenly informed him of a massive explosion in a marketplace, with many casualties.
Jason knew the bodyguard wouldn't mention it without reason.
The next second, the bodyguard said, "Emma was just at the marketplace."
Jason was silent for several seconds until he seemingly calmly said, "Go there immediately."
But his hands burst with veins in that instant, his face showing extreme restraint and self-control, while his heart was a tempest.
The Middle East has always been plagued by wars, and terrorists are becoming increasingly rampant.
If anything happened to her...
Jason took a deep breath. Fortunately, halfway there, a call came reporting that Emma had already gone to the hospital.
Although the bodyguard assured him that Emma was not injured, he didn't relax at all until he saw her sitting on the hospital steps, which were a mix of blood and mud, looking particularly terrifying.
She was huddled in a corner of the steps, with no one to care for her or ask about her.
Suddenly, for a moment, Jason's eyes reddened.
It was a damn heartache.
When Emma lifted her head from his embrace, Jason was about to speak, but he caught sight of the bloodstains on his shirt, and his heart tightened. He grabbed her wrist.
When Emma's palm was opened, even she was stunned.
Her hand was covered in bloodied scratches, with blood and mud mixed together in her palm, and especially sand embedded in the flesh.
It looked particularly terrifying.
"Didn't you feel the pain?" Jason's voice couldn't help but rise; he was truly worried and thus angry. The hospital was right next door, and she didn't even call for help.
Emma blinked her eyes; she really didn't feel it.
Emma was completely taken aback by Jason's casual mention of another man in front of her, his wife. It was simply unacceptable. However, she managed to suppress her emotions, deciding to discuss it later at home. She took Jason's hand and strolled through the mall. On the seventh floor, they came across an arcade lined with claw machines, filled with various plush toys.
Although Emma had no interest in these games, Jason stopped her. "Do you want one?" he asked, tilting his chin toward the machines.
Emma glanced at the couples nearby and chuckled, "Are you going to win me a toy?"
Jason nodded.
Seeing him in such a rare relaxed mood, Emma thought it was worth a try. She had never played these games before because she felt it was a waste of money. No guy had ever won her a toy before, and since Jason was her first love, she had never associated him with something as playful as a claw machine.
Especially now, he was dressed in a camel coat over a suit, looking formal and elegant. Since entering the mall, he seemed more like a person inspecting the place than a shopper.
"How about this one?" Jason finally stopped in front of a machine that had only one large plush toy.
The toy was about 1.5 meters tall, big enough to require both arms to hold it.
This was a scissor claw machine, not the usual type that picks up toys with a claw, but one that uses scissors to cut the string and drop the toy.
Emma thought that the larger the toy, the harder it would be to win. Jason seemed like someone who had never played before.
She whispered, "Why don’t we pick another one?"
"Why?" Jason asked.
Emma replied, "The larger the toy, the higher the difficulty. You don’t need to challenge yourself with something so difficult for your first time. Let’s go to that machine instead." She pointed to a nearby claw machine filled with smaller toys.
Before they could decide, another couple approached. The girl held the boy's arm and said, "I want that big toy."
"The person is still playing with it. When they're done, I'll cut it for you," the boy said reassuringly.
The girl worriedly replied, "What if they take the big toy away?"
The boy confidently said, "No way, this claw machine is really hard. Most people can't cut it. I'll show you my skills later."
Emma snorted at the boy's comment. Did he really think Jason was just "most people"?
Feeling her competitive spirit surge, Emma declared, "Jason, you should cut this one for me."
Jason looked at her, a mix of surprise and amusement in his eyes, as if he found her determination endearing.
The next moment, Emma put the coins in the machine.
Jason slowly maneuvered the machine, and Emma's eyes were glued to the screen. The couple next to them stopped chatting and started watching intently.
As the scissors moved closer, the girl behind them said, "I have a feeling he's going to cut it."
"It's impossible, definitely not..." The boy's last word hadn't even finished when the string in the machine suddenly snapped.
Jason had cut it.
Emma jumped up in excitement, wrapping her arms around his waist, shouting, "You really did it!"
When the staff handed the toy to Jason, he turned and handed it to Emma.
But after stepping outside, he looked at the massive plush toy that nearly blocked her view and asked, "Should I help you carry it?"
Emma shook her head, "No need."
Then she looked at him seriously and said, "This is your trophy."
Jason found her adorable.
Then Emma added, "Because it proves that my husband is the best at winning toys in this mall."
The pride in her tone was unmistakable.
Jason frowned slightly, and then he leaned in close to her, his lips landing on her eyelids, prompting Emma to instinctively close her eyes.
The kiss was incredibly tender, as if he was bestowing all the gentleness in the world solely upon her.
The moment her eyes closed, tears streamed down her cheeks.
The room was quiet, the immense tragedy that had unfolded in the city had not yet reached this space. But her heart felt stuffed, not only was it uncomfortable but it also made her want to cry uncontrollably.
Until she raised her hand to wipe away the tears from her eyes.
Suddenly, Jason's lips moved towards the corner of her eye, and she felt a soft touch brush past her eye.
She shuddered.
But it was Jason who sighed lightly and said in a low voice, "If you still want to cry, you can let it out. Xingxing, you don't have to hold back."
Crying is a right of every individual, and although Jason had cried only a handful of times from childhood to adulthood, he didn't want Emma to be bound by the notion that crying equates to weakness.
His voice was hoarse by her ear, "Xingxing, you can cry as much as you want because I am here."
Emma looked up at him, "When I was at the marketplace just now, when the bomb exploded right in front of me, there was only one thought in my mind."
"Shen Yan, I haven't seen you for the last time."
If she had been affected by the explosion today, then Emma's biggest regret would be that she hadn't seen him.
"How could it be the last time," knowing that what she said was just a hypothetical, Jason still couldn't bear it.
He wanted her to live easily, to be right there in front of him.
Emma sniffed lightly, looking down at her palm and murmuring, "It still hurts."
Jason followed her gaze, his brows slightly furrowed.
After a long while, he hesitated but asked softly, "Shall I blow on it for you?"
When he uttered the words "blow on it," he seemed extremely embarrassed, as if those two words were particularly hard to say.
Emma was taken aback.
Blow on it...
Her lips curled into a smile, finally showing a hint of amusement on her face. She raised her palm to his lips and said softly, "Yes, I want you to blow on it."
Jason seemed to let out a sigh and finally, reluctantly, lowered his head.
In the end, he gently blew on her palm, the warm breath sliding across her palm.
It seemed to really disperse the sour and unbearable pain.
Emma was already content, but she didn't expect the man in front of her to look up with a helpless yet doting expression: "Do you want more blowing?"
The Middle East is scarce in water, and Lebanon is no exception, but fortunately, the place where Emma stayed was not too bad; at least hot water was provided every day.
After tending to her hand wounds, she decided to take a shower.
Upon entering the bathroom and removing her clothes, she realized that not only her palms were injured. The blood on both knees had long dried, likely from falling when she threw herself down earlier.
Sighing, Emma cautiously turned on the hot water shower. As the hot water rained down on her, the unpleasant smell on her body seemed to finally dissipate.
She let out a comfortable sigh, closed her eyes, but the next moment, the image of the explosion flashed through her mind again.
The loud bang, louder than any sound she had ever heard, as if it were to destroy the entire world.
The phone call had abruptly ended, and the next second, a loud noise sounded outside.
Jason turned around and rushed out the door. When he entered, Emma, wrapped in a bath towel, also rushed out. Seeing him, Emma let out a sigh of relief.
Then she hooked her arm around his neck: "Shen Yan."
She called his name; in that instant, when the loud noise had erupted, she had thought another explosion had occurred, so without hesitation, she had rushed out wrapped in a towel.
Jason glanced out the window and said softly, "I'll go check what happened."
But Emma held his hand and shook her head: "Don't."
She tried to calm herself down, "Wait for me for a minute."
Jason nodded, and she immediately turned back into the bathroom. Truly, in less than a minute, Emma reemerged from the bathroom, now dressed in clean shirt and trousers.
She went straight to the bedside where her phone was.
Emma picked up her phone and dialed a number; it was quickly answered on the other end.
Qiao Muheng asked, "Jingxi, how is the situation in Lebanon now?"
"Two explosions occurred at the marketplace earlier, a terrorist attack," Emma emphasized the words 'terrorist attack' clearly, because in the Middle East, where internal conflicts are constant, many terrorist attacks targeting civilians are mistaken for battles between armies.
So she stressed that it was a terrorist attack.
Qiao Muheng, such a refined person, rarely cursed.
He immediately asked, "How are you currently?"
Emma glanced back at Jason, "Chief, I have completed the frontline reporting work, and I have captured enough footage at the explosion site. Can I return to Jerusalem as planned after handing over my duties here?"
Qiao Muheng was almost stunned.
According to the original schedule, Emma could return because a colleague had been sent from the country to take over the previous colleague's work, and they were arriving in Lebanon today.
"You can return after handing over to the new colleague," Qiao Muheng said.
He knew Emma's character well; he had thought it would be difficult to persuade her to return after such a significant event. But he didn't expect Emma to ask for it herself.
He knew Emma was not afraid, but Qiao Muheng suddenly became curious about what reason would make this girl, who never knew retreat, ask for it for the first time.
At three in the afternoon, Emma met the new colleague.
Lin Qinglang also happened to be back.
Emma handed over her previous work to the new colleague, preparing to leave, and she had already packed her belongings.
Lin Qinglang looked at her helplessly, "I thought you would stay after such a big event."
"I have completed my mission, and the rest is up to you," Emma said with a light smile.
Lin Qinglang naturally noticed the waiting vehicle outside and whispered, "Is it because of him?"
Jason's sudden appearance and Emma's decision to leave made it easy for Lin Qinglang to connect the two.
Emma turned to look back, gazing at Lin Qinglang, "I used to always rush to the front, never looking back. Just now, when I heard that loud noise in the hotel, I suddenly wondered why I was always so fearless."
Because she knew there would always be someone behind her to protect her.
After Emma got in the car, Jason looked out the window and then at her, "Really not staying?"
He knew such a terrorist attack was a significant news hotspot, and she was one of the few reporters on the scene, yet she still chose to leave.
Emma lifted her chin slightly, "Every colleague at Xinhua News Agency is the best."
So even without her, they would accomplish the mission excellently.
Jason silently gazed at her.
Finally, Emma reached out, held his hand, and whispered, "Shen Yan, I can't keep letting you put yourself in danger for me."
This time, it was her turn to give up something for him.
Emma leaned closer, gently hugged his waist, and pressed her cheek against his chest. His heartbeat was steady and strong. Finally, she whispered, "I have fulfilled my duty to my work; now, I am responsible for you."
Let's go home together.
The Middle Eastern sun is always so enduring and intense. As their car headed towards the outskirts of the city, preparing to drive towards Israel, in one part of the city, Emma saw an extremely long line of people.
Her cheek couldn't help but press against the window.
At the head of the queue were medical staff; this was a temporary blood donation site in the city.
A massive terrorist attack had occurred in the city, with initial reports indicating more than forty deaths and over two hundred injuries.
Such a large scale of casualties not only overwhelmed the hospitals but also put pressure on blood banks.
Locals, after seeing the government's call to action, took to the streets to donate blood for their fellow citizens. The streets were not necessarily safe, as no one knew if the terrorists would strike again.
But no one hesitated.
At this moment, the long line not only failed to decrease but actually grew longer.
Emma quietly leaned against the window, watching the scene outside, until she could no longer bear it and turned her head away.
Jason's hand rested on Emma's back as she covered her face with both hands, her body trembling with the involuntary reaction of crying.
"Xingxing," he called softly.
Emma didn't speak; her tears flowed down through the gaps between her fingers, such suffering was always hard for her to bear. Perhaps no one but those brutal terrorists could endure it.
She just felt sad in her heart for these civilians.
They were all such kind people, extending a helping hand the moment their fellow citizens were in trouble, fearlessly coming to donate blood despite the dangers on the streets.
Such kind-hearted people should live in peace and enjoy peace.
Jason gently held her in his arms, quietly embracing her for several minutes until the immense sorrow in Emma's heart gradually subsided, then he gently stroked her back a couple of times.
He asked, "Does it feel a bit better now?"
Emma buried in his arms, although not moving, made a muffled 'mm' sound with a thick nasal tone.
She lifted her head, trying to force a smile, but as soon as the corners of her mouth lifted, her eyes became even more sour. Jason lightly scraped her nose: "You don't have to force yourself to smile at a time like this."
Emma sniffled and looked at him with a bit of confusion: "Shen Yan, does all I do have any meaning?"
Jason was slightly taken aback.
Emma's floodgates seemed to open: "Over the past year, I've been reporting non-stop, never retreating. But in the end, I feel like everything I've done hasn't been able to stop anything."
These terrorists still raged on, disregarding the moral bottom line of humanity and committing these heinous acts.
Perhaps this is a question that every war correspondent eventually has to ask themselves.
What is the meaning of giving up the peaceful and harmonious life in their own country and running on the line of death every day in these foreign lands?
Do they really think they can stop the war by doing this?
"Jingxi, everything you do is meaningful. These wars may not be changed by you, but if even you don't record all this, then everything that happened today will be forgotten by the world. It is because of you that this incident was known to the world in the first place."
Jason gently patted her back, and he said softly, "Don't blame yourself too much, each of us has a very small power, but it is such a small power that when gathered together, it can become a river and sea, thus fundamentally changing the course of human history."
Isn't the course of history changed bit by bit?
Emma looked up, listening to his calm and powerful voice, as if she had been forcefully struck in the heart.
Finally, a different light appeared in her eyes.
She reached out and hugged him, whispering, "Shen Yan."
She wanted to tell him so much, wanted to tell him everything, but in the end, she just wanted to call his name. This man has been protecting and supporting her since she met him.
When they returned to Jerusalem, it was already evening, and the entire city was unusually quiet.
As they entered the city, Emma received a call from Qiao Muheng.
Qiao Muheng looked solemn and said, "Jingxi, was the place attacked today just a common marketplace?"
Emma was taken aback, not quite understanding why he would ask this, and instinctively said, "Of course it's a common marketplace."
"Half an hour ago, the BBC published a report, but the report claimed that the attacked place was a military stronghold of Hezbollah in Beirut," Qiao Muheng's voice sounded particularly heavy.
If it was a military stronghold, then this attack was a military operation.
This is completely different from a terrorist attack.
A wave of anger surged in Emma's heart.
Emma couldn't help but feel a cold laugh welling up inside her. She was at that place, in that marketplace filled with ordinary people. How could it be a Hezbollah stronghold?
She knew that some Western media had a bias, but she didn't expect that even BBC, which claimed to be neutral, would make such a mistake.
She said firmly, "Chief, I have a lot of evidence in my camera that proves it was just an ordinary marketplace. It's definitely not a stronghold."
After returning to her residence, Emma barely put down her things before she took out her computer and camera. She turned on the camera and scrolled through the photos she had taken at the Beirut marketplace—vintage and exotic trinkets, ordinary mothers holding their children.
The images in the camera were so peaceful and beautiful. Until the first photo filled with blood appeared, a photo taken after the terrorist attack.
Emma flipped through one by one until she found the photo she was looking for. The surroundings were bombed into wreckage, a child covered in dust and blood on the ground, and in the moment when the soldier arrived, the child's hand, strong and raised.
Finally, the soldier's gloved hand and the child's hand were clasped together.
Emma stared at the photo for a long time.
Damn the stronghold, this was an attack on civilians.
In the end, Emma uploaded the photo to her international Instagram and Twitter accounts, as well as her domestic Weibo account. She originally wanted to tell the world this story about a father and his child, but when she uploaded it, she suddenly found that any language was pale.
So powerless and helpless.
Only the photo records the truth, it will tell people what is happening here.
She finally named the photo LIVE.
Survival or being alive, the boy's father used his life to hope his son would live, and the little boy in that moment when the soldier came to save him, tried to open his palm.
After uploading the photo, Emma rubbed her eyes.
She let out a long breath, and when she turned her head, she saw Jason sitting quietly in the chair next to her. Emma blinked a little awkwardly.
She had been so focused on work that she almost forgot about him.
Emma suddenly asked, "Are you hungry?"
For safety reasons, they didn't have time to have dinner on their way back.
Jason thought for a moment: "I really am a bit."
Emma asked, "What do you want to eat?"
Jason thought for a few seconds and said, "Noodles, I'll ask the hotel if they have any noodles at this time."
Most shops on the street were closed, let alone Chinese restaurants. Perhaps only the hotel's room service could come up with something.
But Emma suddenly smiled and said, "Ask the hotel for what, I can make them."
Jason really didn't know she could do this, until Emma took out a small bag of flour from the kitchen and found a small basin, mixing flour and water.
Then she began to knead the dough, gradually turning the flour and water into a mass.
Emma said with regret, "I don't have anything in the fridge. I was going to be away for a month, so I cleared out the fridge. Otherwise, I could make you a tomato and egg noodle."
Jason watched her skillful technique and finally couldn't help asking, "When did you learn this?"
Before they got married, they rarely ate at home, and when they did, it was usually the housekeeper who cooked. They were both busy and had little time.
Emma thought for a moment, "After I came to Israel. You know, Chinese food is expensive here, and sometimes when we really want it, we make it ourselves."
Jason frowned slightly.
Emma kneaded the dough and turned to look at him, seeing his expression and couldn't help asking, "What's the matter?"
He leaned close, almost pressing against Emma. The skin on Emma's ear was almost feeling his breath coming, until he asked in a suppressed voice, "Am I not the first one to eat it?"
Emma's movements stopped.
She suddenly felt a familiar feeling coming.
Until Jason said nonchalantly, "Then you have to make it up to me."
Emma struggled to say no, but she couldn't open her mouth to lie to him. After all, during the year when colleagues were together, others would also cook for them. It was just that in terms of making noodles, she seemed to learn faster than others.
When she first made knife-cut noodles for everyone, several northern men almost swallowed the bowls.
She is a southerner who usually eats rice, so even if she doesn't eat noodles for a long time, she will be very accustomed to it. But northerners are different, noodles are their staple food, and if they don't eat for a long time, they will miss it desperately.
So after Emma learned to make noodles, under the eager expectation of several colleagues, she even learned to make high-difficulty noodles like buns.