Jian tore at the rubble with growing desperation, his fingers raw and trembling. Finally, after what felt like hours compressed into seconds, he cleared enough debris to yank open the crushed car door. The hinges screamed in protest before snapping entirely.
Inside the mangled vehicle sat a slumped figure, half-limp, half-curled. Jian's breath caught in his throat.
"No way…"
His eyes widened as recognition slammed into him.
"Li Wang!"
He lunged forward and grabbed the motionless body, dragging it out with shaking hands. Dust clouded the air, sticking to the blood and grime that coated Li Wang's torn clothes. Jian laid him down carefully onto a level piece of broken concrete, already dropping to his knees beside him.
"Come on… come on…" Jian muttered.
He leaned in and pressed his ear to Li Wang's chest.
No breath.
But—yes—there was warmth. His skin still held heat.
His heart might still be beating.
