Chapter 36

“On March 27th, rainfall in Longnan and the Yun and Yu regions reached 552mm. This round of rainfall is expected to continue until the night of the 31st…”

Over the next two days, the Yun and Yu provinces of Longxia were completely transformed into flood disaster zones.

“This is terrifying…”

While the nation watched the unfolding disaster, in an apartment building in Xin Xin Homeland, Jinghe, Song Xiaoxin nervously followed the Yunyu news reports.

Song Xiaoxin, 27 years old, worked at an advertising firm and had attended university in Yun Province. For the past two days, she had been glued to the news from Yun, unable to shake the tight knot in her chest. After searching a few keywords, she found that her university had been flooded. Students were now huddled in the third and fourth floors of the teaching buildings, with no running water or electricity, surviving on biscuits and cold instant noodles.

She refreshed the news feed again and again, then opened the “Kunshan 3023” group chat.

“Wang Lujie, Si Xiaoman, Liu Chen… Did we miss anyone?”

“Zhao Xiaogang. @ClassRep.”

“Got it noted.”

Everyone in the group was carefully reporting in. Song Xiaoxin watched for a moment and then asked, “???”

The class rep replied with practiced ease, “We’re gathering volunteers for the Longnan disaster relief effort. Sign up if you’re interested.”

Various public welfare organizations had sprung into action during the extreme rainfall in Yun and Yu. The Longxia Volunteer Association had issued a call to prepare for relief work. The 3023 group consisted of Kunshan University alumni. Though they’d graduated five years ago, everyone was thinking of their alma mater.

Song Xiaoxin asked, “How long is the volunteer term?”

“Three days to half a month. We’re civil volunteers, so the final assignment depends on the Volunteer Association.”

There were already more than twenty people signed up in the group. Song Xiaoxin thought it over, then signed up too.

“Anyone else?” the class rep asked again.

“Me.”

“When’s the deadline? I’ll request time off from work.”

“I can go!”

More and more classmates responded and signed up.

…

“Mommy, I want to go home…”

On March 30th, under a torrential downpour, in Yuhezi Village, Huilong Town, a little girl trembled as she spoke.

A middle-aged woman pulled her close, “Just hang in there two more days. We can go home the day after tomorrow.”

Today marked the fifth day of rainfall in Longnan. Since March 27th, the villagers had been gathered at the village headquarters. The building had three floors. Now, the ground floor was ankle-deep in water. The village secretary was leading people to block the doors and keep the water out. Over a thousand people were crowded into the second and third floors, packed so tightly that everyone felt an overwhelming sense of despair.

“Mom, my hand itches.” The girl scratched the back of her hand.

“We’ll put some iodine on it once we get out,” the woman said, full of worry.

Outside, the storm raged. At some point, red dots had begun to appear on the girl’s back. She had asked the village doctor in the morning—this was a skin infection from contact with acid rain.

There were now seven or eight people in the village headquarters showing red spots. Acid rain wasn’t contagious, but the fear was spreading.

The little girl continued to sob. Zhao Fengxia, seeing this, handed over an orange. “Here, let the child have something.”

“Thank you.”

The village headquarters had enough supplies, but mostly staple goods like rice and flour. After five days of acid rain, there was no shortage of food, but clean drinking water was running low…

Zhao Fengxia chatted with the woman for a while, then took out her phone.

There were three missed video calls. She called back.

“Mom, how are things over there?” As soon as the video connected, Liu Xiaoyuan’s face filled the screen.

“We’ve got food and water, just the bathroom is a bit of a hassle.”

“Let me see Grandma.”

Zhao Fengxia moved the phone aside.

The elderly woman was resting against the wall. Seeing Liu Xiaoyuan, she waved, “I’m fine, girl…”

Liu Xiaoyuan finally felt at ease.

They chatted for a bit before ending the call.

At the dormitory of the University of Finance and Economics, the others gathered around Liu Xiaoyuan, asking, “Everything okay over there?”

“All good,” Liu Xiaoyuan shook her head.

Though she said it was fine, she couldn’t stop thinking about the cramped room she’d just seen—people squeezed so tightly together they could barely turn over.

Her mother had said that half the village’s houses were already flooded. Their own home was on higher ground, so not completely underwater, but the floors and furniture were probably ruined.

“Well, at least everyone’s safe,” her roommate sighed.

They had complained before about how the government was overreacting, but now, acid rain had come just as suddenly as the warnings said—on a catastrophic scale…

As they chatted, one roommate suddenly exclaimed, “Check the trending topics!”

Everyone opened their apps.

Trending headline: [Drone Footage: A Mountain Village Under Acid Rain]

Dashan Village was located in the southern part of Annan City, Yun Province, with 20,000 mu of greenhouse vegetables and 30,000 mu of open-field vegetable farms.

Now, Dashan Village’s 30,000 mu of farmland had been swallowed by muddy floodwaters. The entire village looked like an ocean. Only a few greenhouses remained exposed. Plastic plants floated amid the flood, and under the gray surroundings, the scene looked like the set of a doomsday movie.

At the end of the video, a donkey struggled in the water, trying to cling to a nearby tree. But the current was too strong. Before it could make a move, it was swept away.

Another heavy rain fell. No one could be seen in the flood. The screen faded into murky silence.

“My heart can’t take this. Is the donkey okay?”

“Rain like that? No way it’s okay.”

“I just searched photos of Dashan Village from before. That beautiful farm is gone…”

The comments under the video turned to prayers.

But toward the end, one user asked quietly, “We should be okay here, right?”

We should be okay here?

A month ago, people might have confidently believed they were safe. But Ha’erma had crossed even the mighty Alashan Mountains… No one believed they were safe anymore.

“Damn, I’m going to the supermarket tomorrow to stock up.”

“I live on the 32nd floor. No way it’s flooding here.”

“You’re not worried the whole building gets blown over from poor construction?”

Panic spread online.

On March 31st, a new wave of hoarding began across the country. With the flood of shoppers, by midday, 70% of supermarkets were out of rice and flour. Instant noodles and canned meat were completely sold out.

On the afternoon of March 31st, Longxia’s Ministry of Agriculture released a statement: [Longxia’s supply reserves are sufficient. Residents are advised not to panic. Please continue taking precautions against acid rain…]

The news report first affirmed Longxia’s sufficient supply reserves, then proceeded to issue safety guidelines for residents regarding acid rain protection and hygiene. It ended with a stern warning: anyone taking advantage of the chaos to violate laws during the acid rain crisis would face double the legal penalties.

Under Longxia’s strict enforcement, though citizens across the country were anxious, society remained stable.

…

“The rain stopped.”

“Seems like it really stopped…”

…

As the entire nation watched closely, on the evening of March 31st, the rain in Longnan began to subside. By the morning of April 1st, it had completely stopped.

In Yuhezi Village of Huilong Town, Zhao Fengxia stepped outside in boots. It was the first time in five days she had left the Yuhezi team headquarters.

The headquarters stood on a hillside in the southern district. From the hilltop, she could see that half the village of Yuhezi had been submerged. Trees had fallen in chaotic directions, making their area seem like isolated islands in a vast ocean.

“Heavens above…” The woman who had shared her room came out and collapsed to the ground, sobbing.

She had been worrying about the pot of rice porridge on the stove. As the rain worsened, she stopped thinking about the porridge and began worrying about her electric scooter in the yard…

Now, as she looked toward her house, not even the roof was visible. Forget the scooter—the entire house was gone!

“This is suffering…”

“I put my savings book by the stove… no idea if it’s still there…”

…

More and more villagers emerged. After five days without washing their faces or brushing their teeth, they looked utterly exhausted.

Amid the heavy silence, the village chief came out of the headquarters: “Everyone register and confirm whether anyone is missing from your households. We must ensure that everyone is safe.”

The villagers were counted one by one.

After the final tally, not a single person was missing.

“Every member of the Zhao family bay is accounted for.”

“Everyone from Baijiazhuang is accounted for.”

“Everyone from Huzhuang is accounted for…”

…

Meanwhile, other villages were also reporting their numbers.

At 7 p.m. on April 1st, after individual verifications, the final numbers were released: across 5,200 towns in the provinces of Yun and Yu, the actual residential population totaled 132 million. Of those, 131,997,000 people had been reported safe.

The three missing persons had died during evacuation. The official website expressed deep sorrow over this result.

At 8 p.m., Longxia News reported the casualties from the disaster. While three deaths occurred in rural areas, because of the fluid population in urban areas, complete casualty numbers would be released two days later.

“Only three people out of 130 million?”

“Could there be underreporting?”

“The rain seemed really heavy—doesn’t feel like just three people…”

“This was under Longxia’s oversight. Any concealment would result in immediate dismissal.”

“Still feels unbelievable…”

…

After Longxia News announced the results, platforms like Weiwen, TreeCat, and short video sites exploded with discussion.

Longxia had started preparations for the disaster a month prior. But flood relief—especially dealing with acid rain—wasn’t as simple as lifting a finger. On the night of March 30th, rainfall in Longnan reached 612mm, the most severe flood in nearly a decade nationwide. Everyone had braced for heavy casualties. But now… it seemed like a miracle.

…

As domestic shock spread, Longxia’s disaster data also reached international audiences—

“A miracle belonging to Longxia.”

“Only three casualties out of 130 million—Longxia’s strong and effective preventative measures.”

…

Meanwhile, outside Mali, regions along global water-blue corridors were also experiencing varying levels of rainfall.

Most of this rain fell between March 25th and 31st. Despite Longxia’s early warnings, many regions still suffered large-scale casualties. Their governments had been preparing for deaths, so Longxia’s numbers shocked them.

“Are Longxia’s casualty numbers real?”

Harma Storm: “A clumsy lie.”

…

As more reports emerged, divergent opinions began to surface globally.

To some, it was a miracle born of early preparation and massive mobilization. But many still couldn’t believe it.

While the world debated, Longxia paid no mind. They had more important matters ahead: disaster relief.

This crisis wasn’t just acid rain—it was also the floods that followed.

Now, much farmland in Longnan had been damaged. Residents faced drinking water shortages, and vehicles and buildings were corroded…

Each issue would have to be tackled one step at a time.

What Longxia sought was not to boast of “only three casualties,” but to ensure from this point forward—not a single life more would be lost.