Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Heavy snow fell through the night sky.

Zhao Xiaobao felt as if she were floating in midair—she could see everyone, yet no one could see her. Terrified by the sudden catastrophe, she wailed loudly, crying out for her parents. She didn’t understand what was happening. What did “the earth dragon turning over” mean? Why would it happen?

She watched boulders tumbling down from the rear mountain, flattening a wide swath of trees. Village houses collapsed in the blink of an eye. Some people were drenched in blood; others knelt on the ground, weeping. Chickens, ducks, geese, and dogs that had narrowly escaped the initial disaster scattered in panic. Some frantically dug through rubble and dust for buried relatives; others stared blankly, dazedly, at the lifeless bodies of their loved ones.

Finally, Zhao Xiaobao saw her own home. Moments earlier, her parents and elder brothers and sisters-in-law had been chatting cheerfully about the generous gifts prepared for the new brides’ return visits. In an instant, her father was struck in the spine by a falling beam. Her mother cried out her sons’ names, urging them to rush over and save their father.

Her eldest, second, and third brothers reacted instantly. The moment the ground shook, their eyes snapped open. They scooped up their still-sleeping wives and bolted outside. Their nephews were slower—some didn’t react at all. A moment’s hesitation cost them dearly: Fengzi and Xi’er were instantly buried beneath a collapsing earthen wall. Xiao Wu, Gu Zi, and A Deng were struck on the head by falling roof tiles; blood streamed down their faces as they screamed for their parents and grandparents. Forgetting to flee, they desperately shoved aside stones and clods of earth crushing their younger brothers.

The eldest and second brothers rushed to rescue their father. The third brother raced to save Fengzi and Xi’er. Their sisters-in-law wept until they nearly fainted. Utter chaos reigned—

“Fengzi and Xi’er… they’re gone…”

Zhao Sandi knelt on the ground, cradling Zhao Feng and Zhao Xi—dug barehanded from the ruins. He stared blankly toward his eldest and second brothers, who were struggling to save their father, his voice barely a whisper.

Icy snowflakes stung his neck. A cry of excruciating agony pierced the heavens.

“My sons—!!!”

Sun Shi’s body went rigid—and she collapsed to the ground.

…

“Waaah…”

A heart-rending wail erupted from the main house. Wang Shi, who had sat awake all night, instantly reached out and scooped her daughter into her arms. Anxiety etched deep lines across her face as she murmured repeatedly, “Don’t cry, don’t cry, Xiaobao—don’t cry. Mother’s here.”

“What’s wrong? Why is she crying like this?” Old Man Zhao approached with an oil lamp. Seeing his youngest daughter’s eyelids swollen from tears, his heart clenched tight.

He had no idea what had happened. One moment, the child had been happily munching fragrant pork cracklings from a bowl; the next, she’d fainted without warning—so terrifying that the entire family’s legs turned weak. They’d already decided to carry her to town to find a doctor.

Fortunately, the third daughter-in-law noticed Xiaobao was merely asleep. Everyone finally breathed a little easier.

But that calm didn’t last long. Then came the crying—relentless, unceasing tears. At first, she wept silently; then her sobs swelled into piercing wails. Nothing could rouse her. They had no idea what horror she was dreaming—her tiny face twisted with fear and helplessness, trapped in a nightmare from which she couldn’t wake.

“She can’t keep crying like this. I need to do something.” Old Man Zhao shuffled off the bed in his cotton slippers and rummaged through cabinets for incense, candles, and spirit money. He intended to burn offerings to the heavenly deities and inquire what was amiss—had they summoned the child for questioning? If she’d committed some offense in the mortal world, a few words of admonishment would suffice; they mustn’t beat or scold her.

“What are you doing in the middle of the night?” Wang Shi was already distraught, and seeing him like this only heightened her irritation. “Do you think the gods sleep like you do?”

“Aiyo—the heavenly hours differ from ours! They might be enjoying lunch right now. I’m doing this for peace of mind. Don’t worry.” Old Man Zhao muttered mysteriously, carrying the incense, candles, and spirit money outside.

The door hadn’t been shut tightly. With her sharp eyes, Wang Shi glimpsed candlelight flickering in the courtyard through the window—the old man mumbling something indistinct.

Perhaps the ritual truly worked. Zhao Xiaobao, who had been crying nonstop in her arms, suddenly opened her eyes.

“Mother!”

“Mother’s here.” Joy lit Wang Shi’s face. Instinctively, she rocked her daughter gently. “Xiaobao, don’t be afraid—don’t be afraid. Mother’s here.”

Dim candlelight bathed her profile; the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes brimmed with warm, maternal love—utterly unlike the despairing figure haunting Xiaobao’s dream.

Zhao Xiaobao’s lips trembled—and then she burst into loud, piercing wails again: “Waaah—”

The shrill cry shattered the night, jolting neighbors awake in adjacent rooms. Xiaobao cried until she hiccupped, her short legs kicking the quilt violently—as if trying to break free from invisible restraints: “Mother, Mother—it turned over! The dragon turned over! The houses collapsed! Father was crushed by a beam… Wuwu—Father died!”

Old Man Zhao had just stepped back into the room when he heard his daughter declare he was dead. His weathered face paled instantly. Urgently, he demanded, “Xiaobao—what did you dream? What dragon turning over? I’ve never heard such nonsense! Our village has only snakes—where would a dragon come from? Xiaobao, don’t talk nonsense! Your father is perfectly fine!”

But Wang Shi’s expression changed. Houses collapsed? Dragon turning over? Dragon? *Earth dragon turning over?*

Her heart lurched violently. An indescribable panic surged through her entire body. She snatched the quilt to wrap around Zhao Xiaobao—and in her haste, didn’t even bother with shoes. Clutching her daughter, she sprinted outside: “Old man—run!!!”

Old Man Zhao remained slightly bewildered—but instinctively followed her out.

“Eldest! Second! Third! Wake up—everyone get out of the houses! Grab your wives and come out now—!”

“Zhao Wu! Zhao Gu! Zhao Feng! Zhao Deng! Zhao Xi…”

The moment the words left her mouth, the earth roared. Heaven spun; earth heaved. Mountains thundered; ground churned. Birds and beasts fled the rear mountain in terror. Massive boulders crashed to the ground.

The earth shook violently. Wang Shi grew dizzy—her legs nearly buckled. Her face drained of color. She steadied herself quickly, leaned on Old Man Zhao for support, and charged into the courtyard—clutching Zhao Xiaobao tightly.

The instant they reached the yard, the main house behind them collapsed with a deafening crash.

Wang Shi froze—her face ashen, her legs trembling. Her arms tightened desperately around Zhao Xiaobao.

“Old man…”

“I—I’m here. It’s alright.” Old Man Zhao’s lips trembled. Beads of sweat, large as soybeans, suddenly slid down his face. His legs shook. He glanced urgently toward his five sons’ rooms—and saw them burst out like a string of agile cats, shouting as they ran.

“Grandpa—what’s happening?!”

“Grandma, Grandma—what happened? It’s so scary—I’m terrified!”

“I almost got hit! Lucky I ran fast!”

Wu, Gu, Feng, Deng, and Xi clamored as they rushed behind Wang Shi, their faces still pale with fright—completely unaware of what was unfolding. They’d been sound asleep when their brothers dragged them out.

Houses collapsed before their eyes. The earth shook. Panicked cries rose from every corner of the village.

Zhao Dashan had awakened the moment his little sister began wailing. He’d meant to rush to the main house to check—but the instant the anomaly began, he scooped up his sleeping wife and dashed outside. Zhao Erdi, always a light sleeper like his elder brother, reacted almost simultaneously—carrying his wife and bolting out.

Only Zhao Sandi—whose childhood ability to sleep through thunder remained unbroken—didn’t stir until roof tiles struck his face. His wife finally pinched him awake, and he stumbled out flustered and disheveled, his face bruised from her frantic grip.

“Father! Mother—are you alright?!” The three brothers immediately turned toward Wang Shi and Old Man Zhao.

Wang Shi shook her head. She stood in the courtyard, holding the now-terrified Zhao Xiaobao—silent.

She had watched her own home collapse before her very eyes. In just a few blinks, the house she’d lived in her entire life had become a pile of rubble.

The sky was pitch-black; snowflakes drifted down. The earthquake lasted an agonizingly long time. Desperate cries and wails drifted from the distant village.

Old Man Zhao swallowed hard. He moved his stiff neck and spoke with difficulty: “Third son—stay and guard the family. Eldest and second sons—come with me to the village to help others.”

There was no time now to worry about anything else—the crushed poultry, the money and clothes buried in the rubble, the lard rendered just yesterday… none of it mattered compared to life itself.

He took a deep breath and glanced at his wife. Wang Shi nodded. They exchanged no words—but decades of unspoken understanding meant a single look sufficed.

Before the overwhelming power of heaven and earth, humanity seemed utterly insignificant.

Wang Shi drew a slow, steady breath—and directed Zhao Dashan to begin salvaging essentials: rice, flour, oil—whatever could be recovered. The crushed chickens and ducks needed retrieving immediately; they were still edible. Fortunately, of this year’s two pigs, one had already been sold and the other slaughtered. The pork was buried—but it had been smoked into bacon; they could dig it out and wash it clean.

Though rice, flour, and oil suffered losses, the grain had been stored in sacks—most of it remained intact. The flour, however, was irretrievably ruined—mixed with mud, sand, and splinters. The lard jars had all shattered; the lard hadn’t fully solidified yet, so it was likely spoiled too. Delicate items—eggs, soy sauce—couldn’t withstand the damage and were lost. Only the coarse salt jar, handled carefully, might retain a portion.

And the family’s most vital money box… She subconsciously tightened her grip on her daughter—and swiftly tallied their assets in her mind.

Quietly, she addressed her three daughters-in-law, who stood nearby, still too stunned to move: “Go dig out the clothes and quilts. Be careful—they mustn’t get damp from the snow. It’s freezing now; no one in this family can afford to catch cold and fall ill.”

"Mm-hmm!" Zhu Shi nodded, her legs trembling and weak, as she went with her two sisters-in-law to dig for belongings.

"You lot, don't run around. Stay put at home," Wang Shi instructed, looking at her grandsons.

Zhao Wu and the others couldn't stand still, constantly glancing toward the village, their faces betraying worry. "Grandma, can we go help rescue people too?" They were concerned about their friends in the village, unsure if they were okay or if they had managed to escape.

"A Deng and Xi'er stay here. Xiao Wu, take Gu Zi and Fengzi to the village to help. Everyone, be careful," Wang Shi arranged after a moment's thought. The older boys had some good strength and could work like half-grown men, helping lift beams or move stones. Every life saved counted now—it was all in fate's hands.

Zhao Wu's face lit up, and he was about to dash off.

"Help our clan first," Wang Shi added after a pause. Everyone had their own priorities; in critical times, it was natural to aid one's own clan first, and only then outsiders if there was strength to spare.

"Mm-hmm!" Zhao Wu nodded vigorously and ran with his two younger brothers toward Zhao Er Lai's house. In the village, there were distinctions between close and distant relations—he had to check on Er Lai Zi first!

This year, heavy snow fell incessantly.

The season had long been without sunlight; even washing a piece of underwear took five or six days to dry, leaving an unpleasant sour smell. If cotton clothes got wet with snow now, wearing damp garments would surely lead to illness.

Wang Shi recalled hearing elders speak of a massive earthquake many years ago that spanned two provinces. The cities at the epicenter suffered countless casualties, while surrounding areas were also struck by horrific devastation.

Collapsed buildings claimed innumerable lives. With official manpower severely lacking, many who might have survived never received rescue, forever buried beneath the rubble.

But that wasn't the worst of it. Disasters show no favor to rich or poor. Some impoverished commoners, unaffected by the disaster, seized the opportunity to loot extensively, plundering wealthy families and amassing sudden fortunes.

Officials were overwhelmed, scrambling to allocate part of their forces to suppress looters, leading to a critical shortage of manpower. Unrecovered corpses, left buried for too long, rotted and were gnawed by rats.

In the end, a plague more terrifying than the earthquake spread wildly.

City lockdowns, executions, corpse burnings... Desperate higher-ups eventually issued orders to seal entire cities—both infected and uninfected—inside, setting them ablaze, turning them into living hells.

At this thought, Wang Shi shuddered violently.