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Chapter 13
Around 9 PM, Zheng Feifei messaged Shu Fu to complain that she might have to spend the night at her company. At the time, Shu Fu was already lying in her soft, warm bed with the bedroom curtains drawn.
As the daily usage time for the floating island house came to an end, she decided to leave the raft as it was and waited for the countdown to finish.
When the timer hit zero, she suddenly felt the ground beneath her disappear and found herself falling from the house on the raft back into her living room.
It seemed that once the usage time ended, the raft would retract automatically, whether someone was inside or not. If the raft had been on water, she would have fallen directly into it.
Sighing, Shu Fu got up, turned on the power in her home, pulled back the floor-to-ceiling curtains on the balcony, and switched on a warm floor lamp in the living room. She placed the pots and utensils temporarily on the bar counter and then brought them to the bathroom. She turned on the small light above the kitchen range hood and quickly cleaned all the cookware and dishes from dinner.
Afterward, she took a quick hot shower in the bathroom.
In this old building, the water pressure was usually low, but the gas water heater had a pressure booster installed. It heated water quickly, and the flow was strong. The warm water felt incredibly soothing against her skin.
After her shower, she sighed again, thinking about how much worse the weather had become. She couldn’t help but wonder how much longer she could enjoy the luxury of having electricity, gas, and hot water on demand.
She dried her hair, turned off all the lights outside her bedroom, double-checked the windows and doors, and then curled up under the covers to scroll through her phone.
At this hour, the internet was flooded with posts and videos of astonished and distressed reactions. The short video platforms were dominated by headlines like “Thunderstorms” and “Large Hail.”
Aside from Suicheng and its surrounding counties, several cities in southeastern Huagou had experienced a once-in-a-century thunderstorm and hailstorm that day. Some coastal cities, although spared from hail and thunderstorms, were battered by typhoon rains, causing damage to buildings and glass windows similar to what Suicheng had endured.
The thunderstorm warning in Suicheng coincided with rush hour, leaving many people stranded in their workplaces, schools, or wherever they happened to be.
Nearly three hours of thunderstorms and relentless large hail wreaked havoc across Suicheng, shattering car windows on the streets and causing various objects to fall from high places. With strong winds and heavy rain persisting, public transportation had come to a halt, leaving people unable to return home.
Zheng Feifei sent a message:
“My parents told me not to go back home yet. It’s uncomfortable spending the night at the office, but at least it’s safer. Outside, it’s pitch dark, and random debris keeps falling from buildings…”
Zheng Feifei, a local, didn’t live far from her office. Usually, it took her 20 minutes by subway and another 10 minutes to walk home. However, with the subway suspended and walking unsafe in such conditions, she had no choice but to stay put.
She complained to Shu Fu about having only eaten a bowl of instant noodles for dinner and now resorting to biscuits. Hungry and tired, she said her coworkers were discussing how to arrange sleeping spaces for the night. With many stranded at the office, the limited couches in the break room and meeting rooms meant most would have to sleep on the floor or curl up at their desks.
She regretted not taking Shu Fu’s earlier advice to take a day off. If she had foreseen how bad the weather would get, she would have asked for leave even if it meant getting noted down by her supervisor.
Her apartment complex was relatively new, with sturdy construction, and being on the second floor had kept her home safe from the hailstorm.
She worried about her parents at first but now felt more concerned about herself.
“If I had listened to you, taken a day off, and stocked up on a variety of takeout, I’d be lounging comfortably on the couch at home, gnawing on duck wings, watching shows on my tablet, and browsing the internet on my phone, all while snacking on the fruit my mom peeled for me. The wind and rain outside wouldn’t bother me at all.”
Shu Fu replied:
“Why don’t you check downstairs? Your office building seems pretty diverse. There might be a nail salon or beauty parlor. Those places usually have beds for treatments. If the staff are stuck there too, you might be able to pay to spend the night.”
Zheng Feifei: “!! Why didn’t I think of that?!”
She sent a string of kiss emojis, making Shu Fu laugh. Shu Fu reminded her to bring along a couple of female coworkers, her phone, and a power bank. She advised against using the elevator and suggested using their phones as flashlights while the power bank ensured they stayed charged. Walking down the stairs would be safer in such weather.
While messaging Zheng Feifei, Shu Fu noticed updates in her roommate group chat. Wu Shaoshan and Chen Fa weren’t as lucky. Their shared apartment complex, while in better condition than Shu Fu’s, had ordinary glass windows. Being on the fourth floor, they hadn’t escaped the hailstorm. Two glass panels in their south-facing living room had shattered, leaving the room in a soaked and chaotic state.
Back when Chen Fa had called about the subway incident, Shu Fu had mentioned in the group chat that she had hired someone to reinforce her windows. Without explicitly mentioning the disaster, she shared a video of her balcony, noting that the upper half was all glass and felt fragile, so she decided to install laminated safety glass.
Her timely suggestion had made others in the group reconsider their own window safety, though some hadn’t acted in time.
The next day, Chen Fa and Wu Shaoshan arranged for someone to come over and measure for reinforcements.
Zhang Tian lived in an upscale neighborhood on the 20th floor of a mid-rise building. Her apartment’s windows were made of tempered glass, which was quite sturdy. When she discussed reinforcing them with her parents, they all agreed it didn’t seem necessary.
But no one anticipated how quickly the extreme weather would arrive. The hailstones, some as large as eggs and with diameters reaching 8–9 cm, caused catastrophic damage to buildings, especially to windows.
Zhang Tian’s family owned two apartments in the same neighborhood. The newer one, purchased with plans for her to move in, had been under renovation. It was initially intended as her future home, but later repurposed as a marital home when she planned to marry her ex-fiancé. Now that the relationship had ended, those plans were naturally scrapped.
The tempered glass in the new apartment held up perfectly, but her parents’ home wasn’t so lucky. Whether due to its height or some other issue, the outward-opening window frames leaked heavily. Stuffing towels into the gaps didn’t help, as water gushed in like an open faucet. The master bedroom was particularly hard hit, resembling a disaster zone.
Wu Shaoshan shared a video expressing her frustration: she and Chen Fa had planned to reinforce their windows, but before they could complete the work, the extreme weather hit.
Zhang Tian responded with self-deprecating humor, noting that although her windows held up, she wasn’t spared from misfortune.
The only consolation was that Suicheng issued a thunderstorm warning in time, so Chen Fa and Wu Shaoshan were already home from work, and Zhang Tian had decided not to go to her tea shop. It was a small blessing amid the chaos.
Recent days had seen relentless thunderstorms, hail, and heavy rain, leaving many out-of-town travelers stranded near train stations and airports. Many visitors from a previous wave of delays caused by Sunday’s thunderstorms were still awaiting new arrangements when another group found themselves stuck. Among them were many Suicheng residents originally planning to travel.
The chaos at airports and train stations made the news, with widespread coverage online. Many others were in far worse situations than Zhang Tian and her friends.
In the aftermath of the storm, most companies and schools in Suicheng issued emergency notices for closures. This at least gave people a chance to focus on cleaning up their homes.
Shu Fu suggested in a group chat: “If the rain lets up tomorrow and it’s safe outside, head to the nearest supermarket and stock up on water and food.”
Given the circumstances, this seemed like sound advice. After all, severe weather and resource shortages often go hand in hand.
The next morning, the rain did subside slightly. The skies were still dark and overcast, and the view from the window revealed a city that seemed utterly ravaged overnight. Trees and shrubs were stripped of their branches, with debris, broken glass, and building fragments scattered everywhere.
Low-lying areas in the city began to flood, with water levels reaching over 20 cm in some places. Though the coverage wasn’t widespread, the muddy water, mixed with broken branches, shattered glass, and twisted metal, made travel hazardous for many.
Vehicles parked outside were nearly all damaged, with shattered windows and dented roofs being common. Though many couldn’t directly see the damage to their own homes, they could clearly observe the destruction to neighboring buildings. The sight was shocking.
Except for the lowest floors, where some windows had been spared, most higher-floor windows were completely destroyed. In some cases, even the window frames had been dislodged, leaving gaping holes that residents hastily blocked with furniture.
Lower floors weren’t entirely safe either. For some, nearby trees had been broken by the wind, with branches smashing through windows and leaving a mess of glass and foliage in their homes.
The people of Suicheng, unaccustomed to hailstorms, were left stunned. The destruction was overwhelming—where could they even begin?
Just a week prior, some had complained about the oppressive heat. Temperatures of 35–40°C were difficult, but at least cars and buildings offered air conditioning, making the heat manageable.
Now, with work and school suspended, everything had ground to a halt.
“This weather is terrifying! When will this damned rain end?” someone exclaimed while cleaning up their home, keeping an eye on the local news for updates.
Others, feeling anxious, turned to the internet to vent and seek comfort, only to be horrified by photos and videos showing even worse devastation elsewhere.
Thunderstorms, hail, strong winds, and heavy rain had caused chain disasters. In the city, high-rise buildings were generally sturdy, with most damage limited to shattered windows or temporary structures like awnings.
But in rural areas, self-built homes had partially collapsed, with water and electrical systems failing. Landslides blocked mountain roads, halting transportation. Farmers suffered the worst losses—hail ruined crops, destroyed greenhouses, and caused devastating financial damage.
Amid this, some online celebrated the suspension of work and school, seeing it as a bonus. To them, disasters were temporary and mostly affected others. The unexpected holiday, however, was very real.
This group of people, whose windows hadn’t suffered severe damage, had the leisure to post photos and videos of the thunderstorms and hail they captured the previous day on social media. They were active in various groups, sharing and forwarding updates and discussions.
Meanwhile, a more level-headed portion of the population, after seeing images and videos of disaster scenes from Suicheng and nearby counties, began to feel uneasy.
Though Suicheng wasn’t a first-tier city, it was a modernized urban area with a well-designed drainage system. Even during past storms, flooding had never been an issue. Yet now, certain areas had water depths exceeding 20 cm. Videos even showed underground tunnels and subway stations filling with water.
The subway footage was particularly alarming. The lowest level of the station was already submerged, and water continued to flow down the stairs like a waterfall, threatening to flood the entire station.
Though the rain had lessened slightly, experts predicted that this wave of rainfall wasn’t over. Torrential downpours were expected to continue for the next 48 hours.
“Are we going to face a flood like back in August?”
“Will Suicheng flood? I don’t think that’s ever happened before!”
“Exactly. This city has always been considered a lucky place—no earthquakes, no floods, no typhoons, and hardly any hail.”
“But aside from earthquakes, haven’t we faced all those disasters this week?”
“Not really all of them—just hail. Typhoons are much worse, and as for floods, it’s only a few low-lying areas with water buildup. That’s pretty normal, right? Most places are fine!”
“Nope, I’m not taking any chances. I’m heading to the supermarket to stock up on food and water. If something really happens, we won’t panic!”
“Is the supermarket even open? Isn’t everything closed?”
“Supermarkets are essential services. Even if small convenience stores are closed, larger ones will definitely remain open. People need to buy food daily. I’ve seen delivery drivers still out, handling supermarket orders.”
“[Photos][Photos][Photos] I’m at the supermarket. The glass here is sturdy, and the building’s exterior seems fine. But the place is packed! Everyone’s carts are overflowing, and some shelves are already running out. Good thing I came with my parents—I’m tall enough to grab items from the top shelves!”
“Whoa! What’s going on? It’s so early—didn’t the store just open? Why is it so crowded?”
“I’m here too! People are grabbing things like there’s no tomorrow. It’s scary…”
“Didn’t you get the notice? Heavy rain is forecasted for Suicheng and nearby cities over the next 48 hours. An orange alert for torrential rain has been issued, with rainfall expected to reach up to 200 mm in 24 hours! People are being advised to stock up on food and water and avoid going out for the next few days. Evacuations in some low-lying areas have already started.”
“I didn’t get any notice. By the way, how’s your signal? My internet’s spotty—was the network damaged by yesterday’s hailstorm?”
“Same here! My signal just came back.”
“If you didn’t get an evacuation notice, consider yourself lucky. My neighborhood flooded last night, and we were evacuated this morning!”
“Rainfall of 200 mm? What were the levels over the past few days? 60 or 70 mm?”
“I remember the highest was 58 mm in one day.”
“Wow, so what does 200 mm even look like? I need to get my parents to the supermarket ASAP!”
Shu Fu didn’t join the panic buyers.
She had already stocked up on essentials. With limited space, she couldn’t hoard endless supplies of rice and vegetables. The resources she had would last for a long time, and she had the advantage of her “lottery system.”
Her raft upgrade tasks ensured that she would have opportunities to replenish supplies as needed. So, she wasn’t worried about running out, though she did feel anxious about whether future tasks would require venturing out during the storm.
Sure enough, 20 minutes later, her wristband vibrated, signaling a new raft progress task.