Chapter 2611: 2518 45° Yielding the Way (Alliance Leader Jiangnan Spring River Water Extra Chapter 2)

Two hours later, an ambulance with out-of-town license plates wailed as it drove into the congested section of Di Du.

Inside the vehicle, a boy under three years old was held in his mother's arms, and the sound of oxygen hissing through the nasal catheter filled the air.

Earlier, while on the expressway in a Mercedes, they had been gradually approaching Di Du, like gradually approaching hope; although the woman was anxious, her emotions were still under control.

However, as soon as they entered Di Du, the ambulance's movement suddenly slowed. Amid the bustling stream of vehicles, it was as helpless as a leaf.

From fast to slow, it soon crawled at a snail's pace, and the ambulance driver blared the alarm.

The accompanying doctor looked at the outside traffic and sighed, "With this volume of traffic, the time from here to 912 will probably be longer than the time from our hometown to Di Du."

"Hope we don't hit a major jam," the nurse also worried, "A year ago I accompanied a transferred patient to Di Du Hospital, and we were stuck on the Third Ring Road for at least four hours. I watched helplessly as the patient's heart rate rose from 120 to 160. If we were lucky, the patient would still have breath upon arriving at Di Du Hospital, and in the end they should have been saved."

Hearing the doctor and nurse say that, the woman's expression grew increasingly agitated. She blankly gazed out the ambulance window, seeing one vehicle after another crawling forward. Amid the traffic flow, occasional delivery riders zipped through on electric scooters.

At times like this, no matter how good the vehicle's performance, it absolutely cannot outrun a delivery rider's motorcycle.

Watching the motorcycle cheerfully disappear from view, the woman's agitation intensified, and red veins quickly spread across her eye sockets.

At this very moment, she wished she could hold the child and hop onto a motorcycle. Even the ambulance's forward speed might not be faster than walking, let alone the delivery rider's motorcycle.

The alarm blared sharply, and the doctor accompanying the 120 ambulance opened the small window in front of the driver's cabin and asked, "Master Sun, can you move?"

"Look," the driver said helplessly, pointing at the dense thicket of vehicles ahead, "Can we even go?"

The endless dragon of traffic stretched beyond sight, filling onlookers with despair.

The woman held the child, slightly shifted her angle, and also looked out the window. When she saw the line of vehicles ahead stretching who knows how long, tears involuntarily streamed down her face.

"Doctor, I'm getting out of the vehicle," the woman said.

"Getting out..." the accompanying doctor sighed, "If you walk to 912, you won't get there until tomorrow morning."

"Even that's better than being stuck!" the woman's voice was sharp, then suddenly trailed off at the end.

"I've transported patients to Di Du twice before, and back then there weren't nearly as many vehicles as now," the driver said, his mood also a bit low. He sighed and continued, "It will take three to four hours; I told you and your loved ones when we got on board to be mentally prepared—it won't be that quick."

The woman held the child with her left hand and turned her face away, so tears wouldn't fall onto the freshly bandaged wound.

She had only been scalded by hot porridge, yet she didn't know why she had fainted. Gazing at the twice‑seen congested traffic, her heart felt as if it were being repeatedly stabbed by a knife, blood flowing like a river.

A few seconds later, the woman suddenly declared firmly, "I'm getting out."

"It's useless; even if you get out, you won't be able to walk," the doctor advised. "I'm not joking—you'll be stuck in traffic for just a few hours, and you simply cannot make it to 912 on foot."

"I'll flag down a motorcycle; just waiting like this won't do!" the woman had already begun moving toward the rear door.

Back in her hometown, she had held the child and boarded from right here.

The doctor wrung his hands in anxiety; the woman had gone mad with worry, and no amount of persuasion helped.

"Wait a moment!" the driver's voice suddenly came through, "Someone is making way!"

"Making way?" the woman pictured a long river of cars in her mind—there was simply no lane for a vehicle to pass. Where could they make way to? They were just comforting themselves.

Maternal instinct drove her to protect the child fiercely; she had made up her mind that, no matter what, she would find a motorcycle to take herself and the child to 912 as fast as possible.

She didn't even bother to check the road conditions; with such dense traffic, a lane simply couldn't appear. The woman stood up and stubbornly walked toward the rear.

But just then, the 120 ambulance jerked forward. The inertia of the start jolted her, nearly making her fall.

"Sit down, be careful!" the doctor shouted immediately.

The nurse had been watching her, but made no attempt to grab her, for fear of being scratched. At this point, the patient's family members could not be reasoned with; they were already in a state of frenzy.

As she lurched backward from the inertia, the nurse immediately seized her body to help steady her.

"Don't panic!" the doctor on board shouted loudly, "We can go! We can go!!"

His tone was somewhat excited; even though he frequently responded to 120 emergencies, he had never seen a situation like this before.

The woman stared, and through the windows she could see private cars slowly moving backward.

Are we really moving forward?

We really are moving forward!

She felt like a drowning person clutching a lifebuoy—relieved to be rescued, her heart overflowed with gratitude, yet she could hardly believe it.

Could what she had seen before all have been an illusion?

The woman dazedly turned, sat down carefully, and inched forward bit by bit.

"Don't move, or you'll fall," the nurse advised from the side.

"Doctor, what's going on?" the woman asked in a hoarse voice.

"Well..." the doctor didn't know how to describe it, he remarked feelingly. But his head blocked the small window completely, so he couldn't see what was ahead.

"Let the patient's family take a look, and don't really get out holding the child. If we leave and she stays behind, whose fault would that be?" the nurse complained.

"Oh oh," the doctor acknowledged, but he couldn't get a word in.

At that moment, the driver's voice came over the loudspeaker: "Please, vehicles ahead, make a 45‑degree move to clear a path—there's an unconscious child on board!"

The woman feared she was hallucinating; she couldn't fathom what was happening. With so many vehicles, how could they possibly clear a lane?!

She squeezed past, pushing the doctor aside. But the next second, the scene before her eyes shocked her.

As the driver's words, mixed into the 120 ambulance's alarm, rang out, the vehicles within sight all tilted their heads slightly and moved a bit in their respective directions.

Because the traffic was dense, they did their utmost to open a narrow passage.

The 120 ambulance turned its steering wheel and, following the solid line between the two rows of cars, began to move forward slowly.

The ice river shattered; each vehicle resembled a broken chunk of ice, invisibly emitting creaking sounds as they opened a passageway to life.

"I never expected there to actually be a 45‑degree yield. I'd seen the publicity before and thought it was nonsense," the doctor accompanying the 120 ambulance remarked.

……

……

Note: That day, returning from the annual meeting while running errands by car, I happened to encounter an ambulance sounding its alarm. Three private cars ahead used a non‑standard 45‑degree method to make way, and the ambulance sped off.

It's actually quite useful; seeing it at the time, I felt somewhat moved.