Chapter Eighty-Eight: Returning Home

Xiong Zixiang slept soundly for a long time.

He didn't wake up until it was bright outside and the dazzling sunlight shone through the gaps in the window screen.

My eyelids were still a little heavy, but the sweating had finally cleared the fog from my head, leaving only a dull ache.

His limbs were still a little weak and limp, as if he had just run dozens of miles of mountain roads to investigate a case.

He tried to move, but he didn't have much strength left.

"Awake?" Zhang Xiaoyi's gentle voice sounded from beside the bed.

Xiong Zixiang turned his head and saw Xiaoyin sitting there with a bowl of steaming porridge in her hand, her eyes bloodshot.

"Hmm..." His voice was still a little hoarse as he tried to sit up.

"Don't move!" Xiaozhu quickly put down the bowl and reached out to press his shoulder. "Your fever has just subsided, you're still weak. Drink this bowl of porridge first to fill your stomach." As she spoke, she picked up a spoon, scooped up a spoonful of warm porridge, blew on it, and brought it to his lips. "I'll feed you."

Looking at Qingying, who was watching intently, Xiong Zixiang knew she must have stayed up all night, and his heart felt both warm and bittersweet. He obediently opened his mouth and drank the porridge. The porridge was cooked until very soft, with a slightly salty taste, soothing his empty stomach.

"You should get some sleep..." he swallowed his porridge, but couldn't help saying it.

She glared at him and shoved the spoon into his mouth again: "You have the energy to talk now? Finish your porridge first! The doctor said your illness is caused by overwork. Once your heart fire is released, your body will collapse. Don't think about anything these next few days, just rest well."

After finishing a bowl of porridge, I finally felt a bit warm and had some strength.

Watching the figure carefully clearing away the dishes, Xiong Zixiang closed his eyes but couldn't help saying, "You should lie down for a while after you're done..."

“Okay, I’ll wash the dishes and then lie down to rest,” Xiaoyi replied, lowering her voice. “You should take a nap too, we’ll… go home this afternoon.” At noon, Dazhuang pulled the cart, carrying the two families and all their belongings, and creaked and groaned as it drove away from the county town, embarking on the road home.

The wheels rolled over the muddy, still-wet country road, leaving deep ruts.

The fields on both sides of the road presented a shocking sight.

What should have been lush green farmland is now a scene of devastation.

In the low-lying areas, there are still puddles of murky mud and water. The seedlings that were submerged and scattered by the flood are stuck in the thick silt, already withered and rotten.

The field ridges were washed away, the ditches were silted up, and as far as the eye could see, there was only yellowish-brown mud and withered crops.

Everyone on the bus remained silent as they watched this scene.

Mrs. Song and Aunt Wang kept sighing, calculating the losses to their own land.

Xiong Zixiang leaned against the cart, his face still pale, looking at the devastation, his heart heavy.

Notice the person sitting next to him, holding his hand tightly, silently conveying strength.

The closer you get to the village, the louder the voices become. The familiar old locust tree at the village entrance is still there, but its crown has been torn apart by the strong wind, and its trunk is covered with a thick layer of mud.

Upon entering the village, the walls of almost every household's courtyard, near the ground, were soaked by the flood, leaving a clear watermark line.

Below the waterline, the original blue brick or adobe walls were stained an unsightly brownish-brown by mud and water, and were covered with mud, grass clippings and various debris washed in.

Above the waterline, the original colors remain: the bluish-gray of the blue bricks and the earthen yellow of the adobe bricks, forming a glaring dividing line.

The cart stopped at the entrance of the Liu family's courtyard.

The gate to the courtyard was crooked, and the door panel was covered with mud.

Pushing open the door, I found the courtyard in a complete mess.

The once flat ground was now covered with a thick layer of silt, and one could sink half a foot into it with a single step.

The bamboo pole used for drying clothes has fallen over, and the chives planted in the yard are withered and leaning precariously.

The house was in even worse condition. The mud left behind by the receding floodwaters was half a foot thick, and even the kang (a heated brick bed) was covered in it. The tables, chairs, and benches were all crooked and covered in mud.

"My God..." Song stood at the door, looking at the scene, tears welling up in her eyes.

Old Xiong and Zhang Dahe also gasped in shock; this was even worse than they had anticipated.

"Don't just stand there!"

Zhang Dashan was the first to roll up his sleeves: "Clear the yard first! Shovel the mud out! Xiulan and Zijuan, keep an eye on Xiaonan and Xiaobao, don't let the kids step in the mud!"

Everyone then seemed to wake up from their daze and began to take action.

Zhang Dashan and Old Man Xiong picked up shovels and began to work hard to remove the mud from the yard.

Zhang Dahe went to find a bucket to fetch water for rinsing.

Song and Aunt Wang then began to tidy up the still usable household items in the house, moving them one by one to the yard to wash.

The two mothers found a place to sit, one in each arm, watching their children.

Seeing everyone busy, Xiong Zixiang also wanted to get a shovel to help.

"You stay put!"

With quick eyes and hands, she grabbed his arm and pressed him down onto a relatively clean stone stool by the door: "You've only just recovered from your illness, why are you showing off? This dredging work is so tiring! Just sit here, help pass things around, and watch the livestock!"

Looking at Xiao Yi's stern face, Xiong Zixiang knew he couldn't persuade her otherwise, so he had no choice but to sit down.

"Then I can watch the child, right? That way, my sister and sister-in-law can also free up some hands to help with other things."

After glancing at Li Xiulan and Xiong Zijuan, who were holding the child, he reluctantly nodded: "Okay, just make sure they don't run around."

Thus, Xiong Zixiang became the only idle person in this great undertaking.

He sat on a stone bench, watching his family members sweat profusely as they cleared away the silt.

She rolled up her trousers and joined the cleaning crew, deftly scrubbing the muddy pots, pans, tables, chairs, and legs with a brush and water.

Dredging is a physically demanding and time-consuming task.

The silt was shoveled up one shovelful at a time and piled up in the corner of the yard.

Bucket after bucket of water was poured on it, washing over the ground and walls.

Mud mixed with sewage flowed out along the base of the courtyard wall.

Other families in the village gradually returned, and the whole village came alive. Everywhere there were sounds of shoveling mud, splashing water, and moving things, mixed with adults calling out to children and neighbors asking each other questions.

"Where's Brother Liu Ji?"

While washing the dishes, I looked up and asked a question.

Her cousin was among the first to return with the yamen runners, and should have been home long ago.

"Don't even mention it!"

Zhang Dashan straightened up and wiped his sweat: "I was dragged away by Matchmaker Wang as soon as I entered the village! The crossbeam in the west room of her house got warped from the water and is probably unstable, so she sent Liu Ji to take a look! I reckon he's still busy at her house right now!"

Before he finished speaking, Zhang Liuji came hurrying over from the village road, carrying his carpentry tools. He was sweating, but full of energy.

As he passed by his own house, he saw the dredging work underway and didn't even stop: "Dad, Mom, save me a portion of dinner. I'm going to Li the Cripple's house first! The wall in his kitchen has been soaked by water and half of it has crumbled. We need to reinforce it quickly! Otherwise, we won't be able to cook anything!"

After saying that, he left in a hurry.

Sure enough, Zhang Liuji became the busiest person in the village.

If someone's roof beam is crooked, if someone's pillar is swollen from being soaked in water, or if someone's door frame is loose, everyone comes to him for help.

He didn't refuse, carrying an axe and saw, and carrying an ink line and ruler, he went from house to house without stopping.

The man shouted, "Mr. Zhang, come quickly and take a look at my window frame, it won't close!"

The family called out, "Brother Liu Ji, a few bars of the fence around my pigsty were washed away by the water. Can you nail them back together?"

The villagers were grateful to him. One family gave him a bowl of freshly made noodles, another gave him a handful of potatoes they had cleared out, and Widow Zhao even insisted on giving him a few boiled eggs.

Unable to refuse, Zhang Liuji accepted the gift with a smile, casually tucked it into his pocket, and hurried on to the next house.

Zhang Dashan was also someone who couldn't sit still. Seeing that his yard was almost cleaned up, he also simply set up a place in the house where people could sleep.

He washed his face, changed into clean clothes, and said to Zhang Dahe, "Brother, I'm going to check on Zhao Laoliu's pigsty. He sent word the other day that his half-grown pigs were startled by the water and are a bit listless. I'll go take a look and see if we can still bring them back."

He was worried about the shop's future business.

Zhang Dahe replied, "Go ahead."

Zhang Dashan then instructed Xiaoyu, "Xiaoyu, keep an eye on your sister-in-law and Zijuan, don't let them get tired. When Dad comes back, he and Uncle will clean up the mud at the base of the wall." After saying that, he strode away.

The villagers are all busy tidying up their homes.

The women were busy washing and drying clothes and bedding soaked by the flood, while the men were busy cleaning the mud from the yards and houses and repairing damaged houses and fences.

The children also thoughtfully helped by handing things over or picking up scattered items from the house.

Although it was hard work, everyone worked with great enthusiasm.

I watched as my own courtyard gradually revealed its true form, and then I looked at the wisps of smoke rising from the chimneys all over the village.

She turned to look at Xiong Zixiang, who was sitting on a stone stool. He was watching Xiao Nan'er and Xiao Bao playing in the mud on the slightly dry ground.

She walked over, picked up a ladle, and poured him a bowl of warm water: "Drink some water to soothe your throat."

Xiong Zixiang took the bowl, took a sip, looked at the mud-stained courtyard wall of his own house, then at the fields in the distance that were slowly recovering their vitality, and finally his gaze fell on her face, which was covered in mud but still looked beautiful.

He reached out and gently took her hand.

"It will be alright," he whispered.

She gently grasped his warm hand and nodded firmly, "Yes, it will get better."