'SEE YOU MORNING' 083 Her Shadow

When Lin Yuhui saw that his daughter was being cared for, he no longer cared how his extracted physical body would be treated. It was just that sometimes he could still sense that body’s perceptions, and would occasionally glance back to check on it. However, his main perceptions were those of his own past memories.
Of course, there were times when new perceptions emerged, accompanied by distinct entry markers. There was always a little girl on a golden beach under the brilliant sunset, her back to him, building her castle. When Lin Yuhui walked up to her, she did not turn to look at him, but quietly busied herself with her game. Lin Yuhui knew she was Lydia, though he was not entirely certain, as he had never met Lydia and had lost his eyes; he did not know what meaning there was in seeing. In any case, he felt she was the very Lydia who had once come to invite him.
Walking past her, Lin Yuhui seemed able to connect his perception to the current three-dimensional material world, seeing his daughter living a new life, happily cared for, while he himself could freely explore farther realms, returning anytime to visit. Without the constraints of a physical body, everything became freer—except for that one thread of crimson, deep in his heart, which he dared not touch.
Sometimes Lin Yuhui would also come to watch Lydia, peering through the metal hull of the starship to see what she was doing, expressing his gratitude to the sisters. Yet he kept avoiding his elder sister, unwilling to disturb her life or stir up old memories. Having lost his physical body, he could no longer do anything for her in the material world; in the spiritual realm, regrettably, he could do nothing either. Since their worlds no longer intersected, why should he appear in hers?
She was kind, she was hyper-perceptive, but she was also human—a young girl who liked her peers, who liked young men. Though Lin Yuhui felt that particular man was unreliable, mediocre, unworthy of her, and might even hurt her feelings, it was her fate. And Lin Yuhui could do nothing about it.
Only her shadow still flickered from time to time, pulling him toward her, and Lin Yuhui had to constantly guard himself, steering his exploration in the opposite direction.
Returning from space to Earth, her shadow remained behind him, still treasured in his heart. Overhead, the land below was the west coast of America, but the California coastline had already sunk in an earthquake.
Curious about the extent of the tectonic rupture caused by the earthquake, Lin Yuhui seemed to teleport instantly into the seawater. He did not know what time it was, but he saw massive vessels cruising beneath the waves. Were they Poseidon nuclear torpedoes? As he pondered, his perspective shifted again. There was not just one, but more—two, three… While continuing to follow them from his own viewpoint, Lin Yuhui felt an invisible force push him away, transporting him above the inland skies.
He realized some other power must be guarding a secret operation; there was no need for him to wade into that murky water. He left, flying toward inland places that interested him…
In low Earth orbit, after finishing her day’s work, Liana returned to her quarters, only to find a crowd gathered around the rest area’s holographic simulation game room, watching the gameplay inside.
Liana curiously joined in and asked,
“What’s going on in there?”
Before anyone could answer, she heard Lydia shouting at the top of her lungs inside,
“Squad Leader! The American devils are closing in!”
A spectator took off his perception helmet and whispered,
“The Korean War, the Korean War,” then quickly put it back on to continue watching.
At the shout, the American soldiers began advancing frontally and flanking from the direction of the sound. Upon nearing the outpost, they laid down suppressive fire while tossing grenades.
The moment the grenades exploded, the Maxim machine gun on the hillside opposite the position opened fire. But the blast of the grenades drowned out the gunfire, and only after several U.S. soldiers fell did the others realize they were under flank suppression. One by one, they hit the dirt, wishing they could bury their heads in the rock crevices as full-powered rounds cracked against the stones.
Lydia, playing a Chinese soldier, and several comrades crawled back along the trench. Peeking over the edge to spot the enemy, they began hurling grenades frantically outward.
The American soldiers at the front cried out in misery, not daring to rise, pinned down by machine guns and shrapnel, retreating on all fours amid helpless shouts of “We’re suppressed!” Those behind turned and scattered, each seeking cover before assessing the battlefield.
From the enemy trench, figures occasionally popped up at different points, sniping coldly—it was impossible to tell if different people were holding positions or if the same person was shooting from multiple locations.
Then the M2 heavy machine gun behind the U.S. lines opened fire. With immense penetrating power, even its splash damage wounded several soldiers’ arms, noticeably weakening the grenade suppression.
“Chang Desheng, Liu Tiezhu, go relieve Zhang Fugui and Zhang Fuxiang,” ordered Squad Leader Li Qingshan.
“Ma Zhanshan, Wang Hu, find positions to suppress the enemy heavy machine gun.”
Chang Desheng and Liu Tiezhu moved along the trench to the forward position, patting Zhang Fugui on the back to inform him,
“Squad Leader’s orders—we’re relieving you two.”
Zhang Fugui wasted no words, shouting,
“Fuxiang, with me!”
“Yes,” Lydia answered, following as they withdrew.
Liana watched and laughed—so her sister was playing Zhang Fuxiang.
Medics in the rear trench treated the Zhang brothers’ arm wounds. Fortunately, they were only flesh wounds from flying rocks.
Chang Desheng and Liu Tiezhu had just settled into a corner of the forward trench when—
“Artillery!” Chang Desheng shouted, shoving Liu Tiezhu into the crook of the trench corner while throwing himself behind him.
With a whistling shriek, the shell burst in front of the position—an enemy 60mm mortar had fired. Though not dense in fire, its plunging trajectory sometimes dropped directly into trenches, making it extremely dangerous.
Squad Leader Li Qingshan, watching anxiously from behind, urgently ordered,
“Lu Dayong, Qiao Gousheng, flank down the back slope and take out that gun!” After issuing the command, he glanced around—almost no one was left. He quickly turned to the Assistant Squad Leader, saying,
“Li Tieniu, go with them. After silencing the gun, hide and harass the attacking enemy from the flank at critical moments.”
“Yes, guarantee to complete the mission.” With that, the three headed off without looking back.
Meanwhile, Chang Desheng and Liu Tiezhu struggled in the forward trench, constantly shifting positions to throw grenades and fire, but the enemy mortars were laying down covering fire on fixed coordinates. Every incoming shell was like opening a blind box—no way to know where in the position it would land. They could only grit their teeth and hold back the crawling enemy.
Ma Zhanshan and Wang Hu had found concealed firing positions. Ma Zhanshan, a former Greenwood bandit, was an excellent shot. Raising his Mosin-Nagant, he fired a single round, silencing the U.S. M2 heavy machine gun eight hundred meters away—whether the gunner was hit or the gun itself disabled, there was no replacement gunner stepping up.
With the heavy machine gun suppressed, Chang Desheng and Liu Tiezhu could no longer stay in the trench. Exchanging a glance, they threw all their remaining grenades. Before the explosions even settled, they charged out of the trench, brandishing their PPSh-41 submachine guns.
Seeing his two soldiers charging, Squad Leader Li Qingshan pointed and shouted,
“Fugui, go!” Then he began picking off any U.S. soldier who dared raise their head.
The American soldiers in front saw the Volunteer Army soldiers leap from the trench and scrambled to aim, but grenades rained down, forcing them to dodge.
At that moment, the previously withdrawn Maxim was remounted on the trench, its long bursts rattling from the forward edge all the way to the rear of the U.S. firing line.
Lydia ran like a madwoman behind Zhang Fugui along the communication trench, swinging her arm in full arcs to lob grenades behind the enemy formation, cutting off reinforcements. Reaching the trench’s end, she raised her submachine gun, eyes wide, leaped from the trench, and roared,
“Kill…!” Firing as she charged, she flanked the attacking enemy alongside Chang Desheng and Liu Tiezhu.
Liana found the scene amusing—her sister had never been so engrossed in a game. She seemed truly happy today.
But when she switched to the perspective of other soldiers, she sensed something strangely familiar: that intense collective consciousness, that cohesion… Was it him? That Chinese man?