Chapter 37

At 9 a.m. on the morning of April 2nd, Song Zixin stepped down from a large red truck. Besides herself, eight other young men and women wearing vests got off with her.

“This is Xiaojiakou?”

“Not what I imagined at all…”

They stood at a crossroads. A gas station was nearby, and all around were trees toppled and leaning.

Song Zixin looked around.

On March 30th, she had signed up in a group chat. After filling out forms, answering questions about her availability, and going through a series of steps, she was assigned to the Longnan 117 Volunteer Group. Now that the rain had stopped, she took the high-speed train to the provincial capital, contacted the volunteer agency, and was dispatched here.

“Hello, are you the Longnan 117 Volunteer Group?” While everyone was sizing each other up, a middle-aged man in a raincoat walked over.

“Hello! I’m the volunteer team leader, Zhang Yu…” One of the volunteers stepped forward to introduce himself.

After introductions, the man in the raincoat said, “The town government has prepared hot water. Let’s rest in town for a bit.”

The man in the raincoat was Wang Dabin, mayor of Xiaojiakou Town, and he was in charge of flood relief efforts here.

Everyone followed Wang Dabin to the town hall. When the eight volunteers arrived, the lobby was already crowded with flood victims—some napping, others caring for children. The hall was chaotic.

The volunteers followed Wang Dabin upstairs.

Due to limited space in the government building, two offices had been converted into male and female dorms. The volunteers were told to rest there for the time being.

After a brief break, they gathered their belongings and went to their dorms.

In the girls’ dorm, Song Zixin changed into a raincoat provided by the town and looked out the window.

To the south of the town was a large dam holding over 5,000 cubic meters. Townspeople and flood-relief soldiers were now digging trenches, trying to divert the water.

As she watched, a round-faced volunteer walked up beside her. “Those are rescue soldiers from Su Province. I heard they came as soon as the rain stopped.”

Xiaojiakou had 130 rescue soldiers on site. Since the rainstorm had hit the entire region, other areas had also deployed varying numbers of flood-relief teams.

“Longxia’s really done a good job,” said Song Zixin, impressed by the government’s early warnings about harvesting and storing food.

They chatted for a while. The round-faced girl complained, “I just came on a whim. I wanted to wear a red vest and post on my Moments, but I didn’t expect it to be this tough here…”

Her name was Qiao Yuanyuan, a third-year student at Luo Hai University of Economics and Trade. With a light course load, she had signed up for the Longnan volunteer recruitment after seeing it in a group chat. She joined partly out of curiosity—but everywhere in Yunyu was dirty, humid… and now she was regretting it.

Half an hour later, the mayor knocked on the door. “This is Platoon Leader Zhao. He’ll be assigning your tasks.”

Platoon Leader Zhao was a soldier in his forties. With time tight and duties heavy, he got straight to the point: the volunteers were to help in the back kitchen with cooking.

“I don’t know how to cook…” Qiao Yuanyuan muttered in frustration.

Ten minutes later, they arrived at the back kitchen.

Vegetables and potatoes were piled in basins on the floor. Qiao Yuanyuan was appalled. “We’re just going to eat this?”

It wasn’t exactly dirty, but it was extremely disorganized.

An older woman cooking over a stove said, “We don’t have enough water to wash the vegetables. These were picked early from local farms…”

The volunteers looked into the basins. Though there was some dirt, the vegetables didn’t seem too bad.

And so, they began helping with chopping and prepping.

At 5 p.m., the big pot meals were carried out into the courtyard, where villagers lined up for dinner. By 8 p.m., the villagers repairing the dam and the flood-relief soldiers returned. After dinner, everyone went straight to sleep in the hall.

Over the next two days, the volunteers continued cooking duties.

“Sister Song, I want to go home.” On the third night, Qiao Yuanyuan broke down a little. She missed home, her tablet, her laptop.

“The channel’s been cleared. Once the water in the dam drains, we’ll be able to go.”

Song Zixin scratched the back of her hand. Though the floodwater had been diluted, it still contained large amounts of sulfur dioxide, nitrogen dioxide, and other substances. These weren’t visible on the surface, but long-term exposure was harmful in many ways.

Qiao Yuanyuan cried for a while, then video-called her family.

Song Zixin hung her raincoat outside and opened the 3023 group chat.

“The school’s first floor is flooded. The big circular arch collapsed.”

“No casualties. Teachers and students are temporarily staying in the upper floors.”

“The government delivered supplies this afternoon, but drinking water is still really difficult…”

…

People from different schools assigned to the city were all reporting on the situation over the past two days.

Basements of parking garages and underground malls were still half-submerged. The city’s focus was now on resettling disaster victims and coordinating the pumping of floodwater.

Song Zixin scrolled for a while. A classmate posted pictures: “This is awful. [Photo] [Photo]”

[Photo]: A storm drain overwhelmed by floodwater. Three rats floated nearby, belly-up, with some blue trash bags beside them.

“Ugh!”

“I can’t look at this.”

“My whole body feels numb.”

“Don’t want to see, don’t want to think about it.”

…

Everyone felt sick.

This was just a common scene after acid rain.

One sensitive classmate asked, “What about all the stray cats and dogs? Are they okay?”

No one answered.

From the 27th to the 31st, rainfall was at its peak—at one point reaching high enough to submerge first-floor homes. The number of casualties was still uncertain. As for the stray animals, no one knew.

As online discussions about the Longnan disaster raged on, Song Zixin fell asleep with worry.

The next morning, she and a few others followed the soldiers into the villages to volunteer. Xiaojiakou was surrounded by mountains, and because of the rugged terrain, many villages still had old-style earthen houses. Now, the villagers were grieving as they sorted through ruined furniture and appliances.

Song Zixin jumped down from the truck. Before her lay a loquat orchard. The trees and some young fruits had been knocked to the ground. A few fruit farmers were numbly picking up the fallen fruit.

Wading through the water, Song Zixin walked over and stared in surprise at the yellowing crabgrass on the ground. “Why’s it all turned yellow?”

Platoon Leader Zhao explained, “It’s likely been corroded by acid rain. Can’t photosynthesize anymore.”

Acid rain is extremely harmful. It corrodes soil and strips the waxy coating from green plants.

“What happens if they can’t photosynthesize?”

“They die.”

Song Zixin looked again at the foxtail grass. Acid rain leaches nutrients from the soil. The foxtail grass was the first to show signs. If the acid rain seeps deeper, it’ll be the vegetables and crops next…

She felt a little sick. “Is there a way to fix it?”

“Don’t know.”

They were in a place called Honghe Village. After chatting for a while, they began helping the disaster victims move relief supplies.

Song Zixin worked until five in the afternoon. Just as she was about to rest, she realized someone was missing.

“Where’s Qiao Yuanyuan?” she asked.

“Think she’s at the south entrance of the village.”

Following a villager’s direction, Song Zixin walked over and found Qiao Yuanyuan holding a little boy with dirty hands and a dusty face.

“This is a game console. You can eat mushrooms in it and play whack-a-mole…”

The boy was seven, looking nervously and timidly at the console.

After demonstrating for a bit, Qiao Yuanyuan handed it to him. “It’s yours.”

Then she turned and headed back toward the main group.

“What happened?” Song Zixin noticed her red eyes.

Qiao Yuanyuan choked up. “I just asked… Yazi’s dad fell during the evacuation. They still haven’t recovered his body.”

Three villagers had died in the flooding. The boy’s father was one of them.

After delivering the supplies, they returned to the Xiaojiakou government offices.

Perhaps because the situation in Honghe Village was so devastating, Qiao Yuanyuan didn’t complain about the volunteering conditions anymore.

Over the next two days, she worked with the others to sort and distribute disaster relief supplies.

On the morning of the third day, Song Zixin and the others prepared to leave. The floodwaters had mostly receded, and the remaining work was focused on rebuilding—something they couldn’t help much with.

“Aunt Zhao, Uncle Wang, we’re heading out…”

“I left chocolate cookies on the table.”

“Come visit Hang City sometime.”

…

They said goodbye to the villagers one by one.

In the middle of the farewells, Wang Dabin led a middle-aged woman into the courtyard. “Is Qiao Yuanyuan here?”

“Yes.”

“This is Yazi’s mom.”

“She brought back your game console. Yazi’s too young to know better—he can’t keep something this valuable.”

The woman pulled out a gray cloth bag. Inside was the game console and half a bag of green loquats.

“These were picked last month when we rushed the harvest. Some are still astringent—boil them with rock sugar when you get home…”

“I can’t accept this!” Qiao Yuanyuan quickly refused.

“Take it, it’s okay.” The woman pushed it into her hands and hurried away from the town office.

“Mayor Wang…” Qiao Yuanyuan looked to Wang Dabin for help.

“It’s a gift. Just accept it.”

Seeing no way to decline, she could only hug the bag of loquats as she got on the bus.

Now that water service had been restored in Xiaojiakou, they transferred from a cargo truck to a coach bus.

After settling the loquats, Qiao Yuanyuan suddenly burst into tears.

“What’s wrong?” Song Zixin was startled.

“I just realized—Yazi’s mom had mud all over her legs, and there’s still no road between Honghe Village and Xiaojiakou…” It was only eight li (about 4 kilometers), but the mountain paths were tough. She could picture Yazi’s mom carrying loquats, walking the whole way step by step.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Song Zixin said, pained herself.

They weren’t the only ones. After a week in Xiaojiakou, the other volunteers also had red eyes.

Qiao Yuanyuan cried for a while, then looked out the window.

The rice paddies on both sides of the road had turned into ponds. Tree tops poked above the water’s surface, and even the distant green hills looked murky.

She opened her social feed.

Before leaving, she had imagined this moment countless times—wearing a red volunteer vest, taking pictures of supplies, snapping shots of rescue scenes, posting dramatic captions about the hardships of relief work.

But looking through her phone’s photo album, all the bits and pieces of the past week, she couldn’t bring herself to post any of it.

After a moment, she took a photo of the flooded rice fields out the window and posted: Hope for safety. Peace for all. [Image][Image]

She didn’t want attention. She just hoped everything would pass, and everyone would be safe.

On April 9th, the bus arrived in downtown Kunshan.

Now that transportation in Kunshan had returned to normal, the volunteers headed home one after another.

Song Zixin didn’t go home. She went to Kunshan University.

There used to be a thirty-meter-tall arched building at the campus entrance. Now it had collapsed, and many of the surrounding trees had withered.

She walked around the campus. Many students were fully geared up, carrying kettles and basins to collect water at the main water station. Though they looked exhausted, their energy was still evident—they were young.

In the cafeteria, Song Zixin had a bowl of rice noodles. Just as she was about to head to the airport, she heard a meow.

She followed the sound and saw a white old cat. Its tail and hind legs were balding, but its eyes were bright and spirited—it looked okay.

Two girls were feeding the cat sausage.

“Huzi?”

Song Zixin asked, surprised. This was the campus celebrity cat. It had been around since her student days.

“You’re an alum?”

The two girls looked up.

From their conversation, she learned that during the heavy rains, the school had flooded. Huzi hadn’t escaped in time and had to hide on the wall in the South Campus. As the water rose, half its body was submerged.

Through wind and storm, Huzi held out for three days.

Eventually, the flood rescue team saved it.

Huzi was a nine-year-old cat. It had survived, but who knew if there would be lasting effects from the acid rain…

“People have tried to adopt it, but it never stays,” one of the girls said, nose red with emotion.

Huzi had a temper. Students tried taking it back to the dorms, but it always ran away. After all the attempts, it ended up remaining a free-roaming campus cat.

This time, a student who regularly fed it tried again. Huzi escaped the very next day.

“Meow!” Song Zixin took the sausage from the girls and tried feeding the cat.

Huzi stepped forward and started eating.

She looked at its tail, both happy and sad. Happy it was alive. Sad it had ended up like this.

Caught in these conflicting emotions, one of the girls suddenly said, excited, “Look! It’s trending!”

Song Zixin opened her phone.

Trending topic headline: [Donkey from Dashan Village, donkey fights the flood! [Image][Image]]

Song Zixin immediately recalled that on March 30th, “Drone footage: Dashan Village under acid rain” had trended once before. At the time, a donkey had been swept away by the floodwaters, and the scene was so harsh that many netizens prayed for the donkey. And now… has the donkey been found?