?Mobile reading Qin Feng quickly sent a message to Zhou Muxi: The airport update says the situation is very serious—how is it now? E-book Chapter Eight Zhou Muxi's reply: The flight attendants and ground crew are doing their best to calm the passengers. During our last conversation, the captain accidentally switched off the family channel and mentioned that, given the current conditions, there's an 80% chance of an incident upon landing. This now makes sense—explains why the airport has requested personnel to move to the runway and opened the fire lanes to allow emergency vehicles access. Soon, her second message arrived: Don't worry about your brother-in-law’s husband—the captain just said the risk level will be minimized, and the airport has three of the longest runways ready, so there should be no issues. Qin, the young noble, thought: It's not that I don't trust the captain—it's that I'm worried about the plane itself. What if something goes wrong? Moreover, the captain's words carry only a modest degree of credibility—perhaps even himself doubts their truthfulness. To soothe passengers' emotions, it's necessary to speak with sincerity, even if it means saying things that aren't entirely accurate. Delegating decision-making authority to others is not something Qin Feng typically does. He hurried into a nearby restroom, ensuring it was empty, then vanished without a trace. Under Qin Feng's instructions, Xiao Ding swiftly headed north, prioritizing Zhou Muzi's safety. A few minutes later, Xiao Ding's image appeared before him: a medium-sized regional airliner, wobbling steadily in the air, covered in ice—especially thick on its wings. The accumulated ice added significant weight, reducing the aircraft's agility. The most critical risk lay in the ice buildup on the engine casings; should the engines fail, the outcome would be catastrophic. The plane continued to descend, when suddenly a strong gust of wind hit it, causing the fuselage to shake violently and a crack appearing in the skin of one wing. "Small Ding, accelerate!" he barked firmly. "If Si Si gets hurt, I swear I won't just throw you into the toilet—I'll send you straight to the most filthy dry latrine in a rural village, then seal your mouth so you'll stay there forever, breathing only the stench of the dung!" Small Ding immediately showed his displeasure, yet complied and increased the speed as requested. A few minutes later, Small Ding began flying alongside one side of the aircraft. The plane rocked heavily, and through the overhead windows, passengers' frightened faces could be seen. In the cockpit, the two pilots looked tense, with the captain sitting behind them, constantly asking them to adjust certain parameters. "Captain, if we keep going like this, we're going to crash," said the co-pilot. "Are you really going to suggest anything else?" the captain replied, equally pale. The co-pilot said, "I suggest we raise the aircraft, using the sunlight to melt the ice on the fuselage. Only by reducing our weight can we hope to land safely!" The captain shook his head and replied, "Do you know the g-forces we'd experience if we raise the aircraft? The airframe might even break. Moreover, since we're on a short-haul flight, our fuel load is limited—we simply won't make it until the ice melts!" The co-pilot's hands began to tremble: "Then we're out of options. I can't do it. I can't do it..." The captain quickly took over the controls, yet even then, the aircraft dipped downward, and the cracks on the wings widened, spreading out in a fissure-like pattern. "Full thrust, reduce speed," the captain ordered. Full thrust was to generate more lift, while reducing speed ensured a safe landing. The aircraft was now only about seventy to eighty kilometers from the airport. If this handling is generally correct, then the captain would be aware that the wings have cracked—since lift is entirely generated by the wings—and as thrust increases, the wings must bear greater forces. The left wing begins to shake uncontrollably, then suddenly snaps with a crisp crack, and the section beyond the engines fractures uniformly. The aircraft suddenly loses balance and plunges downward. "Not good—we've got to go in!" Qin Feng roared. He had remained at a distance, accompanying the flight, because entering would require creating an opening, which would cause a sharp change in cabin pressure and accelerate the aircraft's deterioration. As long as there was any chance of a safe landing, he would never have done it. Now that half of the wings are broken, what's left to wait for? If we don't act now, there will be no opportunity at all. The small aircraft slammed into the fuselage through the broken wings. Inside the cabin, passengers' cries rose and fell continuously. Fortunately, they had all fastened their seatbelts, though some luggage from the cargo hold spilled out, tumbling as the aircraft rolled. The young lady leapt up from her chair and landed directly on his shoulders. "Heh, with something so dangerous happening, of course I have to come," he said, kissing the lobe of her ear. "I won't let you suffer any harm, because you're my beloved, my sweet wife!" "Mm-hmm," she responded, deepening the kiss, then asked, "What about the other passengers? Can you also lend a hand to them, husband?" Qin, the young noble, tightened his lips and shook his head. "No, it's not that I lack compassion—it's simply that our abilities must remain hidden from ordinary people!" "But..." "Thoughts, I know you're kind-hearted, but this is truly not something we should get involved in, even though we possess such powers," he said earnestly. "There are countless cultivators with abilities stronger than ours. Have any of them ever stepped in to handle these matters? Each world has its own laws. I can certainly rescue them, but think—after I've saved them, what then?" Zhou Mu thought for a few seconds, then nodded. "I see. If we save them, our identities will be exposed. Even if we get them to make oaths, I'm certain someone will eventually spill the beans. Then, we'll face an endless stream of troubles—countless complications!" "So, the fault lies entirely with heaven. He's taking these people away, and we can do nothing about it," Qin the young noble said, running his fingers through her hair.