Jiang Cheng held the little girl's hand, followed by seven night school students, three men and four women.
The muddy path could no longer be called a road, it's more like a mire.
One foot lifted high up, only to sink deep upon its descent.
No one cared about the mud on their shoes now; everyone was inching forward with uneven steps.
Ten backs of varying heights moved with difficulty.
"Over there! My mom is over there!"
The little girl tugged at Jiang Cheng's wrist, Jiang Cheng's voice drifted through the rain.
"Hurry up!"
The short distance, usually just a one or two-minute walk, took them over ten minutes.
They finally arrived.
Behind a low tree lay a woman dressed in black, sideways.
Her long hair mingled with mud, making it hard to discern if she was still breathing.
With a thud, Jiang Cheng knelt on the ground, fingers searching for the woman's pulse.
"She's alive!"
"Let me see first!"
Jiang Cheng knew first aid.
