Chapter 81 Sweeping Water
Xiong Zixiang rushed into the rain and did not return home that night.
Zhang Yixin should have been resting, but lying on the kang (a heated brick bed) in his own little house, he couldn't fall asleep no matter what.
The sound of rain outside, sometimes heavy, sometimes light, tapped on the roof, and also on her anxious heart.
In Liujiawa Village, north of the county... a mountain collapsed... burying people... Zixiang went to rescue them...
Walking the dragon is extremely dangerous, and the rain is still falling; a slight misstep could...
She dared not think any further, feeling a tightness in her chest. She tossed and turned, her mind filled with images of Xiong Zixiang carrying corn through the mud, his feet sinking deep into the mud, and the fleeting glance he gave her as he left.
In the latter half of the night, the rain seemed to have lessened, becoming a light drizzle.
She was just drifting off to sleep when she was jolted awake by a clap of thunder.
The sky was just beginning to brighten, but the rain suddenly intensified!
The crashing against the roof was unsettling to hear.
"What the hell is this weather!" Zhang Yili cursed, her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly put on her coat, slipped on her shoes, and rushed to the door.
Pushing open the door, a wave of dampness hit me.
In the courtyard, a shallow puddle reflected the hazy sky.
Even worse, the shallow drainage ditch at the base of the courtyard wall was completely blocked by mud and rotten leaves! The water couldn't drain out and was about to overflow the threshold and into the house!
"Stop pouring, it's really bad."
Zhang Liuyi spat out a curse, then, disregarding everything else, turned around, grabbed a large broom from behind the door, picked up a piece of wood to use as a scraper, pushed open the gate, and rushed into the rain.
The icy rain instantly soaked her trousers and shoes, making her shiver and more alert.
She first tried desperately to poke the blocked ditch with a wooden board, which washed away some of the mud and rotten leaves, but the water still wouldn't drain properly and stubbornly accumulated in the yard.
She gritted her teeth, bent down, and swung the large broom to sweep the water away forcefully.
There was plenty of water; once you swept away a puddle, new rainwater would quickly replenish it.
She swept the water away, rainwater trickling down her neck and into her clothes. The oil lamp had long since gone out, and in the dim morning light, she was the only one struggling against the floodwaters that filled the yard.
The gate to the neighboring courtyard creaked open.
Aunt Feng was wearing a worn-out raincoat and carrying a broom, with her young son, Shuanzi, following behind her.
Shuanzi rubbed his eyes, holding a small lantern, its light swaying in the rain.
"Watch out!" Aunt Feng strode over, her voice drowning out the rain: "I can hear some noise in your yard, what's wrong? Is water flooding in?"
Zhang Liuyi straightened up, wiped the rain and sweat from his face, and smiled wryly: "That's right! Auntie, the drainage ditch in my house is blocked, and the water is almost flowing into the house!"
"This damned rain!" Aunt Feng spat, turned and yelled at Shuanzi, "What are you standing there for! Are you blind? Why are you as clueless as your father? Go back inside and get the shovel! I'll keep an eye on you while you shovel the mud!"
Shuanzi exclaimed "Hey!" and quickly ran back, soon carrying out a shovel.
Without saying a word, Aunt Feng picked up a broom and started sweeping quickly and efficiently next to Zhang Xiaoli.
Shuanzi, meanwhile, silently used a shovel to shovel away the mud and water that had accumulated in the corner of the wall, throwing it out to a lower spot outside the courtyard gate.
The three of them worked silently in the rain.
With help, the water went down faster.
As Aunt Feng swept, she muttered, "This rain is so strange... I haven't seen it rain like this in years... If it keeps soaking like this, my mud-brick courtyard wall is probably going to crumble into dust..." She sighed.
As Zhang listened, his heart sank even lower.
After a lot of effort, most of the water in the yard was finally swept away. Although rainwater was still pouring in, it was no longer flooding the threshold.
All three of them were exhausted, soaked in sweat, and panting heavily.
Aunt Feng put down the broom and, using the morning light, carefully examined Zhang Xiao's pale face. She said with heartache, "Oh dear, you girl, look at your face! You didn't sleep all night, did you? Come inside quickly. Shuanzi, go home and get a bowl of the warm cornmeal on the stove. Pick out the hot ones!"
Shuanzi ran away immediately.
Zhang Yili quickly waved his hand: "Auntie, really, it's not necessary! I'll just grab a bite at my uncle's house..."
"Deal with what?!"
Aunt Feng glared at him and said, "Your uncle's house might be flooded too, so we can't worry about you. Stop talking nonsense. I've cooked a big pot of porridge. It's not like it's anything special. Hurry up and come inside, or you'll catch a cold!" As she spoke, she shoved Zhang Yi.
Just then, Shuanzi came running back carrying a large, rough porcelain bowl. The bowl contained steaming cornmeal porridge, thick and sticky, with bits of scallion oil floating on top.
Aunt Feng took it and forced it into Zhang Xiaoli's hand.
"Here! Eat it while it's hot! After you finish, lie down on the kang and take a nap! Zixiang isn't home, if you ruin yourself, he'll be furious with his aunt when he gets back."
Holding the heavy, steaming bowl of porridge, Zhang Liuyi felt a warm current rush from her palms to her heart.
Her nose tingled with emotion, and she whispered, "Thank you, Auntie..."
"No need to thank me! A close neighbor is worse than a distant relative!" Aunt Feng waved her hand and urged Shuanzi, "Here's a lamp for you to keep watch and light the way!"
Zhang Liuyi carried the bowl back to the house, sat on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), and sipped the porridge slowly.
The cornmeal, cooked until it was a soft porridge, dispelled the chill and eased my tense heart a little.
After eating, I felt sleepy.
She had just finished cleaning the dishes and was about to lie down when the door was pushed open again.
Aunt Feng came in carrying a sewing basket and plopped down on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed): "Go to sleep, don't worry about me."
She picked up a half-finished shoe sole, threaded the needle, and said, "I'll sit here and finish sewing the sole for a while. You can sleep peacefully."
Zhang Yili was taken aback, her eyes welling up with tears.
She hadn't been neighbors with Aunt Feng for long, but she never expected that Aunt Feng would stay by her side like a mother during a time like this.
"Auntie, I'm fine..." she wanted to say.
"Shut up!"
Aunt Feng looked up and glared at her: "Look at your eyes, they look like they've been smeared with soot! Lie down right now! If you keep dawdling and don't sleep, I'll prick you with a needle!"
Though his words were harsh, his eyes were gentle.
Knowing he couldn't refuse, Zhang Liuyi responded softly, "Yes, thank you, Auntie."
She lay down and closed her eyes.
The "shh...shh..." sound of Aunt Feng's needle and thread cutting through the thick fabric was monotonous, yet it had an indescribable sense of peace and security.
Her heart, which had been pounding all night, slowly settled down with the sound of that voice, and she fell into a deep sleep.
I don't know how long I slept, but in my hazy state, I heard someone outside shouting at the top of their lungs. The voice pierced through the rain and sounded extremely urgent: "Heads of the household! Meeting at the ancestral hall! Quick! Elder Sun is banging the gong! Hurry! Something terrible has happened!"
Zhang Yi sat up abruptly, her heart sinking.
Daylight broke, but the rain was still falling, pattering loudly on the roof. Aunt Feng had left sometime earlier.
She quickly put on her clothes, slipped on her shoes, and got off the kang (a heated brick bed).
Pushing open the door, I was greeted by a continuous downpour and a wave of moisture.
There was Sun Qilao's grandson, Sun Xiaoman, wearing a straw hat and soaking wet, banging on doors from house to house until his voice was hoarse.
"Meeting at the ancestral hall! Quick! The village chief is ringing the gong! Everyone, head to the ancestral hall!"
Many men in the village, already wearing straw raincoats and bamboo hats, were hurrying towards the ancestral hall, their faces ashen and grim as if covered in frost.
Zhang Liuli knew something serious had happened, so he didn't dare to delay. He locked the door, grabbed a straw hat, and followed after them through the mud.
The ancestral hall was packed with people.
Most of the men were squatting or standing, smoking their pipes, the air thick with smoke.
The women crowded at the back, whispering amongst themselves, creating a suffocating atmosphere.
Zhang Liuli tiptoed through the crowd and spotted her father, Zhang Dashan.
"Father!" Zhang Yili squeezed through the crowd with difficulty, squatted down next to him, and called out softly.
Zhang Dashan looked up at the sound. He saw it was Zhaoyi, and his brows relaxed slightly, but then he frowned again: "You're here? Has Zixiang come back?"
Zhang Liuyi shook his head, his voice low: "No, Dad. Right now... I guess he's still looking for someone in Liujiawa."
She recalled Xiong Zixiang's departing figure, and her heart ached again.
Zhang Dashan sighed heavily after hearing this.
Zhang Dashan looked at his daughter's pale face and said, "Your face is... ashen. Go back and get some more sleep."
"She's asleep." Zhang Liuyi forced a smile, trying to comfort her father: "It's just... she didn't sleep well. The rain was loud, and she was preoccupied with something, so she kept tossing and turning."
She didn't mention being woken up by thunder or sweeping water, afraid that her father would worry even more.
"Sigh!" Zhang Dashan sighed again, and reached out his rough hand to gently pat her back.
You've always been a worrywart, just like your mother... You're a sensitive soul, dwelling on even the smallest things and never sleeping soundly.
Mentioning his deceased wife, Zhang Dashan's eyes dimmed for a moment, then he looked at his daughter with heartache: "Look at your face, you're as thin as a candle flame. Listen to your father, once this is over, go back and rest. Zixiang has also worked hard, you need to get enough sleep to be able to help, okay!"
"Alright, go back and sleep, Dad. Anyway, we can't go to the shop these next few days. Listen to what the elder has to say and then go back."
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