The farther inland they went, the more oppressive Zhang Xiao felt it become. By the time the plane reached the destination airport, that crushing weight had left him struggling to breathe.
The tower had asked whether they needed to divert to another airport, but the Co-pilot, who was in "excellent condition," felt he could even fly another round trip and strongly insisted on sticking to the original flight plan.
Mindful of his mental state, the tower feared that pushing him too hard might prompt an "There's no point in living," so they could only agree.
Because of the tragedy aboard the plane, nearly every aircraft nearby had either changed course or entered a holding pattern, clearing its path from the sky to the ground.
The plane's flaps moved, its descent gradually eased, and the landing gear beneath the fuselage and wings slowly lowered.
Fire engines and ambulances lined both sides of the runway to welcome them. A section near the far end had even been sprayed with a mound of firefighting foam as high as a small hill.
Police lights flashed. Officers in peaked caps and olive-green uniforms stared wide-eyed at the plane overhead.
With a roar, the plane swept down onto the runway.
Flushed and brimming with energy, the Co-pilot executed a textbook landing, the landing gear's tires kicking up a streak of bluish smoke.
The wings' lift dropped to a minimum, and the plane finally rolled along the runway, slowing steadily. Adjusting the engines and rudder, he taxied off the runway and followed the guidance system slowly into its parking stand.
The instant the plane came to a complete stop, cheers erupted throughout the cabin. The passengers' hearts finally settled, like a great suspended boulder lowered to the ground.
The airport's passenger stairs connected with the door, and