At exactly seven that evening, hundreds of millions of television sets across the country lit up with a familiar image.
The melody of the news program's opening theme played simultaneously in living rooms across countless households.
A red backdrop, a golden station logo, and two hosts seated upright behind the news desk, their expressions calm and solemn.
This was Rabbit Nation's most-watched program, and over the past few days, it had also been the only source of information for countless families.
Over the past week, provincial capitals and major industrial cities across the country had endured air raid sirens time and again.
Schools had suspended classes, factory assembly lines stood ready to halt at any moment, and subway stations and underground parking garages had become the most familiar places.
Even during the hours when no alarms sounded, an invisible tension hung over people's lives—
No one knew whether the next missile would fall over their city, and no one knew how long this war would last.
Li Bing sat on the sofa in the living room, a cup of tea that had long gone cold before him.
The television screen illuminated his tired face.
He was a workshop supervisor at a machinery factory in the city. Usually accustomed to a steady, orderly work rhythm, he had been tense from head to toe these past few days.
After returning from work that day, he had sorted through the emergency supply bag in his backpack again and placed it on the shoe cabinet by the door, ready to grab it and leave at any time.
His wife came out of the bedroom and sat beside him. She glanced at the television, then at Li Bing, and spoke softly, keeping her voice low so their daughter would not learn about these matters.
"Should