Chapter 101

Chapter 101

As summer arrived, the village lads either ran into the mountains or jumped in the river.

The mountain forests were dense, shady and breezy, but still hot as hell, though still better than home, where it was stifling and muggy, and you'd sweat just sitting still. Going into the river was even better; the water was warm on top from the sun, but dip down a bit and it's still cool, making it the best place to escape the heat.

Zhou Santou was the first to notice the water level dropping, and he was the one to report it, hollering at everyone he saw.

"The holes I dug are sticking out of the water now."

"We gotta stop hauling water. If we keep at it, the river'll dry up, and we won't be able to swim!"

The kid, not getting it, figured the river was getting sucked dry by folks hauling water day after day, every household doing it. Even a dumb kid like him knew a dipper of water would run out eventually. Same with the river; every extra bucket the grown-ups hauled would drop the water a little. If the river got shallow, they wouldn't be able to swim and cool off.

"Santou, what'd you say?"

"Hey, you little brat, why ain't you got no clothes on! If you wanna flash your junk, do it in your own yard. What if some girl sees you?"

"Old Man Zhou, you gotta rein in your Santou. He's got no shame!"

Old Man Zhou was kicking back under a banyan tree, trying to cool off, with his water bucket and shoulder pole next to him. Other men were around, some squatting, some standing, nobody daring to sit on the stone stools—too damn hot, they'd burn their asses.

They were just shooting the breeze, even though hauling water was a nonstop chore, and the fields were drying up right before their eyes.

Nobody dared bring it up; whenever they did, they'd all just sigh. Old Man Zhou especially had two fields way out in the sticks, hardly watered, drying up first. He was already pissed, and now getting blamed for not raising his grandson right just set him off. Seeing his grandson running and hopping around barefoot on the hot ground just made him madder. He whacked the ground twice with his shoulder pole and yelled, "What the hell are you hollering about in this heat? You're driving me nuts! What holes you been digging? And where's your clothes? Ain't your family got clothes for you, or what? Running around the village buck naked like some beggar kid with no clothes?!"

Santou was used to getting chewed out at home, a real tough nut, and didn't give a damn. But seeing his grandpa squatting with a bunch of folks, including Old Man Zhao and his sons, he got both scared and hesitant. The Zhao brothers didn't see eye to eye with Zhao Xiaowu, but the village looked up to the Zhao family. He shuffled over real slow: "Yesterday, I dug some holes by the bank, right at the waterline. Today, they're sticking out."

He held up his hand, showing a length about half his palm: "Sticking out this much. Grandpa, you're all sucking the river dry. Stop hauling water! We still wanna swim!"

At that, he got smacked twice. Old Man Zhou raised his shoulder pole to whack him: "Stop hauling water? Then we'll all starve! Your dad and I bust our asses every day under this blazing sun, hauling water from the river to water the fields. You don't lift a finger, and now you tell me to stop hauling water! Did soaking in the river fry your brain? I'll beat some sense into you, you ungrateful little punk!"

Santou dodged, running circles around the others. Seeing Old Man Zhou meant business, and that thick pole could snap a kid's back, the others jumped in quick.

"Santou, what holes you been digging?"

"Don't lie. I just went to haul water, and I didn't see the water level drop. Don't say such bad-luck stuff. It's hot, and the fields need water." A Zhou family man grabbed Santou, shielding the dumb kid from his grandpa's beating. Running around naked was bad enough, but luckily the sun was brutal, and women and girls were hiding inside to keep cool, or else the family would've been in deep shit.

"I ain't lying, I ain't lying! The holes are sticking out. If you don't believe me, go see for yourselves." Santou struggled like crazy, but when he saw his grandpa's raised pole, he shut up real quick.

"If you're talking bullshit, you're getting a beating today!" Old Man Zhou pointed at him.

Arguments aside, this was scary. Nobody believed it, so they tossed down their poles and hauled Santou to the river.

Old Man Zhao followed. He'd noticed the water level dropping a while back, kept an eye on it while hauling water, and even marked it, but the marks were hidden, and nobody else had spotted them.

The holes Santou mentioned were like the bamboo sticks Old Man Zhao had stuck in, right at the waterline. Santou had dug a row of holes with his fingers, probably out of boredom while swimming and resting by the bank. They'd been level with the water, but now they were totally exposed, dried out from a day in the sun. Anybody could see that little holes like that, made by a kid's fingers, couldn't be dug in dry mud; you could only make 'em when the mud was wet.

The holes hadn't moved, so there was only one answer: the water level had dropped.

Santou wasn't lying.

Everyone stood by the bank, staring blankly at the sun-glaring river.

"How did we not notice the water level dropping while hauling water? This, this..." Li Laiyin's lips trembled. He couldn't help crouching down to reach for the water. It felt like the water he could easily touch before was now a bit farther. He leaned over, stretching down, and if someone hadn't pulled him back, he might have fallen in.

When hauling water, they just tossed the bucket in without bending down, and with their minds on the cracked, dry fields, they hadn't paid close attention to the water level.

"This ain't right. This situation ain't right." Old Man Zhou hadn't expected his grandson to be telling the truth. Seeing the receded waterline, he paced anxiously. "We've had droughts before, but what month is it? Even with this heat, the water level shouldn't drop. Could it be that it hasn't rained just here, but elsewhere too?"

The more he thought, the more panicked he got. He looked at Santou, who had jumped back into the river, and shouted, "Did you really dig those holes yesterday? You've always got restless hands, picking at the table during meals, poking holes in the quilt at night. You must have dug more than one hole in the river. You gotta be mistaken. This is probably from half a month ago!"

"I dug 'em yesterday!" Santou splashed in the water, defiant. "I'm young, my memory's good. Unlike you, Grandpa, who gets more forgetful every day. You forgot you left the hatchet under the eaves and blamed Auntie. You can't remember, but I can!"

Old Man Zhou was furious and wanted to hit him, but one was on the bank, the other in the river, out of reach. The anger in his chest turned to a chill when he saw the dried-out holes.

The hottest days of the year, the dog days, hadn't even arrived. He didn't dare think about what would happen if it hadn't rained elsewhere either, and the fields needed water every day. This river would become like a money box that only paid out, never took in, and would eventually run dry.

With this thought, he turned to Zhao Dagen, the most capable man in the village: "Dagen, what do we do? If it don't rain, what about our crops?"

"You haul water every day to water the fields, and you ask me what to do." Standing in the scorching sun was unbearable. Old Man Zhao couldn't take it anymore and moved to the shade. "Whether it rains or shines is up to the Heavenly Lord. I got no say in it. If I could control it, there wouldn't have been that heavy rain at the start of spring, wasting a batch of seeds and delaying the spring planting."

Old Man Zhou was speechless. He turned to Zhao Shanao.

Old Man Zhao found a stone stool in the shade, pulled up some dry grass to sit on, and wiped the sweat from his face with the hand towel around his neck. Seeing Zhao Shanao standing by the river like an old tree stump, his back bent almost to his navel, still hauling water with a pole at his age, his heart and mind on his few acres of crops, he thought for a moment. They were from the same clan, both named Zhao, and their families usually got along well. He finally said, "I noticed the weather was off at the start of spring. Didn't any of you notice? The river water wasn't cold then. My daughters-in-law would come back from washing clothes every day saying the weather was warm, the river water wasn't freezing. And remember when Da He's Dagouzi got beaten for swimming in the river? That boy also said the river was warm. Think about it: in previous years, when we were still wearing padded jackets, wouldn't the river be cold? But Dagouzi didn't even sneeze. He lay in bed for a day and still got a spanking from his grandpa."

"Think carefully. Have your wives mentioned this?"

Once he said it, they remembered. Their wives had mentioned it!

At the start of spring, the weather hadn't warmed up yet. The kids were mischievous, getting their clean clothes dirty in no time. In previous years, their daughters-in-law would chase them around the yard with a stick. The river water was icy cold, making washing clothes hard on the hands.

This year was different. They hadn't heard them complain about the cold. They hadn't thought much of it at the time, but now, hearing Zhao Dagen say it, they all came to their senses.

Before a major disaster, there are always warnings. It was a bit of hindsight, but the year of the earthquake, people said the chickens were restless, the dogs were barking, and the birds were fluttering. They felt the animals were agitated, but living at the foot of the mountain, no one took it seriously.

The river water in early spring felt like early summer. Heaven had given them a sign, but they still hadn't paid attention.

An old man slapped his thigh, anxious and helpless: "No wonder it got hot early, and it hasn't rained. Could it really be a drought this year?"

"If it don't rain, of course there'll be a drought." Zhao Shanao sighed. "Heaven is trying to take people. Every year's unsettled. I thought this year would be peaceful, but it seems I was wrong."

He sat down heavily next to Old Man Zhao, glanced at him, and said earnestly, "Dagen, now I understand why you're making carts. But let me say this. You and I are old, we've seen a lot. We've had hot days like this before, and we've gotten through 'em. Our ancestors fled here. It's in the family records. Hundreds of people, related by blood, fled together, and only a few dozen survived. Listen to me: don't take that step unless it's absolutely necessary. We're surrounded by mountains. Even if the river dries up, there are springs in the mountains. We won't die of thirst. Even if the harvest fails, we can dig up tree roots to survive until next year. This place is remote, but it won't starve us. But once we leave home, leave the village, step onto unfamiliar ground, we'll be like leaves floating in the air, not knowing where to land."

It was both advice and a warning. He could see Dagen's thoughts now, clearly.

But it was a difficult matter. One wrong step could cost the whole family their lives.

They were just ordinary peasants, generation after generation tending a few acres, raising children, marrying 'em off, building houses, expanding backyards. They had finally taken root and sprouted here. They couldn't just give it up so easily.

They weren't wealthy families with endless silver, able to buy land, fields, and houses anywhere. Others could start over, but they couldn't!

So what if there was a drought? he thought. As long as there was still water in the well, even if the crops died, as long as the people survived, it was fine.

Heaven wanted to take people, but there was a limit. If they could just endure this, everything would be fine. Then the house would still be there, the land would still be there, the people would still be there. The next year, they could continue farming, and life would go on as usual.

"Shanao's right. It ain't time to flee yet." Li Laiyin chimed in. "Dagen, don't take this the wrong way, but I really think you wasted your money on that donkey. You got many men in your family, many mouths to feed, and even more half-grown boys. You'd have been better off using that silver to buy more grain. Whether there's a drought or not, as long as the granary's full, nobody starves, and everything's fine." What he really wanted to say was that Dagen saw the wealthy families leaving and spent money on a donkey to follow 'em, not realizing they were leaving to continue their comfortable lives, unable to endure hardship.

They were different. They were peasants used to hardship. Why run?

Droughts had happened before.

Knowing the villagers were following his family in making carts, these old men had been worried. Old Man Zhao looked at the boys swimming in the river and said, "Have you considered that if it never rains, not only will the river dry up, but the well water will also dry up, and even the mountain springs might dry up? Then, even if you got grain, what then? Without water, can you cook? When you're hungry, will you swallow raw grain?"

"People need water, and so do the animals in the mountains. I ask you: if the animals lack water, will they come down the mountain? We're surrounded by mountains. A famine won't starve us, but every place has its pros and cons. I ain't even talking about tigers. If just a few wolves come down, what will the village do?"

"Do you think I'm acting on a whim, telling Dashan and the others to make carts?"

"Brother, you're right. Our ancestors struggled, lost many clansmen on the road, just to find this place to settle and thrive. We've survived, and it ain't easy. We should cherish our lives even more. The ancestral house and fields are important, but not as important as the lives of the whole family..."

Before Zhao Shanao could speak, Old Man Zhao reached out to stop him and continued, "I know you're going to say things aren't at their worst yet. We're all getting on in years, we've seen plenty. But a man's gotta live for today, plan for tomorrow, and watch out for the day after. My youngest daughter is still small, so as her father, I can't just focus on the present. I'll tell you straight up—if this year truly brings a great drought, and once people outside start fleeing, I'll take my family and run. I don't care whether you all run or not; I'm definitely going."

If only he hadn't been unable to get a travel permit, he would have fled long ago.

He was uneasy. They thought the wealthy families were migrating because of the drought, but he knew that wasn't the whole story—at least, not just that.

He feared something big was about to happen in the prefectural city. Those big shots had gotten wind of it early, which was why they were selling off their land and property to run.

Unfortunately, they didn't have the connections to dig up any useful info. This whole thing was like steaming human flesh buns under a wooden lid—the wealthy families were the first to catch the scent, realize something was wrong, and bolt immediately.

But they were too far from the stove. Not only could they not smell it, but by the time the butcher's knife fell on their necks, they'd become the filling without even knowing what had happened.

That wouldn't do, Old Man Zhao thought. He didn't want to become the filling. He needed to run too, and fast.

Now all he needed was the right moment to make a run for it—a time when they could leave without a travel permit and no one would catch them.