Chapter 95

Chapter 95

Pitter-patter, bean-sized raindrops hit the windowsill.

A fierce wind howled from the back mountain, its eerie, mournful wails lingering in the ears like the lament of wronged spirits, sending shivers down one's spine.

Zhao Xiaobao was awakened by her mother tugging on the quilt. The room was pitch dark. She opened her bleary eyes, her small body instinctively shifting inward, and called out softly, "Mama."

Mother Wang closed the window that had been left slightly ajar, muffling the sound of the wind outside. She took off her outer layer, reached over to tuck the quilt around her daughter, and said gently, "Mama was worried you'd be scared, so I came to sleep with you. How did the window get cracked open? I remember closing it earlier."

Zhao Xiaobao snuggled into her mother's embrace, breathing in the familiar scent and rubbing her cheek contentedly. "The room felt stuffy and uncomfortable, so Xiaobao opened it a little herself."

"It's cold at night; you can't sleep with the window open." Mother Wang patted her back, soothing her to sleep as she used to. Listening to the drip-drop of the rain and the howling wind, Zhao Xiaobao curled up in the crook of her mother's arm and soon fell asleep.

In the latter half of the night, the wind grew even stronger, blowing like a demonic gale, nearly tearing the roof off the kitchen.

Old Man Zhao, unable to sleep with the wind's noise, came out holding an oil lamp. Hearing scratching at the main door, he remembered Xiao Heizi was still outside. In such heavy rain, the doghouse likely offered little shelter, and even the eaves wouldn't be dry. He hurriedly opened the door.

Xiao Heizi, dripping wet, slipped inside, shaking water all over him. Old Man Zhao wasn't angry. He found a sack, rolled it into a bundle, and placed it behind the door as a temporary dog bed. After settling Xiao Heizi, he went to check the other rooms. The storerooms were fine, but the kitchen was leaking. He quickly knocked on his eldest son's door to wake him, and father and son fumbled in the dark to fetch a ladder and repair the roof.

If they didn't fix it, the kitchen might be unusable tomorrow.

Working in the dark was dangerous; a misstep could send one tumbling off the roof. Zhao Dashan didn't fuss over details, just patched it up well enough to stop the leaks. Soaked through, he was wide awake and barely slept a wink for the rest of the night.

By dawn, the rain hadn't stopped; instead, it poured even harder. Old Man Zhao's anxious heart could finally be said to have died. Even though he had anticipated it, when the dream became reality, it seemed there was nothing to do but resign himself to fate.

As soon as it was light, he threw on a rain cape and bamboo hat, rolled up his trousers, and trudged up the hillside in his straw sandals.

In the woods, small trees were bent double, leaves littered the ground, a complete mess. The larger trees stood firm, largely unchanged, but some old, brittle trees had been uprooted entirely, blocking the mountain path. The ground was covered in broken branches and fallen leaves, with barely a place to step.

Seeing this, Old Man Zhao felt a twinge of relief. Thankfully, they had cut down the trees behind the house earlier. With last night's demonic wind, if even one tree had snapped and crashed onto their roof, it would have been a disaster.

He moved aside a half-fallen tree blocking the path and wandered into the mountains. Along the way, he saw many broken trees, their leaves all blown askew in one direction. The sandy patch looked the same. The piles of branches they had stacked earlier were gone without a trace, the ground a chaotic mess. Old Man Zhao walked along, picking up debris as he went, the wind and rain pelting his face despite his bamboo hat.

...

Zhao Xiaobao sat under the eaves, watching the dense curtain of slanting rain. Xiao Heizi lay at her feet, letting out a long yawn. Both girl and dog huddled with their necks tucked in, faces expressionless.

Mother Wang and her daughter-in-law were tidying the kitchen. In the middle of the night, the thatch on the roof had been blown off by the strong wind, right in the center. The stove and cooking pot were full of water, and even the floor and firewood were soaked. The women had been wiping the stove, washing pots and basins, sweeping the floor, and replacing firewood nonstop since they got up.

A ladder was propped against the back courtyard. Zhao Sandi, wearing a rain cape and bamboo hat, was up on the roof making repairs, with Zhao Ertian helping to pass things. When Old Man Zhao came down the mountain, Zhao Dashan, who had gone to check the seedling fields, also returned.

Untying the string under his chin, Old Man Zhao stood at the courtyard gate. As his eldest son approached, he asked, "How are the seedling fields?"

"Draining them," Zhao Dashan replied, casually placing his hoe in the yard, letting the heavy rain wash off the mud. Murky yellow slurry flowed with the water out of the courtyard. "I'll keep an eye on the fields today. If the rain doesn't let up, we might have wasted our efforts and will need to start the seedlings over."

No one expected such heavy rain right after sowing the rice seeds. Just a few days ago, the experienced elders in the village had predicted clear weather. Who knew the heavens would change their face! When Zhao Dashan went to the fields, many men from the village were already draining water. At this critical time, dirt-poor farmers who depended on the weather for their livelihood couldn't sleep. Some had gotten up in the middle of the night to guard their seedling fields. But draining only prevented the fields from flooding; against continuous rain, they were helpless, forced to watch as the rice seeds were washed away.

Old Man Zhao also described the situation on the mountain: trees toppled, animal corpses littering the path, a complete mess.

After breakfast, Zhao Dashan shouldered his hoe and went back to the fields. Zhao Sandi, having finished repairing the roof, followed to help. Old Man Zhao took Zhao Ertian to clear the hillside, dragging back broken tree roots to discard in the yard and gathering branches to pile under the eaves for firewood once dried.

The rain was too heavy. Zhao Xiaobao wasn't allowed to go out and spent the entire morning idly sitting under the eaves playing with Xiao Heizi.

By lunchtime, the rain showed no sign of letting up; if anything, it seemed to be growing heavier.

Old Man Zhao went out and returned carrying two large fish and several small crucian carp. He tossed the waterweed on the ground and put all the fish into a bucket placed under the eaves to collect rainwater. Seeing his daughter sitting obediently on a stool, he smiled and said, "The river water has risen sharply. The traps caught fish in no time. Xiaobao, would you like some fish soup? I'll send your second brother to the neighboring village to buy some tofu to make tofu fish soup for you."

"Want fish soup," Zhao Xiaobao said slowly, moving to the bucket's edge. The big fish were as long as her arm; just two filled the bucket. The small crucian carp were tiny, barely visible. "Dad, can we not eat the small crucian carp? Put them in the fishpond to raise, and eat them when they're bigger."

"Sure, if Xiaobao wants to raise them, we'll raise them. Didn't Xiao Wu say he'd expand the fishpond when he has time? Dad will catch more fish for you to raise. Then you can catch them yourself whenever you want to eat fish." Old Man Zhao called out to his wife in the kitchen. Mother Wang responded, wiped her hands, went back inside to fetch a dozen or so copper coins, and handed them to him.

Old Man Zhao took the coins, first went to the storeroom, and brought out two more fish traps. "Your second brother is by the river. Dad's going now."

"Xiaobao wants to go too." Zhao Xiaobao quickly stood up, stamping her feet anxiously. "Don't want to stay home, want to go, want to go." Xiao Wu and the others had run off after lunch, saying they were going to catch fish by the river. She really wanted to go too, but Mama wouldn't let her.

"Xiaobao, it's pouring outside, and the path is slippery. Be good, let's play at home. See, even Xiao Heizi hasn't gone out." Mother Wang hurriedly leaned out from the kitchen, urgently signaling to her husband with her eyes to leave quickly and stop tempting the child.

Old Man Zhao pretended not to notice. He couldn't bear to see his daughter like this. Casually setting down the traps, he went to the storeroom to fetch her small rain cape and bamboo hat. "Let's go, come with Dad. What's the hurry? As if Dad would leave without you! Your mother worries too much. What could possibly happen? Our Xiaobao is very obedient, absolutely won't go near dangerous places, right, Xiaobao?"

"Mhmm," Zhao Xiaobao nodded vigorously in assurance. "Won't go near dangerous places, will stay far from the riverbank."

"That's Dad's good girl!" Father and daughter played off each other, exchanging knowing looks and secret smiles, chuckling happily.

Mother Wang had no choice but to tell him to watch their daughter carefully and didn't stop them.

Soon, two figures, one large and one small, walked through the rain and mist.

Zhao Xiaobao refused to be carried, walking slowly on her own. The path was slippery, so she walked on the grassy patches to avoid slipping.

Old Man Zhao slowed his pace. When he met villagers, he stopped to chat. Everyone was worried the rain had come at the wrong time. It looked like it wouldn't stop anytime soon, and the seedling fields were likely in trouble.

"Just hope this rain stops sooner. The river's risen, and draining isn't keeping up. Earlier, two families got into an argument over it, both holding hoes, looking really heated. Scared the people around them, who quickly pulled them apart," a villager sighed.

Old Man Zhao glanced back at his daughter, still dawdling along back there, and asked curiously, "What were they arguing about this time?"

"Everyone's afraid their seedling fields will flood. Water from the upper fields drains to the lower ones, and if the lower fields can't drain fast enough, people get anxious and tempers flare." The villager shook his head. "Everyone's fields are next to each other, and we all depend on the heavens. I don't know what there is to argue about. If it's really bad, just dig the irrigation ditch a bit wider. It's not that big a deal."

As they spoke, a man carrying a hoe and fish traps passed by. Right now, the village was both worried about the seedling fields and unwilling to miss a good opportunity. Heavy rain was perfect for catching fish; setting traps was almost a sure thing.

"Everyone's on edge." As his daughter approached, Old Man Zhao ended the conversation, clasped his hands behind his back, and continued walking.

Leaving the village, as far as the eye could see, almost every field ridge had a man in a rain cape and bamboo hat, hoe in hand, pacing back and forth. They had to keep watch. As the earlier man said, if the upper field drained water into yours and you didn't drain it out in time, your seedling field would flood, and the recently sown rice seeds would be ruined.

At the riverbank, Zhao Xiaobao was told not to go near the water. She obeyed, standing at a distance watching her dad crush snails and toss them into the fish traps, then stuff in some waterweed. He then walked along the surging river, found a spot with abundant waterweed, untied the rope, and with a toss, the trap swayed and disappeared beneath the water's surface.

He planted a wooden stake and stood up, clapping his hands.

"Dad, look, it's Xiao Wu and them." Zhao Xiaobao pointed not far away, where a group of boys were gathering snails by the riverbank. Dagouzi and the others weren't wearing rain capes, only bamboo hats. They crouched on the rushing riverbank, the turbulent water splashing over their feet. It looked very dangerous.

Old Man Zhao glanced over but didn't call out, lest he startle someone into falling into the river.

He walked along the bank. Zhao Xiaowu and the others spotted their grandpa, their faces breaking into sheepish grins as they instinctively moved further from the edge. "Grandpa, we caught quite a few crucian carp."

Zhao Xiaowu pointed to a bucket placed in the grass, where fish were thrashing vigorously. Old Man Zhao leaned over to look: five or six crucian carp, much larger than the few small ones he had just caught. He became interested. "You've had good luck! How did you catch them? Over where I set my traps, several came up empty. Finally caught a few, but they're only finger-length, not even enough to fill a tooth." He gestured the size; even those small ones he hadn't been willing to throw back, taking them all home.

"Just like this. Put crushed snail meat in the traps. There are lots of crucian carp here; every trap we pull has something." Zhao Xi said excitedly, "Grandpa, we agreed with Dagouzi to split them evenly. Right now, we can definitely get at least one crucian carp each. Let's have crucian carp soup tonight, okay?" Dagouzi's family, their family, Donkey and his brothers' families, and Er Lai, Gou Sheng, and Da Luo Bo's families... Oh, they needed to catch a lot more. Seven or eight fish weren't nearly enough to share.

"Oh right, I almost forgot, buying tofu." Old Man Zhao clapped his hands, took out the copper coins from his pocket, and handed them to Zhao Gu beside him. "Gu Zi, take this money to your dad. Ask him to go to the neighboring village to see if there's any tofu for sale. If there is, buy some and bring it back. We'll have crucian carp tofu soup tonight."

"Okay." Zhao Gu took the coins and went to the fields to find his dad, who had been called away earlier by Third Uncle to help.

Old Man Zhao also wanted to see how they were catching these crucian carp, and why they were all crucian carp and of decent size. He simply picked up his chattering daughter from above and set her down. As soon as her feet touched the ground, Zhao Xiaobao couldn't stay idle, picking up a rock to crush snails too.

When Zhao Gu returned, saying his dad had already gone, Old Man Zhao nodded in acknowledgment. Just then, he saw his eldest grandson pull the rope. As soon as the trap broke the water's surface, he knew there was something inside.

Sure enough, after clearing the waterweed, two crucian carp were seen crammed in the trap, struggling frantically. The kids cheered excitedly. Dagouzi held the bucket steady, Zhao Xiaowu tipped the trap's opening, and fish and snails alike poured into the bucket.

Dagouzi quickly covered it, leaving a small gap, and placed a rock on top to weigh it down. The whole sequence was done smoothly, clearly from much practice.

Zhao Xiaowu dumped all the leftover snail meat from the fish trap onto the ground, but he didn’t waste it—he picked up the snail meat and tossed it into the river. Then he added the fresh bait his aunt had smashed, just like before, without even changing the spot, lowering the trap right where it was.

A little while later, two more crucian carp were added to the bucket.

Old Man Zhao was suddenly in a bad mood. He couldn’t help but ask, “Is this how you catch fish?”

“Yeah,” Zhao Xiaowu keenly sensed a hint of anger from his grandpa. He stole a glance at the old man and cautiously explained, “Grandpa, we definitely didn’t go into the river. Look, my clothes are dry.” He tugged at his collar. Zhao Xiaobao, standing nearby, saw this and stretched out her grubby little hand. Her big nephew obediently bent down, and she touched his collar, then nodded firmly. “Dad, Xiao Wu’s clothes are wet.”

“…Little Aunt, I’m not wearing a raincoat, so they’re bound to get wet. Feel my collar—it’s dry.”

“Xiao Wu, your collar is all sweaty, so it must be wet too.” Zhao Xiaobao was convinced her big nephew wasn’t dry at all.

Old Man Zhao was feeling a bit defeated. He’d worked half the day and only caught two fish. If he didn’t change spots, his traps would come up empty, and he’d smashed who knows how many snails. But his grandson lowered his trap with absolute confidence, as if certain fish would swim right in—and he didn’t even bother moving it.

Why?! Those stupid fish!

He couldn’t take it anymore. Not wanting to leave his daughter by the river, Old Man Zhao scooped up his daughter, who was kicking and struggling, unwilling to leave. “Let’s go check our fields.”

“I don’t wanna go! I wanna catch fish, I wanna catch fish here!” Zhao Xiaobao thrashed wildly, but it was no use. Her dad carried her off to their own land.

The field ridges were narrow, muddy, and slippery. Holding his daughter, Old Man Zhao first checked their own seedling fields, then took a look at others’. In the end, a group of men stood together, sighing heavily.

Not good. They’d probably have to start the seedlings over.

“They all said it wouldn’t rain these days, but who knew it’d do the exact opposite? Not only did it rain, it poured,” said Li Dahe, barefoot, his hands resting on a hoe. His arms and legs were caked in mud. He’d spent a long time earlier digging drainage ditches in the fields. The rain was heavy—not only were the fields flooded, but water from the hills had started flowing down too, and the runoff was fierce. One of his fields was below the road leading out of the village. That one wasn’t a seedling field, but it was badly waterlogged. If they didn’t drain it, the ridge might collapse.

“My seedling field is done for,” said Zhao Sanwang. “It’s already flooded.”

He’d slept like a log last night and only realized it was raining when he opened the window in the morning. Although Wu Dazhu had helped drain his seedling field, the rain was too heavy. Wu Dazhu had several fields of his own to tend to and simply couldn’t keep up. By morning, Zhao Sanwang’s rice seeds had already shifted a bit. After another half-day of increasingly heavy rain, there was no saving them.

Old Man Zhao looked at his own seedling field—it wasn’t much better. His eldest son and the others had been draining water and clearing ditches nonstop, so it wasn’t flooded, but the rain was just too heavy. The downpour washed over the rice seeds, and even if they’d been firmly planted, these freshly sown seeds couldn’t withstand such a beating.

Worry hung thick in the village. When people saw each other, before even speaking, they’d open their mouths and let out a sigh.

By evening, aside from a few households still toiling on the field ridges in the rain, most had given up. They simply went to the storeroom to open grain sacks and pick out new seed. This year had gotten off to a bad start—not a good omen. Fortunately, last year was a bumper harvest, and they’d recently exchanged grain, so the storeroom was now piled high with sacks. With full bellies and full granaries, they had peace of mind. They could still hold on, barely.

Losing one batch of seed wouldn’t kill them.

They’d managed to buy tofu and caught quite a few crucian carp. The children divided them up, and in the end, each family got three—two big ones and one small one. Very fair. For dinner, they had crucian carp stewed with tofu and spicy fish slices. Unlike the anxious villagers, Old Mrs. Wang and the other women were in decent spirits, even feeling a sense of grim resolution. The dread of a sword hanging over their necks was unbearable. Now, at least, they could be sure a major drought was definitely in the cards for this year.

Zhao Xiaobao carefully held her bowl of milky-white crucian carp soup, sipping with great care, afraid she might swallow a missed fishbone.

“Xiaobao, how many days will this rain last?” Old Man Zhao couldn’t help asking his daughter.

“Don’t know,” Zhao Xiaobao shook her head honestly. She’d only dreamed of heavy rain, not how long it would last.

He sighed.

Staring at the muddy yard, Old Man Zhao let out a deep sigh. He wasn’t in the mood to eat. Putting down his bowl, he said to his sons, “Don’t sleep too soundly tonight. There’s no wind now, but I’m afraid the back hill might slide.”

“Got it, Dad,” the brothers nodded in agreement.

Even if they tried to sleep soundly, they probably couldn’t. They’d overlooked one thing earlier: they didn’t know how long this rain would last.

Worried about future mountain fires, they’d cut down the trees. But if the rain didn’t stop, the back hill was sure to landslide.

It had happened before, in other years—rain that wouldn’t let up, the mountain slope loosening and sliding down in a huge mass, crushing the woods. Though it was a bit far from the village, who could say for sure? It wasn’t something to gamble on. Terrifying.

The more Old Man Zhao thought about it, the more scared he became. He turned to his daughter and said, “Xiaobao, take your mom to sleep in the wooden hut tonight. The shrine is quiet, good for sleeping.”

“Mm-hmm,” Zhao Xiaobao nodded obediently.