I still remember clearly, on January 3, 2020, I had lunch with my parents in Hong Kong, then flew directly to Tokyo. Right before the Spring Festival, I was preparing to fly back to Shanghai, feeling on top of the world. At the airport, my wife suddenly called, telling me to bring some masks back, saying there was some unknown pneumonia in Wuhan. I was puzzled; my suitcase was so small, why bring masks? But I was genuinely shocked. During my two hours at Narita Airport, initially many shops had masks, but then I suddenly noticed many Chinese people frantically buying them up. I was booked on an Air China flight. Just before boarding, there were two or three Shanghai families behind me, and someone suddenly had a high fever. I was terrified. I immediately called my assistant in Hong Kong, asking if there were any other flights back to Shanghai. He said there was one last business class flight arriving around midnight. Without a second thought, I rushed from Narita Airport to Haneda Airport. It felt like escaping a disaster!
I finally arrived in Shanghai late at night. Unexpectedly, a young woman and two police officers with submachine guns approached. Protective suits weren't common then. The woman said they received a report from the control tower: there were families with fevers behind us, so the passengers ahead could leave first. I dashed out swiftly, truly feeling like I was fleeing towards freedom.
After the Chinese New Year's Eve, the demon drew closer and closer.