The rain came down in torrents, pounding against the roof with a deafening clatter. Suddenly, a staggering set of footsteps sounded outside. It was Zhang Ming, one of the village’s older boys.
He was drenched from head to toe. Rainwater mixed with yellow-brown mud streamed down from his tangled hair, splattering his face until he could barely open his eyes. Squinting, he lurched forward.
He stumbled to the doorway and grabbed the threshold, but his feet slipped. His whole body went sprawling into the muddy ground outside.
“Something’s happened… Someone’s dead! Zhou Xiaomei… she was swept away by the river…”
Zhang Ming’s voice trembled uncontrollably, almost breaking into sobs. After shouting the words, he bent over and gasped for breath.
“Xiaomei?” The moment Aunt Zhou heard that, her heart clenched, and her legs went weak.
Wang Haiying and Old Man Zhou hurried to support her, barely keeping her from collapsing.
Although Aunt Zhou usually had little patience for Huang Meili and her children and disliked them no matter what they did, Xiaomei was her own granddaughter. They were bound by blood—how could she not be frantic with worry?
Everyone else in the room felt their hearts tighten as well.
“Everyone was catching fish down by the riverbank just now. Then the rain suddenly came down, and several people were swept away! Xiaomei’s parents have already gone after her downstream. Hurry and go take a look!”
Without a word, Zhou Zhijun grabbed the thick hemp rope and long bamboo pole stacked in the corner and rushed outside.
Zhou Zhiguo followed close behind. They ran in such haste that no one had time to bother with an umbrella.
Aunt Zhou and Old Man Zhou also hurried to follow, but their daughter-in-law, Wang Haiying, quickly stopped them.
“Ma, Dad, you’re both getting on in years. The rain’s too heavy, and the road is slippery. You won’t be able to help, and we’ll only have to worry about you too. Just stay here and wait for news!”
Holding her little grandson Zhou Xiaobao, Aunt Zhou stared at the torrential rain outside and wept anxiously, muttering over and over, “Please, don’t let anything happen…”
The villagers who had gone to catch fish by the riverbank had not yet made it back to the village. One by one, they huddled beneath a large locust tree beside the river to escape the rain, all of them drenched and muddy.
When they heard that Xiaomei had been swept away, their faces turned deathly pale. They began shouting for their own children, their panicked cries rising and falling all around them.
Zhou Zhijun and the others ran desperately along the dirt road beside the riverbank toward the overflow bridge. When they reached the downstream section, they saw Huang Meili sitting limp in the muddy water, as though her soul had left her body.
Her hair hung loose and plastered itself to her face and neck. She was soaked through, her face as white as paper, her eyes terrifyingly empty.
“Meili!” Wang Haiying hurried over and pulled her up. “Where are Xiaoying and Xiaohai?”
Huang Meili had cried herself hoarse. She could no longer raise her voice, and only a low, broken whimper came from her throat.
“It’s all my fault… It’s all my fault…”
The villagers gradually came running over as well. Some sobbed while calling their children’s names; others were so panicked that they could do nothing but stand helplessly by. The scene descended into complete chaos.
Village Party Secretary Zhou Dana had lost all his usual arrogance. His face was gray and ashen as he stared at the disorder before him, fear and panic churning in his heart. His hands and feet felt weak.
If this matter grew worse and someone truly died, he would have no way to answer to his superiors.
Forcing down his panic, he shouted, “Everyone, don’t panic! Don’t make a mess! All the able-bodied men in the village, follow them downstream to search! The old folks and children should go back to the village. Don’t stay here and get in the way or delay the rescue!”
Meanwhile, Chuntao shut the door tightly and sat on a stool in the main room, with one child perched on each of her legs.
Outside, lightning flashed and thunder boomed, while the downpour showed no sign of stopping.
Though it was the middle of the day, the sky was as black as night. Even the last faint traces of light inside the house had been swallowed by the darkness, leaving only vague silhouettes visible.
Nuannuan clung tightly to her, her tiny hands gripping Chuntao’s clothes. Her little face was buried against her mother’s chest, and she was too frightened to look up.
Suddenly, a thunderclap exploded over the roof. Nuannuan shuddered and burrowed even deeper into her mother’s arms.
“Ma, scared… Nuannuan… scared!” the little girl whimpered in a trembling, childish voice.
Chuntao immediately hugged her tighter and gently patted her back. “Nuannuan, don’t be scared. Ma’s right here. Ma will protect you.”
Jianshe, sitting on Chuntao’s other leg, was not frightened in the least. He kept squirming and trying to climb down, mumbling, “Dad… Dad…”
When Chuntao had heard that the villagers were catching fish, she had wanted to go see what was happening. But Aunt Zhou had been worried that she would overexert herself and had also been unwilling to leave the two children unattended, so she made Chuntao stay home and look after them.
At first, Chuntao had thought that the fish they had worked so hard to raise would surely be stolen by the villagers.
Even if the villagers did not take them all, the severe drought had left the river nearly dry, and the fish would eventually die anyway. All the money they had invested would go to waste.
She had never expected Heaven to send down such a heavy rain at precisely that moment. Now the water level in the riverbank pond was rising, and the fish were finally saved.
“Be good, Jianshe. Your dad went to the riverbank. He’ll be back soon.”
Chuntao tried coaxing him a few times, but Jianshe refused to sit still and twisted insistently in her lap. With no other choice, she set him down.
Jianshe toddled toward the door on his short little legs, pattering along as he went. He pressed his face to the crack in the door and peered outside, calling nonstop, “Rain-rain… Dad… Dad… come home…”
Still holding Nuannuan, Chuntao rose and walked over to the door. Just then, she heard hurried footsteps outside the courtyard.
“Chuntao—” It was Old Man Zhou’s voice, trembling with fear.
“Coming! I’m here!” Chuntao answered quickly.
She pulled Jianshe aside, slid back the latch, and opened the main-room door.
Old Man Zhou had only an old fertilizer sack draped over his shoulders to protect him from the rain. It was coming down so hard that he was still soaked through. Water streamed steadily from the hems of his clothes and trousers, pooling in a small puddle by the doorway.
He staggered inside and went to the narrow table in the main room. Picking up the matches, he struck one with trembling fingers and lit the kerosene lamp. Its dim yellow light barely illuminated the room.
Seeing him drenched and shivering so badly that his lips had turned purple, Chuntao hurriedly said, “Dad, go to the east room and change into some dry clothes. You’ll catch a chill!”
The moment Little Jianshe saw his grandfather, he grabbed Old Man Zhou’s wet trouser leg and looked up at him with a sweet smile.
“Grandpa!”
Aunt Zhou had been afraid that Chuntao and the two children would be frightened staying home alone during the thunderstorm, so she had sent Old Man Zhou back first through the heavy rain.
When he saw that Chuntao and the children were safe and sound, the worry weighing on his heart finally eased.
But as soon as he thought of Zhou Xiaomei being swept away by the river, his heart clenched all over again.
Forcing down his anxiety and grief, Old Man Zhou managed to squeeze out a smile at Little Jianshe and patted his head.
“Good boy. Grandpa’s going to change into some dry clothes. I’ll be right back.”
After changing, Old Man Zhou went to the kitchen to prepare lunch. When the food was ready, he carried it into the main room under an umbrella and set it on the table for Chuntao and the children.
Seeing that the rain outside showed no sign of stopping anytime soon, Chuntao said, “Dad, stay here and watch the children. I’ll take an umbrella to Ma and bring everyone back for lunch.”
“There’s no need for you to go. The roads are slippery. Stay here and watch the children—I’ll go!”
Old Man Zhou picked up the umbrella and went to bring Aunt Zhou and Zhou Xiaobao back. But Zhou Zhijun was the only one missing.
“Someone was swept away down by the riverbank… My sister Xiaomei was carried off by the water!”
As soon as he entered the room, Zhou Xiaobao looked at Chuntao and said in a trembling voice.
Aunt Zhou and Old Man Zhou had not wanted Chuntao to worry needlessly, but Zhou Xiaobao was too quick to speak and blurted it out, leaving them no choice but to stop hiding it from her.
“Zhou Zhijun took some people downstream to search for her. They still haven’t come back,” Aunt Zhou said in a low voice, her eyes red-rimmed.
Huang Meili and her family had often spoken ill of Chuntao behind her back and made things difficult for her.
But now, at this critical moment when life and death hung in the balance, Chuntao held no resentment toward them. Instead, she sincerely prayed that Zhou Xiaomei would be safe and sound, and that nothing would happen to her.
Chuntao sat in the room, clutching Nuannuan tightly in her arms. Hearing the faint cries and shouts drifting from afar, she felt her heart twist into a knot.
