The old father, enraged, huffed and puffed, glaring at the boy with a fierce expression, as if ready to strike this rascal who had dared to touch his precious daughter.

“What are you doing here?!

What do you think you’re doing?!

Are you laying a hand on my daughter?!”

Storming over angrily, Song Xiangdong was about to confront Ye Chenchuan.

The boy, who had long since withdrawn his hand, remained calm and composed.

“Uncle Song, I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

You don’t understand?!

What the heck do you mean, you don’t understand?

Look at your sneaky hands! What were you doing just now?!

The old father, fuming, raised the kerosene lamp to take a closer look and suddenly froze.

Wait, what?

Just moments ago, this brat was standing really close to his daughter. But now, somehow, he was quite far away?

The old father, still huffing and puffing, was about to find fault with the boy when Song Jiandang, standing nearby, raised his hand and coughed lightly.

“Xiangdong, what are you doing?

The whole village is waiting for us!”

The old man thought for a moment about the parents, relatives and villagers waiting at the grain-drying yard. Like a mother hen protecting her chicks, he pulled his daughter close and threw one last glare at the boy, scolding,

“Daughter, stick close to your father. Keep your distance from that boy!”

Watching the old father puff and fume like an indignant rooster, Song Jiandang couldn’t help but shake his head and chuckle.

Ah, the joys of not having a daughter. Xiangdong, usually such a calm and clever man, completely lost his composure when it came to his little girl. He’d be ready to fly off the handle, clucking like a mother hen at anyone who came near her.

As for himself, with two sons at home, he’d have the pleasure of watching them marry other people’s daughters someday, no heartbreak from sending off a beloved daughter.

Song Jiandang grinned from ear to ear.

–

Song Wanyue obediently followed her father, when, in the darkness, a small hand gently squeezed hers.

Like a kitten suddenly bristling, the young girl glared at the boy, her soft, adorable expression a mix of surprise and embarrassment.

Ye Chenchuan’s lips curled ever so slightly as he trailed behind her.

As the group hurried along, they were almost at the grain-drying yard when another clap of thunder roared in the distance. In the blink of an eye, raindrops began to fall, rapidly intensifying.

Seeing the cold wind picking up around them, Song Jiandang shouted to the group,

“Everyone, hurry up!

The rain’s coming down hard again. Don’t waste any time on the road!”

The group quickened their pace, but before long, the raindrops had grown as large as beans, pelting them painfully.

Song Xiangdong shielded his daughter, while Ye Chenchuan and the others protected Grandpa Ye. Only Da Liuzi, poor fellow, struggled under the weight of Qin Rongrong on his back, drenched and miserable in the rain.

When the group finally reached the stone house at the grain-drying yard, the village officials and residents waiting inside were as anxious as ants on a hot pan.

From afar, Wang Dashuan spotted Song Jiandang’s group and rushed over, wringing his hands in excitement.

“Captain!

You’re finally back.”

“What’s wrong?

Why the long face?

What happened?”

Song Jiandang hurried into the house, sneezing as the cold wind blew in behind him.

“Oh no, Captain, you better get outside quick!

That old lady Qin is causing trouble again!”

Wang Dashuan’s face was scrunched up in frustration, looking like a wrinkled bun.

*What the heck?!

That old lady Qin is at it again?!*

Song Jiandang cursed under his breath.

“What’s that old hag Qin up to now?

Go!

Tie her up and toss her onto the cart!

We’ll deal with her later. For now, we need to get the villagers up the mountain.”

Wang Dashuan had been waiting for this command. With some help, they stuffed an old sock into Qin Granny’s mouth and threw her onto the cart.

On the cart, the old lady glared, squealing like a pig. When Qin Dahai saw his mother tied up, he rolled up his sleeves, ready to fight Wang Dashuan.

But Wang Dashuan, like a young bull, made quick work of Qin Dahai, leaving him bruised and swollen. His wife, Li Erhua, was about to start wailing in protest, but seeing the state of her husband, she dropped to her knees in terror.

“My goodness, my goodness…”

Li Erhua was too scared to say anything else. Watching the scene, Song Jiandang, busy organizing the village lads at the grain-drying yard, thought Li Erhua was about to throw a tantrum. He called out, ready to have her tied up as well.

Hearing that, Li Erhua immediately sprang to her feet and scrambled far away, her agility bringing laughter to the exhausted villagers, lightening their spirits.

In no time, the villagers had gathered their belongings. Song Jiandang, holding a megaphone, scanned the crowd from the platform, satisfied that most were ready. He then shouted through the loudspeaker:

“Alright, alright!

Is everyone packed up?

Don’t waste time. Keep an eye on your children, let’s head up the mountain!”

“Let’s go!

We’re all ready, Captain!”

The men in the village shouted back.

Outside, the rain poured down, the wind howled and a red tractor led the way, its engine chugging along. Behind it, ox carts and donkey carts trundled through the muddy country roads, leaving deep tracks.

Due to the evacuation, the village had also brought out the few cows and donkeys from the production team to haul the grain from the village warehouse.

In times of disaster, food was life itself.

To survive, they needed grain.

Even the Song family was assigned a donkey from the village.

Up front, the donkey pulled the cart, wheels creaking as they climbed the mountain. A large umbrella covered the cart, rain pouring down around it. Inside, Chen Juhua cradled her soft granddaughter, while nearby, the family’s pet fish, King Koi, hopped joyfully in its small white porcelain jar.

The old lady’s mind raced, calculating how long the family’s grain would last, how long the rain might continue and whether their house would withstand the floods. And her two grandsons, Wenxuan and Wenjie, who were reviewing for exams, would they be safe from this disaster?

Chen Juhua’s mind was filled with worries. Beside her, Liu Hongmei fretted over the safety of her own family.

Initially, Liu Hongmei had wanted to sneak off to her family’s Liu Village to check on them, but she was pulled back by her two sisters-in-law, Zhao Xiuying and Lin Yuehong. They assured her that messengers had already been sent to all the nearby villages and that her family must have prepared by now. It was too dangerous to go.

Though they meant well, Liu Hongmei didn’t see it that way.

Bah!

These two busybodies, the eldest and second sisters-in-law, always butting into her affairs.

They wouldn’t even let her check on her parents!

Liu Hongmei, fuming, kept rolling her eyes at Zhao Xiuying and Lin Yuehong, who were oblivious and asked loudly,

“Third sister-in-law, what’s wrong with you?

Got an eye twitch or something? Why are you blinking like a white-feathered chicken?”

Liu Hongmei, furious beyond words:

…

The journey to the top of Dahe’s rear mountain took the caravan over an hour through the muddy paths. Finally, in the dead of night, they reached the summit.

The mountaintop stood a hundred meters tall, with a few dilapidated temples that had long been abandoned. In the past, monks lived in the temples and the villagers would come to offer incense when something troubled them. But after the revolution, the monks left and the temples fell into disrepair.

Now, cobwebs filled the rooms and several doors had collapsed. But to the villagers of Dahe Village, this was no big deal.

They were here to escape disaster. Outside, it was pitch-black, freezing and pouring rain. Having any roof over their heads was a blessing.

Who cared about a few cobwebs?

Song Jiandang and the village officials, carrying torches, cleared out the cobwebs, while Zhao Xiuying, Lin Yuehong and the village women swept the temple’s few rooms clean.

Song Xiangdong and the young men hammered old cloth over the broken windows and lit a bonfire in the middle of the room, warming it up in no time. Soon, the villagers were laying out simple bedding on the temple’s stone floors.

The village children, half-frozen from the cart ride, immediately brightened up at the sight of the warm, dry bedding and began joyfully rolling around.

Chen Juhua, along with her three daughters-in-law, set up a few bedrolls. Zhao Xiuying, carrying several large bundles and Lin Yuehong, each with a quilt, made sure their children were snug and warm.

Song Wanyue, wrapped in a pink quilt like a chubby dumpling, nestled happily in Zhao Xiuying’s arms. Just as the family was settling in, a figure, drenched and disheveled, burst into the room, charging straight toward Song Wanyue.

“You wretched girl, you hurt me!”

Song Wanyue: ???