On the way back from the military exercise, I performed plainclothes duties in the concert hall.
>The music teacher playing the cello on the stage suddenly stopped and stared at the audience in the row behind me.
>When the gunfire rang out, I had already thrown her down - the bullet grazed the tip of her hair and penetrated the piano case.
>"Don't move," I suppressed her trembling body, "What did you find just now?"
>Three words came out from her pale lips: "He has scars on his sleeves."
>Later, she always wandered outside the military hospital, until I stopped her on the day I removed the bandages: "Teacher Su, the piano has been repaired."
>When she performed a solo for me at the New Year's concert, the terrorist's knife was pressed against my lower back.
>The sound of bullets being loaded came from the darkness - it was her "cowardly" best friend holding up my sidearm.
Intention: love