He flung an arm around her as they sprinted for the bathroom eight feet away. The entire building collapsed right as they got there, knocking them to the ground.
They were frightened but did not feel any pain at first.
They lay entwined on their sides, not knowing whether they were bleeding or any bones had been broken. A large chunk of concrete loomed inches above their heads. Shifting their bodies, they knew, could cause it to drop on them.
Li's left arm was wedged beneath her husband. The pain was excruciating at first, until the arm went numb.
"I want you to make it out," Wang said. "We have a child, and I want you to raise her."
Through a crack in the rubble, they could see the light fading. The rubble was moving. It was pressing down, slowly crushing them. They no longer felt any pain, because their entire bodies had gone numb. Nor did they feel hunger and thirst.
They had to take turns breathing. When Li took a deep breath, her chest expanding, Wang held his breath.
Wang thought about what it would be like to die slowly, and he made a decision. "I tried bending my neck against the wall to kill myself," he said.
That was when Li told him that since God had not killed them right away, they were meant to live. She said he had to remember their daughter.
Then slowly the daylight began coming back through the crack. Hours later, they heard crunching footsteps on the rubble. Their voices were hoarse, but they began yelling again.
Someone shouted back, "Who are you?"
Li recognized her boss' voice. "I'm Li Wanzhi," she said. Rescuers pulled them from the rubble.
Their daughter was unhurt. She remains with them, refusing to leave their sides in the hospital.
They have no home to return to, but that is another problem for another time.
"The only thing we had was each other," Wang said. "We encouraged each other to live on, and we said once we got out, we'd live a good life and care for each other. Now we have a new start."
