Wen Qiao hailed a taxi and, after getting in, fastened her umbrella beside her feet and shook the raindrops off it. "Driver, to Dongpu Airport," she said.,The taxi sped down the road, rain splattering across the windows. A Cantonese song played softly inside the car, but Wen Qiao was too anxious to enjoy it; she wished she could fly there herself.,With a deafening 'bang', right before my eyes, a Bentley car and a concrete truck running a red light collided. The headlights were blinding, forcing me to cover my eyes. The screeching brakes, the tires squealing, and the earth-shattering impact of the vehicles created a cacophony of sound.。