Qi Fang and Guo Changping weren’t from the same work crew, so he didn’t know whether Guo Changping had shown up for work today.
But he did know that Guo Chang'an had limited mobility, and if Guo Changping and his wife Jin Baozhi weren’t home, Aunt Guo—a frail elderly woman—wouldn’t be able to move him alone. He also knew that if Yan Xue insisted on going, he wouldn’t be able to stop her.
So he said nothing, only gripping Yan Xue’s arm when she stepped into the floodwater.
When the couple had first gone up the mountain, the water had only reached their ankles. By the time they descended, it had risen to their knees.
They rushed to the Guo household as fast as they could, and sure enough, the front gate was still open.
“Aunt Guo, we have to go now!” Yan Xue hurried inside but heard no response from any of the three rooms.
She circled the house but found no one—not Aunt Guo, nor Guo Chang'an, who usually stayed indoors.
“Maybe they already left and forgot to close the gate?” She searched again, just to be sure.
Meanwhile, Qi Fang scanned the surroundings and immediately noticed something amiss. “Things are missing from here.”
Just as Yan Xue turned to look, he tugged her arm. “Come on, let’s check our old place.”
They waded through the water again, crossing the courtyard and pulling open the door to the main hall. Only then did they hear voices, nearly drowned out by the storm.
“This flashlight’s out of batteries. I’ll go back and find a couple more.”
That was Aunt Guo.
“No need. We’re almost done—just a few more.”
The strained voice, unfamiliar to them, must have been Guo Chang'an’s.
Yan Xue quickly stepped inside. “The water’s up to our thighs already. Why haven’t you left yet—”
Her words cut off as she froze at the sight before her.
On the same earthen bed where she and Qi Fang had slept for four months, four large boxes were now stacked, with a writing desk placed on top.
Both Aunt Guo and her son stood on the bed, Guo Chang'an half-leaning over the desk as he struggled to take a jar from Aunt Guo and place it on the surface with one hand.
For a moment, Yan Xue was speechless. When she finally found her voice again, it was strained. “How can you still care about these things at a time like this?”
Aunt Guo looked even more surprised than she was. “Didn’t they tell everyone to evacuate to the back mountain? Why are you here?”
“You knew about the evacuation? I came because I was worried Jin Baozhi and Guo Changping weren’t home.”
Yan Xue moved to climb onto the bed, but Qi Fang was already stepping up, taking the jar from Guo Chang'an’s hand and pulling him down with a mix of force and support.
Guo Chang'an instinctively resisted, only for Yan Xue to snap, “Are the mushroom cultures more important than people?”
She pulled Aunt Guo down as well. “Leave these things. Come with us now. Qi Fang, carry Chang'an on your back!”
Only then did Aunt Guo comply, quickly grabbing a small bag from the bed—clearly prepared earlier.
After locking the door behind them, they stepped out into the courtyard, where the water had nearly reached Yan Xue’s waist.
Qi Fang carried Guo Chang'an on his back, reaching back to pull Yan Xue along, who in turn steadied Aunt Guo as they moved as fast as they could toward higher ground.
Feeling the grip of the small hand holding hers, Aunt Guo couldn’t help saying, “You didn’t have to come back. We already set up a ladder—we were going to climb onto the roof once we finished.”
Guo Changping and Jin Baozhi really weren’t home. They’d taken their child to Jin Baozhi’s parents’ place when the rain had briefly stopped yesterday, only for the downpour to resume, stranding them there.
The neighbors likely didn’t know, assuming someone was home. By the time Aunt Guo went out to find help carrying Guo Chang'an, there was no one left. She couldn’t manage alone, and Guo Chang'an was stubborn, insisting he couldn’t make it to the back mountain but could pull himself onto the roof with one arm.
“We weren’t in a hurry to get up there anyway. Chang'an said your mushroom cultures couldn’t get wet, so we moved them higher. Didn’t expect you’d come running back.”
“If we hadn’t, what if the flood reached the roof?” Yan Xue hadn’t even considered the mushroom cultures.
She’d spent nearly half a year on them—buying agar, boiling it down—and they were her family’s livelihood. Losing them would be a blow. She’d have to start over next year. But no matter how important they were, how could they compare to people?
A sudden surge of water nearly knocked Aunt Guo off her feet as she stepped on something unseen.
Yan Xue tightened her grip, nearly losing her own balance in the process.
Qi Fang noticed immediately, grabbing her arm and pulling her back.
Just then, a flashlight beam cut through the darkness ahead. “The water’s waist-deep, and you two are still running around?” It was Liu Weiguo’s voice.
Seeing their struggle, Liu Weiguo rushed over to support Aunt Guo from the other side. “Hurry up. Yan Xue, your brother’s been asking for you.”
With support on both sides, they finally picked up speed, reaching higher ground where the relentless flood gradually receded—from their waists to their knees, then their ankles.
When they turned back from the mountain, the forest farm below had become a vast expanse of water, buildings standing like islands amid the rushing currents.
Liu Weiguo wiped rainwater from his face. “Everything’s flooded. Why’s the water so high this year?”
“Haven’t seen a flood this bad in decades,” Aunt Guo sighed. “Who knows how much damage it’ll cause.”
“As long as everyone’s safe,” Yan Xue said, her voice steady, devoid of despair.
At worst, they’d start over. As long as they were alive, they’d find a way to keep going.
“Let’s go. The others are waiting,” she said, taking Aunt Guo’s arm again while Qi Fang adjusted Guo Chang'an on his back.
As they approached the makeshift camp, a small figure darted out from under the shelter. “Sis! Brother-in-law!” Behind him was Second Old Lady, her bound feet unsteady in the mud.
“Running around in this rain?” Yan Xue scolded lightly.
The boy retreated under the shelter but stayed at the edge, his wide eyes fixed on her, brimming with worry.
“We’re almost there. I can walk the rest of the way,” Aunt Guo said, patting Yan Xue’s hand before reaching for Guo Chang'an. “Let him down.”
Guo Chang'an said nothing, but his legs slid downward, signaling his intent to walk. Qi Fang released him.
Aunt Guo steadied her son as they trudged through the rain toward the shelter. After a few steps, Guo Chang'an suddenly turned back. “Thank you.”
It was the first time Yan Xue had ever heard him speak to her. Her eyes curved into crescents in the rain. “Same to you. Thank you—and Aunt Guo.”
Outside, the storm raged on. Even under the oilcloth shelter, wind-driven rain still found its way in.
The group huddled beneath the makeshift covers. Those like Yan Xue and Qi Fang, who had brought small boxes, could at least take turns sitting on them. The rest had to stand.
Yan Jigang was still young, and Second Old Lady’s bound feet made standing difficult, so Yan Xue had her sit on a box with the boy in her lap.
She and Qi Fang stood side by side, watching the churning floodwaters below.
They say fire and water are merciless, but only when truly faced with them does one realize just how ruthless they can be, and how insignificant humans are in the face of natural disasters.
Yan Xue glanced at the man beside her, his handsome face dampened by the moisture, making him appear unusually quiet. "What are you thinking about?"
Qi Fang's gaze remained fixed below, his voice barely audible over the rain. "About the Yellow River and Chang'an."
This "Chang'an" clearly wasn't referring to Guo Chang'an. "You mean the ancient capital of the Tang Dynasty?"
"Mm." The man turned to look at her, reaching out to wring the rainwater from her hair. "Chang'an was also prone to floods."
Having served as the capital multiple times, Chang'an saw a surge in population, leading to severe deforestation and soil erosion. During the Tang Dynasty, floods were frequent. That was why Empress Wu Zetian later designated Luoyang as the "Divine Capital," and emperors often resided there instead of Chang'an.
In his view, today's flood was not just a natural disaster—human negligence played a significant role.
"Well, no one planted trees in Chang'an," Yan Xue remarked, a mix of complaint and playfulness in her tone. "Yet they make us go up the mountain for sapling cultivation, even in the rain."
The progress of human civilization has always come at the cost of environmental destruction—an unavoidable reality. Only after development and surplus resources do people begin to prioritize environmental protection.
Yan Xue remembered how, later on, heavily polluting factories were shut down, and environmental conservation became a key national focus, with massive funds invested annually in restoration efforts.
Qi Fang didn’t seem to react to her words. He simply looked at her before stepping back into the rain.
"What’s wrong?" Yan Xue called after him.
Qi Fang raised a hand, signaling her not to follow, and disappeared into the nearby woods. Soon, he returned carrying a large stone.
After rinsing the surface clean, he placed it beside the small crate where Second Old Lady and Yan Jigang were sitting. Glancing at Yan Xue, he said, "Sit."
He had gone to find her a seat. Surprised, Yan Xue’s eyes curved into a smile.
She shifted the stone slightly outward, sitting on one half and patting the other. "You sit too."
The stone wasn’t large, but with her petite frame perched on it, it suddenly didn’t seem so small. Qi Fang glanced down but chose to sit with his back to her instead.
Perhaps because the stone was too small, they ended up sitting close. Yan Xue could feel the warmth radiating through the fabric of his clothes against her lower back.
Unconsciously, she leaned back slightly, seeking more of that rare warmth in the cold, rainy night.
As if sensing it, Qi Fang straightened his posture and shifted back as well, allowing her to lean more comfortably against him.
Yan Xue tilted her head slightly, resting it against his broad back. "Now I realize being small has its perks."
If she were taller or closer to his size, she wouldn’t be able to enjoy this warmth.
"Mm," Qi Fang murmured, keeping still except for a light pat on her head.
While the four of them sat together, those still standing finally snapped out of their daze of worry, anxiety, and fear, beginning to search for stones of their own.
Before long, no more people arrived. Secretary Lang came to take a headcount and frowned. "Seven families are still missing. Didn’t we notify everyone?"
With the floodwaters so high and the night so dark, searching was impossible.
For now, he could only settle those already on the mountain and wait for daylight to continue the search.
The two to three hundred households of Jinchuan Forestry Farm huddled together under makeshift shelters, enduring the agonizingly long night.
By midnight, the rain had lightened, and exhaustion overtook fear. Some finally succumbed to sleep.
Seeing Second Old Lady tucking Yan Jigang closer, Yan Xue reached out. "Let me hold him for a while. You should rest."
But as soon as she took him, Qi Fang reached over. "I run warmer."
His embrace was indeed warmer, broader, and more reassuring. Yan Xue didn’t argue, and before she knew it, she too had dozed off.
Her sleep was fitful, filled with murmurs, footsteps, stifled sobs, and restless children. Outside, the rain never ceased. When she finally awoke, the sky was paling at the horizon.
"Looks like it’s clearing up," someone said with relief.
Yan Xue blinked, squinting like many others as she turned toward the lightening sky.
The thunder had stopped by midnight, but the rain persisted. Now, the oppressive clouds seemed to have cracked open, letting in the first rays of dawn.
Secretary Lang distributed biscuits and bread taken from the store the night before. "There’s not much, but it’ll tide everyone over for now."
The crate Qi Fang had carried out earlier contained a few flatbreads tucked in by Second Old Lady. Protected from the water, they were now shared to stave off hunger.
After a night in the open, the crowd had calmed. With the rain easing, Secretary Lang gathered a few strong swimmers to inflate tires and assemble makeshift rafts.
Seven families were still unaccounted for—they couldn’t just abandon them. Soon, the rafts brought back an elderly man and two children.
Some had stubbornly stayed on their rooftops, refusing to leave. Secretary Lang personally went to persuade them, managing to bring down a few more.
Two people remained missing, but with no leads, the group could only wait anxiously on the mountain for the rain to stop and the waters to recede.
By noon, sunlight began breaking through the clouds, and the floodwaters, once shoulder-high, gradually retreated.
By evening, the water had sunk below waist level, and the rain ceased completely. Secretary Lang studied the sky. "Everyone should head back. It shouldn’t rain again."
But no one moved. Last night’s terror lingered, the fear of reliving it too strong.
Yan Xue stayed put too, quietly tugging Qi Fang’s sleeve and pointing at the horizon. "Look."
Following her gaze, Qi Fang saw a vivid, beautiful rainbow.
"Isn’t it stunning?" Yan Xue’s eyes sparkled. "But without enduring last night’s storm, we wouldn’t see something so beautiful today."
She knew Qi Fang carried burdens, unaware that he only needed to wait seven more years. Hoping to ease his mind, she spoke these words.
But as Qi Fang looked at her, he found her eyes even more dazzling than the rainbow—irresistible, worthy of kisses and treasuring.
Alas, the time and place were wrong. Nearby, a wail pierced the air. "Our house—it’s been washed away!"
The couple turned to see Li Shuwu’s wife, beating her thighs in despair. "Where are we supposed to live now? And all our belongings—gone! Everything’s gone!"
The houses in Bawang Circle were warm, but their shallow foundations made them vulnerable to disasters. When the flood hit, some homes were completely washed away. Li Shuwu's family was among them—half their house had collapsed, leaving only half a wall on the side that hadn’t faced the flood’s direct impact, exposing the wooden supports inside.
The real problem wasn’t just rebuilding, since the forestry farm would approve timber for construction. It was the fact that with the house gone, everything inside had been lost.
It was truly devastating. Yan Xue glanced at them but held back from saying, "Weren’t you the experienced locals?"
Qi Fang, however, had no such restraint. "Good thing we didn’t rent their place," he remarked dryly.
Harsh. Li Shuwu’s wife was standing nearby and definitely heard him.
She did, but whether it was grief or the memory of her own sharp words to Yan Xue the day before, she stayed silent, continuing to sob.
Several other families had also lost their homes. Secretary Lang, assessing the situation, went around notifying everyone to inspect their houses upon returning. Those whose homes were still intact could stay; those whose weren’t would have to squeeze in with others. The last thing they needed was for the flood to spare them, only for their roofs to collapse.
The families whose houses were confirmed destroyed were temporarily relocated to the forestry farm’s guesthouse, a sturdy brick structure that had withstood the flood unscathed.
Exhausted and hungry, the group couldn’t stay on the mountain forever. As dusk fell and the floodwaters receded further, they gradually made their way back.
It was then that Yan Xue and Qi Fang’s decision to reinforce their house with an extra layer of bricks proved wise. Nearby, one house had collapsed entirely, another was cracked from the force of the water—but theirs stood untouched.
"Untouched" didn’t mean they had it easy, though. The flood had left behind thick mud that would take days to clean.
Then there were the broken items to replace, the soaked belongings to wash, and the waterlogged house itself, which needed thorough disinfection and airing to prevent mold.
Stones carried by the flood had shattered several windowpanes in Yan Xue and Qi Fang’s room. After some discussion, they decided to clear out only Second Old Lady and Yan Jigang’s room for the night, squeezing the whole family in. The rest could wait until the next day, when the water had fully retreated.
The one silver lining was their preparedness. Since the flood hadn’t reached the ceiling, many of their belongings, stored high up, had survived.
Qi Fang pulled down a quilt from the top of the wardrobe. Unfolding it, he found a dictionary, notebooks, a pencil case, and a small wooden gun tucked inside—Yan Jigang must have stashed them there at some point.
Under the amused gazes of his sister and grandmother, Yan Jigang flushed and quickly gathered his things.
But the waterlogged kang couldn’t be heated, making it unfit for sleeping. They layered clothes beneath them and managed to get through the night.
By dawn, the forestry farm was bustling with activity as everyone worked to clean up. Yan Xue finally had a chance to assess their losses.
The windows needed new glass. Plates and bowls were mostly shattered, leaving only a few chipped ones usable—more replacements to buy.
Thankfully, their valuables were safe in Qi Fang’s small chest, and their food stores, kept high up, had survived. Some families had already run out of food, and Secretary Lang was coordinating with unaffected neighboring farms to arrange supplies.
To Yan Xue’s relief, the tree stump mushrooms in the backyard had fared well under the shelter they’d built beforehand. Still, they’d been soaked and needed drying and a limewater disinfection to prevent contamination.
The same went for the areas where they grew wood ear mushrooms and the flooded parts of the house—all required lime disinfection. Yan Xue wondered how much of the fungal stock Aunt Guo and Guo Chang’an had managed to save.
Worried the Guo family might be short-handed, Yan Xue and Qi Fang hurried over after tidying up their own place.
As expected, Guo Changping and Jin Baozhi hadn’t returned yet—a mudslide had blocked the road between the forestry farm and Dahuan Village.
Ignoring the fungal stock for the moment, Yan Xue and Qi Fang helped Aunt Guo and Guo Chang’an clean their house. Only after finishing did they return to the rented cottage they’d once lived in.
This time, Guo Chang’an didn’t avoid them. Leaning on the wall for support and aided by Aunt Guo, he limped after them.
Broken mason jars, glass shards, and spilled sawdust littered the floor inside.
Qi Fang stopped the others from entering, first clearing a path with a shovel, especially for the glass. Glancing up, he said, "Most of them are fine."
Aunt Guo and Guo Chang’an had ingeniously propped a desk on boxes to elevate the jars. Aside from a few that had toppled or hadn’t been moved in time, most remained intact.
"You’ve saved me so much trouble," Yan Xue said, her eyes curving into crescents as she looked at Aunt Guo and Guo Chang’an.
Aunt Guo’s face brightened. "I’m glad we could help. I was afraid it’d all be for nothing."
Guo Chang’an, however, pressed his lips together before asking, "Are they still usable? The temperature definitely dropped below 22 degrees the night before last."
Aunt Guo grew anxious. "That’s right. With the heavy rain, we couldn’t keep the fire going."
"It’s fine," Yan Xue reassured them. "Lower temperatures only slow the mycelium’s growth; they don’t kill it. We can readjust later."
"That’s a relief," Aunt Guo sighed. Guo Chang’an, though, seemed deep in thought.
Noticing this, Yan Xue added, "Actually, wood ear mycelium is more sensitive to heat. If it exceeds 30 degrees, it might die, so we usually keep it between 22 and 28. The ideal is 25, but that’s hard to maintain, so I didn’t insist on it."
As they spoke, they began carefully lowering the jars. Keeping them up high was risky, and the Guos couldn’t spare their furniture indefinitely.
Despite his injured right hand, Guo Chang’an worked steadily with his left, silently assisting.
They’d just moved the desk outside when Guo Changping and Jin Baozhi rushed in, having hurried back without even bringing Tiedan.
Aunt Guo immediately bombarded them with questions: "Where’s Tiedan? Why didn’t you bring him? How’s Dahuan Village? Did the flood reach there?"
The couple quickly reassured her. "Dahuan Village is fine, and so is Tiedan. The road was just cleared—it’s still rough, so we left him behind."
Only then did Aunt Guo relax, recounting the events of the previous days. "We owe Yan Xue and Qi Fang so much. Without them, Chang’an and I would’ve been on the roof."
The couple hurried to express their gratitude.
"Don’t mention it," Yan Xue said. "Aunt Guo and Chang’an saved my fungal stock."
Though she downplayed it, the couple remained effusively thankful, clearly determined to repay the favor in full.
Yan Xue was about to head back inside to continue tidying up when she noticed Guo Chang'an leaning against the wall, slowly making his way out. She paused mid-step.
"If you really want to thank me, how about letting Chang'an help me with some work for a few days?"
Qi Fang: My wife is so beautiful, so kind—truly worthy of being my wife.
Qi Fang (alternate tone): Have you forgotten me by the Daming Lake so quickly?
