She drew a deep breath, forced herself to stay calm, and quickly spoke to Jiang Cheng.
"President Jiang, come with me—now. The plane might…"
Wang Qing's voice was steady only by sheer will; the faint tremor betrayed her terror.
Jiang Cheng's face turned as dark as a sky about to split with storm.
The air itself seemed to crush the breath from his lungs.
Thanks to the Danger Perception Skill he already knew the full horror,
but the warning had come far too late.
At this razor-thin instant none of his power could reach the scene.
A plane's safety, in the end, rests almost wholly on its pilot;
outside forces are next to useless.
Without blinking he stared at the screen and the newest message from Zhou Ying.
Zhou Ying: "Hehe, I can see you from up here! I spot ShanghaiAirport—descending soon. I miss you so much."
Clearly she still had no idea.
That joyful, eager line now stabbed him like a blade.
His knuckles whitened around the phone, veins bulging at his temples.
Brows locked, eyes wild with dread, he rasped at Wang Qing, "Has your airport ever seen this?"
Wang Qing shook her head in a stiff, mechanical arc.
Then the words tumbled out in a rush.
"Not here, but in '77 at Tenerife two jets collided on the runway. One captain cut corners to save minutes and slammed into the other bird. The fireball left no survivors on either aircraft…"
The buzzing in Jiang Cheng's skull swelled until thought itself shattered.
Only now did he grasp how, in raw panic,
the mind can blank to nothing.
"Where's Emergency Control? Take me—now! Patch me through to both flight decks—make them coordinate!"
His voice cracked like a whip, leaving no room for refusal.
He already had his phone out, thumb racing across the screen.
Remembering who stood behind him, Wang Qing nodded briskly. "This way."
Jiang Cheng dialed Chen Ping.
Chen Ping picked up on the second ring.
No pleasantries—Jiang Cheng spat out the crisis in two terse sentences.
Chen Ping hung up at once and hit the aviation authority direct.
He still had no perfect plan,
but to keep Zhou Ying's B320 from touching down here
he needed the authority's help.
Every route is carved in stone; delay, early arrival, the slightest deviation can trigger chaos.
As worry seared his nerves, a crisp ding sounded in his mind.
"Host detected under extreme stress; system calculations suggest a possible solution."
That single chime felt like dawn after the longest night; his chest loosened a fraction.
He sprinted after Wang Qing toward the emergency center beside the runway.
Inside, the room boiled with frantic voices.
Staff crowded the consoles, shouting over one another, no one certain what to do.
Every face wore the same helpless dread.
Jiang Cheng barked at Zhao Qiming, who had arrived first. "Can we take manual control of the runway lights? Divert one aircraft?"
Zhao Qiming gave a helpless shrug, voice low.
"Lights—maybe. But forcing a plane off its path in this crowded airspace risks smacking into another bird."
Before the words faded, Jiang Cheng's WeChat pinged.
His heart lurched; he looked down.
Zhou Ying: "Jiang Cheng, I love you. I'm afraid I won't see you again. These months with you have been the happiest of my short life. I hope you'll be happy. I can't bring myself to send this to my mother—if I don't make it, please look after her for me."
That farewell told him the B320 crew already knew an intruder blocked their runway.
Then the system sounded again.
Zhou Ying: favorability value +5!
"Ding—Zhou Ying's favorability toward Host has reached 99, unlocking the title Never Part Ways Until Death. Host will receive a special grand gift~"
Yet the leap to ninety-nine brought him no flicker of joy.
His heart felt shattered by a tempest, fragments scattered beyond reach.
He remembered Lu Xun's line: "You cannot bar a man from new love, nor stop the old love from living on."
So it was for him now.
Whatever other women there might be, at this instant his love for Zhou Ying was absolute.
Though the system had offered a path,
until the crisis was truly past, dread flooded every corner of his mind.
The duty officer didn't know Jiang Cheng, but no one wanted blame to land on them.
When he fired questions, answers tumbled out reflexively.
"The aircraft on final approach can't stop—she's already at 240 km/h. Even emergency braking may not save her; she could still collide while coasting…"