HDRDTH -Chapter 79 He Was Still Holding Them Up

“Yu Xian! Let go! The rod is about to blow!”

Captain Liu Jianjun rushed forward like a madman, grabbing Yu Xian’s shoulders and desperately trying to pull him back.

“When the rod snaps, the recoil will slice your neck! Let go!”

“Get lost!”

Yu Xian twisted his body and kicked Liu Jianjun in the hip.

Liu Jianjun rolled twice in the muddy water, covered in black sludge. He still tried to get back up and rush forward.

“Anyone who comes closer—I’ll kick them straight into the lake!”

Yu Xian’s throat squeezed out a hoarse roar. Veins on his neck bulged violently, almost bursting through his skin.

Both hands clamped tightly onto the special PE line.

The feedback from underwater was completely abnormal.

A body weighing over a hundred pounds—even with current resistance—should not feel like this.

There was a massive “water-holding” resistance below.

The corpse was not being carried by the current.

The current was crashing against it… and being stopped.

Forming a human-shaped dam.

He was standing underwater.

Arms spread wide.

Holding something back.

Zhao Laogen collapsed onto his knees in the rain.

A man in his fifties slammed his head onto sharp rocks again and again. Blood mixed with rainwater streamed down.

“Qingshan…”

His mournful cry tore through the storm.

“Let go, child! Those five kids are safe! They’re alive! You don’t need to hold them anymore… come home!”

Yu Xian’s heart tightened violently.

His grip nearly loosened.

Now he understood.

Why the resistance underwater was so terrifying.

In his final moment, the boy had lifted five children to the surface—one after another.

Even after death, his body remained rigid.

Arms still wide open.

Still forming a human barrier against the current.

He didn’t want to leave.

He was still holding them up.

Rain hammered Yu Xian’s face, streaming down his chin. His eyes burned.

“Chen Qingshan!”

He took a step forward and roared into the raging black waters.

His voice drowned the helicopter’s rotors and echoed through the entire crater.

“The rescue is done! They’re all alive!”

“You completed your mission!”

“Now I order you—release your strength and come home!”

BOOM—

A thunderclap split the sky.

At that instant, the chaotic underwater currents shifted—just slightly, almost like fate itself had wavered.

The crushing resistance suddenly eased.

“Now!”

Yu Xian drove his right leg forward. His military boot scraped across the rock with a piercing sound.

“PULL!”

He dragged the line, his body almost horizontal as he surged forward three steps.

The PE line snapped tight, screaming under tension.

The corpse, still in its frozen posture of holding up others, was forcibly pulled free from the cave pocket and drawn into the upward spiral current.

Pressure dropped.

“Reel! Reel it in!” someone shouted.

Yu Xian ripped the rod off his shoulder. His left hand, bleeding again, gripped the rod while his right hand seized the reel handle and spun violently.

Clack-clack-clack-clack!

The gears screamed in the storm.

One hundred meters.

Fifty meters.

Twenty meters.

The black water surface churned violently. White foam exploded in bursts.

Captain Liu Jianjun scrambled to the edge of the cliff, half his body leaning out. Four rescue divers followed, wielding long retrieval nets, kneeling in the mud.

“I see it! A white shape!”

“Prepare to receive!”

Wang Fei stood ten meters away, both hands covering her mouth. Her shoulders shook uncontrollably as tears poured down her face.

Wang Dafu lay in the mud, gripping Yu Xian’s leg with both hands, barely daring to breathe.

Yu Xian clenched his jaw and yanked upward.

SPLASH—

The surface exploded.

A pale young body in thin clothing was dragged out of the cursed water that had trapped it for half a month.

The helicopter spotlight locked onto it instantly.

A stark white beam.

Silence fell over everything.

Everyone saw it clearly.

The boy’s arms were raised high above his head.

Palms facing upward.

Fingers twisted into unnatural shapes from extreme exertion.

A posture of lifting lives.

Even in death—still unfulfilled.

Captain Liu Jianjun threw away his net. The four rescuers followed, abandoning theirs as well.

They jumped into the waist-deep water.

Chest-deep in freezing lake water, they extended their arms and solemnly received Chen Qingshan’s body.

“Lift him!”

Liu Jianjun raised his head and roared.

His voice was hoarse, heavy with blood and grief.

PLOP! PLOP! PLOP!

Over a hundred villagers dropped to their knees at the same time.

No shouting.

Only suffocated cries mixed into the rain, deafening in their silence.

Chen Qingshan’s mother stumbled through the crowd.

She fell in the mud, crawled up again, and rushed forward.

She collapsed onto her son’s cold body.

Her trembling hands slowly touched his swollen, pale face.

She was deaf and mute.

She made no sound.

Her throat only produced broken, choking gasps—worse than any scream in the world.

She turned back, pulled the red cotton jacket from the mud.

The one she had sewn stitch by stitch.

She unfolded it carefully and draped it over her son’s raised arms.

Adjusting it gently.

Trying to keep him warm.

Yu Xian stood at the cliff’s edge.

He released his grip.

Click.

The 28,000-yuan T1100 rod—his greatest tool in this battle—snapped cleanly in two.

The tip fell straight into the black water.

Yu Xian didn’t look at it.

He gasped for breath, soaked through, his waterproof suit torn and covered in mud.

The bandage on his left hand was gone.

The wound had turned pale and swollen, blood dripping from his fingertips onto the rock.

He collapsed onto the cold ground, drained completely.

Wang Dafu hurried forward, trying to help him up.

Yu Xian waved him off.

Leaning against Wang Dafu’s thick leg, he pulled out a plastic bag from his soaked pocket.

Inside was a crumpled pack of cigarettes.

He took one out and put it in his mouth.

Fumbled for his lighter.

Click. Click. Click.

But the wind and rain made it impossible to ignite.

A slender white hand reached in.

Wang Fei knelt in front of him, shielding him from the storm.

She lit a windproof lighter.

A small blue flame flickered in the rain.

Yu Xian looked up.

Her hair was plastered to her face, impossible to tell rain from tears.

“Got a light?”

Yu Xian leaned in and lit the cigarette.

He took a deep drag.

The harsh smoke filled his lungs.

His pounding heart slowly steadied.

The rescue team carried the body onto the ambulance. As the doors closed, hundreds of villagers broke down again.

Zhao Laogen walked up to Yu Xian.

This man, who had never bowed in his life, dropped to his knees once more and slammed his head to the ground three times.

Blood mixed with mud covered his face.

“Master Yu.”

“Chenjiagou owes you a life.”

Yu Xian exhaled smoke.

It dissolved instantly into the rain.

He didn’t stop him.

He deserved this bow.

If he refused it, the man would never be able to live with himself.

“Take him home,” Yu Xian said, flicking the cigarette butt into the mud. “Don’t let him be cold.”

The convoy’s headlights cut through the darkness.

Wheels rolled through the muddy mountain road, slowly leaving Heilongtan.

The helicopter roared again, wind whipping water across faces like blades.

Yu Xian stood up.

He pushed away Wang Dafu’s support.

With his bleeding left hand exposed, he walked toward the helicopter.

The door closed.

The aircraft lifted into the sky, its spotlight sweeping across the water one last time before disappearing into the night.

Below, Heilongtan returned to stillness.

The rain kept falling.

And beneath that frozen water, the soul that once held up five lives finally broke free from the abyss.

A mourning song without sound.

A spirit returning home.

Inside the helicopter, Yu Xian suddenly remembered something and pulled out his phone.

“Qin Yue, investigate a few people for me.”