For a whole month, Zongheng's attention was completely focused on those history books. The long millennium of pen &www.biquge.info amp; fun & pavilion has not only changed people's understanding of the world, but also made great changes in the language and writing handed down from ancient times.

In order to understand the words and sentences that gradually evolved after the Tang Dynasty, Zongheng had to learn from Lydia how to look up the dictionary. In the beginning, every time I read a page of a book, I had to look up the dictionary more than a dozen times. Later, he read a book and rarely touched the dictionary.

I don't know if it's a relationship that has crossed over once, and the vertical and horizontal brains are much more flexible than before. Although it is not unforgettable, no matter how condescending the words are, as long as he reads them two or three times, he can memorize them like a stream. This allowed him to quickly speak Mandarin, the standard modern Mandarin. If it weren't for the fact that he didn't have so much energy, he would have been able to communicate with Delia in English by now.

Lydia was not surprised by his progress. In her mind, Zongheng should have been able to speak Mandarin. He didn't understand or speak, but it was just his disguise.

What a smart kid, but he's just a kid. As she drove across the Brooklyn Bridge, Lydia couldn't help but think.

It was this morning that Lydia received a call from Professor Fei's assistant. The assistant on the other end of the phone told Lydia that Professor Fei had read the materials she had sent by email overnight last night, and was so excited that she didn't sleep all night. Early this morning, Professor Fei instructed him to contact Lydia immediately and ask her to immediately rush to his residence in Nassau, Long Island, to meet him.

"The professor is very old, and he almost died of a myocardial infarction many years ago. He's been recuperating at home and writing books since he retired, and I've never seen him as excited as he was last night. This worries me. Agent Li, please be sure not to provoke the professor too much during the meeting. Lydia could hear the whining in the assistant's tone.

It was only then that Lydia remembered that Professor Fei was already a 95-year-old man. It's just that he has maintained a record of publishing an academic monograph every year over the years, so much so that people always forget his age because of his academic activity.

Lydia is of course very sorry for this, and promises to rush to the Professor's mansion as soon as possible, and end the meeting as soon as possible so that the Professor can have a good rest.

Although it was past rush hour, the not-so-spacious deck of the Brooklyn Bridge was still filled with vehicles entering and leaving Manhattan. As she slowly moved along with the traffic and was about to cross the approach bridge, Lydia saw that several Asian tour groups were already gathering there, preparing to take a walk on the wooden boardwalk on the bridge with a guide, take a photo, and hang a concentric lock.

"Chinese? RB people? Or Korean? Lydia, who is half Chinese, can't help but think about this when she sees these typical East Asian faces.

But before she could figure out what was going on, she suddenly heard a deafening scream from outside the car.

“Oh！ MyGod！ ”

“HollyShit！”

All sorts of exclamations with extreme emotions quickly spread through the crowd.

"Bang!" Not far from Lydia, a car passing near the outside of the bridge hit the rear of a car in front. Both owners got out of the car. But instead of rushing to check their car, they craned their necks and looked in the direction of Manhattan Island. It seems that something so shocking that they can't even bother with the accident that happened.

Lydia knew something big was going to happen. Anyway, the lane was already blocked, so she simply turned off the car and got out of the car to see what was going on.

As a result, an almost surreal picture fell into her eyes without hindrance.

On the island of Manhattan, where she had just left, the north tower of the twin towers that towered into the sky was burning, and thick black smoke rose from the tower, and a huge column of smoke was pulled diagonally in the direction of the south tower under the blowing of the north wind.

"My God......" Lydia was dumbfounded. Her reaction at the moment was exactly the same as that of the ordinary people around her, not at all like a trained FBI agent.

But she quickly remembered who she was. She quickly got back into the car, took out a pistol from the toolbox, stuffed it at her waist, and hung the badge around her neck, then threw off the car, rolled over the guardrail between the roadway and the boardwalk, grabbed a pedestrian standing on the side of the bridge and looked at the Twin Towers in a daze, and asked, "FBI!" What just happened? ”

The man was in a state of utter shock, and he looked at Lydia blankly, as if he didn't understand her question.

"What happened?" Lydia asked aloud again.

"One...... An airplane...... A plane crashed into the World Trade Center......," the man replied, stumbling as he pointed to the smoking Petronas Twin Towers.

“Shit！” Despite the psychological preparation for this unusual fire, Lydia couldn't help but burst into foul language.

She let go of the man's arm, turned her head and ran back. If it really is a terrorist attack, then the FBI will soon call all the agents. She must race against time to get back to the New York branch of the FBI, which is just a stone's throw away from the Twin Towers.

As for her car, Lydia couldn't care less. Anyway, she left the keys in the car, and if it got in the way, someone would naturally drive her car away.

Lydia is in good physical condition, and when she was training at the National Academy, she did better than many male trainees. But it was rush hour, and the bridge was already crowded with people rushing to work, and after the attack on the Twin Towers, the otherwise orderly crowd began to become chaotic, which made Lydia have to work several times harder to cross the same distance.

As she was about to pass the second pylon, Lydia suddenly heard someone shouting, "Look! Plane! ”

Lydia's heart pounded. For some reason, she narrowly focused her gaze on the South Tower of the World Trade Center.

I saw a huge Boeing passenger plane rushing into the middle and upper floors of the South Tower without hesitation. Immediately, an orange cloud spread out of the impact and rose up......

Lydia stood on the bridge, stunned at the nightmarish scene. Her mind went blank, as if her thoughts had been paused, she couldn't hear the screams around her, she couldn't see the commotion around her, and all her attention was taken in by the burning, smoking Petronas Twin Towers. It wasn't until a panicked passerby knocked her to the ground that she regained her ability to think.

Lydia got up from the ground and climbed over the fence to get back into the driveway. By this time, a large number of people who had crossed the bridge on foot had begun to flee in the direction of Brooklyn. Trying to swim against the current in this chaotic flow of people with the strength of one person is tantamount to killing yourself. In contrast, a driveway packed with cars, while just as chaotic, is much easier to navigate than a sidewalk.

Lydia jumped on the roof of a car and leaped on top of the end-to-end car. The steel hood and roof make a muffled "thump" sound under the stomp of leather shoes.

It wasn't that no one wanted to stop Lydia, but the badge she wore on her chest in advance played a significant role at this time. Whether it's the owner of the car being trampled on, or the police trying to maintain order, after seeing the golden badge on Lydia's chest that keeps jumping with her, they will subconsciously make way for her.

When Lydia ran all the way to Federation Square, which was next to Wall Street, the square was already filled with agents she knew well. She remembered his partner Hatton, who had stayed in the hospital to protect and spy on Nemo, and thought that the hospital in the lower city where he was located was so close to the Twin Towers that he must have witnessed the whole attack first. I don't know if he will immediately put down the task at hand and come back for reinforcements like her.

She picked up her phone and dialed Hatton's number, but the communication system was obviously paralyzed, and she couldn't get through.

"Muller! Mulder! Why is everyone downstairs? Lydia asked, stopping a hurried agent.

"Skinner is asking everyone to get out of the building."

"Why?" Lydia asked again.

"I don't know!" After a hurried answer, Mulder walked away from Lydia.

Lydia recalls Hatton's phone, but still can't get through, much to her uneasiness.

She stopped one of the agents again and asked, "Did you see Hatton?" ”

"Nope!"

Lydia asked several people in quick succession, but no one knew where Hatton had gone.

"Maybe he's still in the hospital." Lydia thought to herself.

It was at this time that she heard the sound of a hand-held megaphone coming from the crowd.

She turned back to see her boss, Skinner, standing on a bench in the square with a megaphone in his hand, surrounded by a large crowd. Most of them were FBI agents, but there were also staff from other agencies working in the same federal building as the FBI's New York regional office.

Lydia also hurried around.

"Attention everyone! Attention everyone! I'm Walter Skinner, director of the FBI's New York office. Skinner's gold-rimmed glasses were crooked, and his almost bald head was covered with beads of sweat, but his tone was unprecedentedly firm, "Due to the impact of the attack, all public communications systems in New York are currently disrupted, and we do not yet know whether the New York government authorities have established a unified emergency response command for this incident." But as members of the federal government, we have a responsibility to be the first to be involved in the rescue work during this difficult time. At this point, I need all federal government employees, whether you belong to the FBI or not, to follow my command until communications are restored, or until other federal directives are received. Do you understand? ”

“Yes！ Sir！ The crowd around Skinner responded loudly.

“Yes！ Sir！ Lydia put Nemo's case and the appointment with Professor Fei behind her, and responded with everyone.

It was at this moment that Lydia noticed a frightened look on Skinner's face. His face was right in the direction of the World Trade Center, what did he see?

Lydia hurriedly turned to look.

At a glance, she screamed in terror.

I saw the smoke-emitting North Tower, like a giant whose backbone had been sucked off, collapsed straight to the ground, and in just a few seconds, it turned into a pile of ruins.

At the same time, the dust clumps raised by the collapse of the North Tower spread rapidly into the surrounding neighborhoods like a sand storm, and countless people were screaming and fleeing......

"It's hell...... "Lydia was left with only one thought left in her mind.