Chapter 109

“Name?”

“Zhao Fengxia.”

“Age?”

“Fifty-two.”

“Any history of respiratory allergies?”

“My throat’s not great. I used to have asthma.”

…

3:30 PM, Yunshui County Health Clinic. Liu Xiaoyuan sat across from the respiratory specialist, answering questions one by one. Just thinking about the past hour made her break out in a cold sweat. An hour ago, Zhao Fengxia had suddenly started coughing up blood—bright red, soaking tissues until they piled up like a small mountain.

It had been 7:20 AM when it happened. Liu Xiaoyuan called 120 first, then ran frantically to the neighbor’s house for help. The neighbors had a car, and once they saw Zhao Fengxia’s condition, they drove her straight to the county hospital. From Yuhezi Village to the county clinic was seventy li of winding mountain roads, and those seventy li felt like the longest stretch of Liu Xiaoyuan’s life.

Now, Zhao Fengxia was resting in a hospital room. After reviewing the test results, the respiratory doctor said, “It’s likely a recurrence of asthma triggered by a viral infection.”

“Viral infection?” Zhao Fengxia blinked in surprise.

The doctor gestured toward a stack of patient files nearby. “Heavy metal levels are off the charts lately. This kind of thing is becoming common.”

Half an hour later, Liu Xiaoyuan returned to the room with the payment receipt. Zhao Fengxia lay on the hospital bed with an oxygen tube under her nose. Beside her sat a middle-aged couple in their fifties.

“Uncle Zhao, Auntie Wang.” Liu Xiaoyuan greeted them. The couple were their next-door neighbors. If it hadn’t been for them keeping calm and taking charge, Liu Xiaoyuan wouldn’t have known what to do.

“How’s your mom doing?” Auntie Wang asked with concern.

“Her asthma flared up again. The doctor said we need to monitor her for a couple more days.”

“Her asthma’s really serious,” Uncle Zhao said with a click of his tongue. Zhao Fengxia had just fallen asleep, but earlier she’d been wheezing and coughing up blood—it had been terrifying to witness.

After chatting a bit, the couple headed home. Liu Xiaoyuan asked them to let Liu Xiaorui know that she’d be staying at the hospital for two days. Once everything was settled, she collapsed beside the bed like a lump of clay.

Liu Xiaoyuan dozed off with her head resting on the bedside. Worried something might happen to Zhao Fengxia, she woke up seven or eight times in three hours, only able to sleep again after confirming her mother was still breathing. Around 8 AM, she sensed movement by the bed. She opened her eyes to see Zhao Fengxia had just woken up.

“Yuanyuan?” Zhao Fengxia looked over at her.

“How are you feeling now?” Liu Xiaoyuan asked quickly.

“My throat’s much better, just a little swollen.” Zhao Fengxia remembered being brought to the hospital, but after the medication yesterday, her mind was still a bit foggy.

Liu Xiaoyuan immediately went to get the doctor.

The doctor prescribed some anti-inflammatory IV fluids. By the time everything was taken care of, it was already 10 AM.

“We won’t be able to make it to the watermelon field,” Zhao Fengxia said, suddenly remembering. They had planned to plant watermelon seeds in the field today.

“Forget the watermelon field. Look at what we’re dealing with right now.” Liu Xiaoyuan’s eyes turned red. She regretted not taking her mother for a check-up sooner.

As they spoke, a fit of heavy coughing came from the next bed.

They looked up to see a man in his thirties with tattooed arms sitting on the bed, holding an oxygen mask. He noticed their gaze and lifted the mask slightly. “Throat infection,” he said.

Through conversation, they learned that the tattooed man worked at a construction site in the county. His throat had been sore and swollen for a while. At first, he thought it was just inflammation and took over-the-counter pills for a week, but when it didn’t get better, he came to the hospital. The diagnosis: respiratory infection. He needed to be hospitalized for observation.

The man rambled on for a bit, then sighed. “Looks like we’ve all got Acid Rain Sickness.”

“My kid’s usually pretty healthy. No idea how he caught it.”

“Maybe he drank something unclean?”

…

The room they were in had four beds. When the other patients heard “Acid Rain Sickness,” they joined the conversation.

In February 3028, Harma Acid Rain made landfall in Mali. The harmful impurities in the rain lingered in the air, and for some people, inhaling it led to pharyngitis, asthma, and a host of other respiratory issues. The Shuilan World Health Organization officially named the condition “Acid Rain Sickness.”

Now, after two years of rampant spread, Acid Rain Sickness had become the most common illness worldwide.

…

“Longxia Weather Report: March 12 to March 15—Jinghe, Gan Province, and other central regions including Qin Village will experience Sandstorm conditions. Residents are advised to wear masks and take precautions against the dust.”

…

While Liu Xiaoyuan stayed at the hospital to care for her mother, on the morning of March 10, Longxia suddenly issued a severe Sandstorm warning.

Sandstorms are extreme weather events caused by strong winds carrying dust and sand. They are categorized into five levels: light dust, blowing sand, sandstorm, severe sandstorm, and extreme sandstorm. Ten years ago, northern parts of Longxia often experienced severe sandstorms. But after the government ramped up environmental controls, such weather had become rare during spring and summer.

On March 5, just as the first batch of watermelons hit the market, Longxia’s meteorological bureau detected a clash of cold and warm air currents in the central region. With large swaths of vegetation decaying, there was a high risk of a major sandstorm.

“All drivers, please wear masks and drive safely.” As soon as the sandstorm warning was issued, the Jinghe Public Transit Company sent out safety reminders to all drivers via the group chat.

“Received!”

“Got it!”

“Roger that…”

…

“There’s a Sandstorm on the 12th. Swing by the office after your shift to pick up a mask.” Wang Baogang, driver of the 602 bus, clocked in while chatting with his fare collector partner. The 602 was the longest bus route in Jinghe, running from Xining Village Station to Wang Family Courtyard Station, with eighty-two stops in between. A full round trip usually took over three hours.

“Haven’t seen a Sandstorm in five years,” said the fare collector, Xu Juan, making small talk.

Last year, reduced vegetation had already brought two minor dust storms to Jinghe. This year, it skipped straight to a full-blown Sandstorm.

Xu Juan thought for a moment and called home. She and her husband were in good health, but they lived with two elderly parents and a child, all of whom had mild asthma. She mainly wanted to remind them to wear masks during this period.

“Look at Yun Province—there’ve been a bunch of Acid Rain Sickness cases popping up lately,” Wang Baogang said, scrolling through the news on his phone.

Since the Harma Storm began, Acid Rain Sickness had become one of the most common illnesses worldwide. It wasn’t contagious or fatal, but the chronic sore throat and bronchitis it caused felt like a slow, grinding torture. And no one was sure if there were other long-term effects.

Longnan and Zhongnan had the largest forested areas in the country. Now, with vegetation corroded in both regions, the environmental differences between them had grown stark. Locals, unable to adapt to the changing conditions, had become the primary group affected by Acid Rain Sickness.

At 10 a.m., Wang Baogang pulled the bus into the station, where a crowd of passengers surged aboard.

“Move to the back, make some room!” Wang Baogang expertly maintained order.

“On March 11th, the Longxia Meteorological Bureau issued an orange alert, urging central regions like Gan Province and Jinghe to prepare for sandstorm conditions.”

“At 3 p.m. on March 11th, the Longxia Weather Observatory detected a super monsoon front…”

…

Over the next two days, the Longxia Meteorological Station issued multiple weather warnings.

“A man who’s never been through a sandstorm isn’t a true northerner.”

“I remember a few years back, you’d come home from a short walk covered in a layer of dust.”

“Now that the vegetation’s gone, I bet we’ll be seeing sandstorms every year.”

…

The sandstorm conditions were mainly caused by vegetation loss and desertification. In recent years, the term “loss” no longer sufficed—the situation had become a full-blown ecological disaster.

At the start of the year, many residents had already speculated that a Sandstorm was coming. So when the news broke, people felt a strange sense of calm, as if it had been inevitable. Calm or not, plenty of residents stocked up on masks and hats. With the constant reminders on TV, everyone started to notice how much gloomier the weather had become.

“Way too chilly,” Wang Baogang muttered on March 12th at 5 a.m., trudging into the office covered in dust. The forecast said 12°C—not exactly cold—but the wind on the road had been sharp and biting.

The first bus from Xining Station departed at 6 a.m. After clocking in, Wang Baogang headed to his bus to wait. At 5:50, Xu Juan boarded, bundled in a mask and hat.

As soon as she got on, she complained, “It’s freezing out there!”

She had biked to work, and the wind had scraped across her face like a blade. For the first time, she truly understood the difference between “cold” and “chilly.”

“Had breakfast yet?” After a bit of chatting, Xu Juan pulled a jianbing guozi from her bag.

“Already ate,” Wang Baogang replied, declining while glancing around.

Maybe it was the cold or the fog, but the buildings nearby were all shrouded in gray. He didn’t feel the Sandstorm yet—just a heavy fog.

Ten minutes later, the 602 bus officially departed.

Xining Village was on the outskirts of Jinghe, home to sprawling urban villages and newly built residential complexes. Most passengers were white- and blue-collar workers commuting into Jinghe.

“News says there’s a strong Sandstorm coming. Haven’t had one of those in years, huh?”

“I remember right after I graduated, they were more common. Things had gotten better these past few years.”

“Just when we finally got it under control, here comes another Sandstorm…”

…

Everyone on the bus was talking about the incoming Sandstorm.

Strong sandstorms weren’t ideal for going out, but as regular working folks, staying home wasn’t an option. After chatting for a bit, people turned to look out the windows. Just as they’d said, Jinghe hadn’t seen a major Sandstorm in five or six years. Some recent graduates from the south had never even seen dust storms before.

They stared intently outside. Visibility was low, with only a few pedestrians and cars on the road. Thick fog blanketed everything.

The bus moved along, stopping and starting, as the outside world gradually brightened.

“Looks okay so far,” said a passenger from the south, watching the scenery.

The weather was cool today. It looked gloomy outside, but not as terrifying as the news had made it seem.

“Even if the trees are dead, at least the trunks and branches are still there to block some of it. It’s not like a Sandstorm can just show up out of nowhere.”

“I heard Longbei and Gan Province have built shrub-based Protective Forests. Should help by next year.”

…

The passengers continued their discussion, but halfway through, they saw a gust of powerful wind sweeping in from the north.

It looked like something out of a disaster movie—a tornado of sand. As the wind approached, the air outside turned completely yellow-brown. Pedestrians clutched their hats tightly. A few plastic bags were whipped up from the ground. They even saw a petite girl clinging desperately to a tree.

The Sandstorm had arrived without warning. The weather flipped in an instant. For the first time, everyone felt the raw, overwhelming force of a raging sandstorm.