186: Chapter 186 A Boeing 777 stopped at Victoria Harbour.

Li Li placed his phone face down on his thigh.

He had sent it.

Whether Jiang Rumu replied or not, he couldn't check it now.

Over three hundred lives were still hanging in the balance in his hands.

He turned his head to glance at Snow.

Snow was huddled on the folding stool, clutching the hard drive, his entire body shaking uncontrollably.

"Snow."

"Huh?"

"Drag the co-pilot to the back and tie him up."

Snow was stunned for half a second.

Li Li added, "If we ditch on the water later and he's sliding all over the cockpit, who's going to be responsible if he gets smashed to death?"

The co-pilot on the floor, his mouth taped shut, immediately started making muffled noises.

Chief Flight Attendant Chen Xiyun stepped on his back.

"Shut up."

The co-pilot stopped moving.

Snow swallowed hard, and together with Chief Flight Attendant Chen Xiyun, they dragged the man to the rear folding seats.

They wrapped the seatbelt horizontally.

Then vertically.

They added two more layers of tape.

Li Li turned his head to take a look.

Good grief.

He was tied up tighter than a mummy.

"Snow, sit in the co-pilot's seat."

Snow turned pale.

"I don't know how to fly a plane."

"I'm not asking you to fly it."

Li Li stared at the instrument panel.

"Sit still, don't move around. If you fly out of your seat later, it's going to be an ugly way to die."

Snow didn't say another word; he scrambled into the co-pilot's seat.

Click.

Click.

Click.

He fastened three seatbelts.

"Chief Flight Attendant, the back row."

Chief Flight Attendant Chen Xiyun put down the fire extinguisher and sat in the folding chair.

"Fasten it."

"Already did."

Li Li turned back.

The fuel reading flickered.

It hit zero.

The RPM of the left engine began to drop.

The hum in the cockpit grew quieter and quieter.

Five seconds later.

The left engine flamed out.

The entire boeing 777 fell silent.

The sound of the wind rushing past the fuselage was very clear.

Over two hundred tons.

Over three hundred passengers.

Now, everything depended on trading altitude for distance.

The system panel popped up blue text.

[Friendly reminder: Dual engine failure. Current status—unpowered glide.]

[Suggest the host focus, after all, your only source of power right now is gravity.]

[Gravity is free, but the landing fee might cost you your life.]

Li Li ignored it.

His left hand pressed on the control stick, and his right hand reached for the flap control lever.

Ahead was the ridge line of Tai Tam Country Park.

The terrain was hard to see at night.

But two red strobe lights were flashing on the mountaintop.

Those were the markers temporarily set up by the Flying Tigers.

Altitude: two thousand eight hundred feet.

The highest point of the ridge was over one thousand three hundred feet.

He could clear it.

But there was no room for error.

The plane had no power; every hundred feet lost was a matter of life and death.

Li Li kept the speed at 400 kilometers per hour.

He couldn't go faster, as only the APU was running.

If he went too slow, the control surfaces would fail, and a stall would mean the end.

He aimed the nose at the lowest point in the middle of the ridge.

The massive fuselage of the 777 swept over the ridge.

The red strobe lights flashed beneath the belly of the plane.

The Flying Tigers members on the mountaintop all looked up.

As the plane passed, the airflow blew off two hats.

One member bent down to pick up his hat and cursed.

"This thing is way too big."

Past the ridge.

Below was Happy Valley.

The Jockey Club had already been evacuated.

Li Li pushed the stick slightly.

The altitude continued to drop.

Two thousand five hundred feet.

Two thousand feet.

One thousand five hundred feet.

To the front right, the buildings in Central were lit up.

The red aviation obstacle lights on the second phase of the IFC were blinking.

The flight path was off.

Not by much.

But for the 777 right now, even a slight deviation could be fatal.

Li Li nudged the control stick to the left.

Two degrees.

The nose corrected back to the flight path.

The IFC swept past the right side window.

He cleared it.

Ahead was Victoria Harbour.

The water surface had been cleared.

Searchlights swept over from both banks.

Rescue boats were lined up on both sides, leaving a landing zone in the middle.

It was long enough.

It was wide enough.

The waves were not big.

Li Li pressed the captain's broadcast button.

"Ladies and gentlemen."

The cabin went quiet instantly.

"Outside the window now is the night view of Victoria Harbour."

"It's very beautiful."

"But don't look at it."

"After we get off the plane later, you can see it more clearly standing in the water."

He paused for a second.

"Now, everyone, heads down, grab your knees, and prepare for impact."

"I'm not joking."

"The plane is about to touch the water."

The broadcast cut off.

The cabin was silent for half a second.

Then, all the flight attendants shouted in unison.

"Brace position!"

"Heads down! Grab your knees!"

"Brace position!"

"Heads down! Grab your knees!"

The voices traveled from first class to the back of the economy cabin.

Some had hoarse throats.

Some were crying as they shouted.

But no one stopped.

Over three hundred passengers lowered their heads.

The middle-aged man who had written a suicide note folded the paper, tucked it into his chest pocket, and then grabbed his knees.

The woman next to him was shaking from crying, but her arms were still locked tightly around her legs.

The only sounds in the cabin were the shouts of the flight attendants.

And the sound of the wind outside the fuselage, getting closer and closer.

— Tsim Sha Tsui.

Outside the cordon.

Shen Jue was squeezed to the very front of the crowd.

It was packed with people.

Some were holding up phones to livestream.

Some were on tiptoes, looking toward Victoria Harbour.

Some kept chanting, "Don't break, don't break."

Shen Jue saw it.

A massive dark shadow pressing down from the direction of Central.

There was no engine sound.

Only the sound of the wind.

Fifty meters.

Forty meters.

Thirty meters.

The plane was getting lower and lower.

On the screen of the phone in Shen Jue's hand was an aerial livestream.

The real plane in the distance was overlapping with the live footage.

Twenty meters.

Ten meters.

Then, he couldn't see it from his angle.

The plane was blocked by the buildings in front.

Shen Jue suddenly looked down at his phone.

In the aerial footage, the 777 was already skimming the water.

— The Landmark Mandarin Oriental, Hong Kong.

The 32nd floor.

Jiang Rumu stood on the balcony.

The wind blew her hair into a mess, but she didn't care.

She kept watching that plane.

No lights.

No engine sound.

Only a huge fuselage gliding over Victoria Harbour.

The final few seconds.

The nose lifted.

Not much.

Three degrees.

Maybe five.

The tail touched the water first.

Immediately after, the belly pressed down.

Water splashed out from both sides of the fuselage.

White mist erupted over a dozen meters high.

The plane was swallowed by the water mist.

Jiang Rumu's hands gripped the balcony railing.

Her nails dug into the white paint.

One second.

Two seconds.

The mist dissipated.

Cathay Pacific CX890 sat in the middle of Victoria Harbour.

The fuselage was intact.

No fractures.

No capsizing.

No fire.

Even the engines were still hanging under the wings.

Searchlights from both banks, along with helicopter searchlights from the sky, shone on it simultaneously.

The white fuselage was illuminated.

Victoria Harbour was silent for half a second.

Then.

The entire Hong Kong exploded.

Outside the cordon in Tsim Sha Tsui, the crowd erupted in a roar.

Not applause.

Just a roar.

Shen Jue jumped up.

Director Pei Zhao jumped up too.

The milk tea in Wen Zhuotang's hand flew out and smashed on the ground.

Fang Ruowei squatted on the side of the road, covering her face and crying uncontrollably.

Gu Zeyan stood in the back row, raised his hands above his head, and clapped hard three times.

Shen Jue turned his head and saw him.

Gu Zeyan was laughing.

Laughing without any regard for his image.

Qi Wanyin bent over, supporting herself with her knees, her shoulders shaking continuously.

Before Shen Jue could laugh at Gu Zeyan, Cen Ye lunged over and hugged him.

"Aowww!"

Cen Ye shouted until his voice cracked.

Shen Jue was choked breathless, but he shouted along too.

Han Shubai came over as well.

The three men hugged in a pile, jumping around outside the cordon.

The cameraman carried his equipment, filming while crying.

The footage was shaking violently.

But no one cared.

Global audiences didn't have the time to care either.

— CNN studio.

The anchor wiped her nose with a tissue.

"CX890! Has!"

She paused.

"Safely ditched in Victoria Harbour!"

The aviation expert next to her took off his glasses, his hand shaking the whole time.

"This is one of the most incredible water ditchings in the history of civil aviation."

He put his glasses back on.

"A boeing 777. Right engine destroyed. Out of fuel. Over three hundred passengers."

He paused for a few seconds.

"I don't know how to evaluate this."

Weibo trending topics refreshed.

Number one: Victoria Harbour ditching successful.

Number two: Li Li.

Number three: The world owes him an Oscar.

The TikTok comments covered the entire screen.

[Ahhhhhhhhhhh]

[They lived! They really lived!]

[What is this man made of!!!]

[Architect? Firefighter? Pilot? What is his next identity? Astronaut?]

[Jiang Rumu, hurry up and marry him, this kind of man is limited to one worldwide]

[I'm reporting him, this guy is hacking!]

— On the balcony.

Jiang Rumu let go of the railing.

White paint chips were stuck under her nails.

She looked down at her phone.

The line of text in the edit box was still there.

[Li Li, whether you are alive or dead, you are my boyfriend.]

She stared at it for two seconds.

Deleted it.

She wouldn't send it.

She wanted to say it to his face.

Jiang Rumu turned back into the room, grabbed her coat, picked up her phone, and walked out.

The elevator went down to the first floor.

As soon as the lobby door was pushed open, it was packed with people outside.

The streets of Central were already gridlocked.

Taxis were stopped on the side of the road, not moving.

Everywhere were people holding up phones.

Jiang Rumu didn't wait for a car.

She set off walking toward Victoria Harbour.

Her high heels clicked on the stone road, the sound rapid.

One minute later.

She passed the neighboring Mandarin Oriental Hotel.

The reception hadn't ended yet.

The entrance was brightly lit.

Jiang Rumu didn't stop.

Whether the people inside had seen what happened at Victoria Harbour had nothing to do with her.

At this moment, a row of dark commercial vehicles pulled up to the main entrance of the hotel.

The doors opened.

One.

Two.

Three.

People got out in succession.

All wearing dark coats.

Each person had a large backpack on their back.

Over thirty people.

No one laughed.

No one spoke.

No one looked at their phones.

A hotel bellhop went up to them.

No one paid him any attention.

The group passed through the revolving doors and entered the hotel lobby.

Jiang Rumu passed by them.

She didn't stop.

She only wanted to go to Victoria Harbour now.

When she turned the corner, her phone vibrated.

It wasn't Li Li.

It was Yin Ruoying.

[Mumu, there are too many people at the reception, I'm planning to leave in ten minutes, where are you?]

Jiang Rumu didn't reply.

She locked her screen, shoved her phone into her pocket, and kept walking forward.

In the hotel lobby.

Those thirty-something backpacks were bulging full under the lights.