Chapter 83: Shock

The sound was like the roar of a giant beast. Twenty meters ahead, the ground suddenly split open, forming a massive chasm. Jiang Huan pulled a pair of binoculars from her pocket. Struggling to keep her balance, she looked through them and saw that the crack stretched over a hundred meters long and more than two meters wide. Ordinary people or vehicles could never cross such a gap. Someone nearby had been caught at the edge and, as the ground fell away, clung desperately to the side, screaming in terror.

A grown man would stand at least 1.7 meters tall, but the depth of this fissure was far more frightening. There was no way she could go on in such a landscape—doing so would be suicidal.

Anxiously, Jiang Huan took out her communicator. Thankfully, the signal tower seemed intact, and she could still send messages. She contacted her younger brother and others, but at first no one replied. Eventually, Uncle Quan, who had moved into the neighborhood later, responded, saying he was taking shelter and her brother was safe.

She was about to ask more when the signal weakened so badly the message box wouldn’t send anything. Two people came running from a distance, and one stumbled, falling in front of Jiang Huan. She reached out and helped them up.

“Thank you, thank you,” the woman gasped, patting her chest in lingering fear. “What on earth is happening? Is there another disaster coming?”

The person who’d been chasing after them arrived, panting, and seeing that all was well here, decided to rest. The spot could hold twenty or thirty people, and Jiang Huan had no intention of turning anyone away. She couldn’t possibly push people to their deaths.

Others running nearby spotted this safe haven and hurried over. Soon, more than a dozen people stood together beneath the tree, anxiously sharing their fears and confusion about the disaster.

Jiang Huan stood among them, feeling the ground tremble again and again, fearing even this place might collapse. But two hours later, it was still safe—the ground had not cracked, and even the large tree remained upright and firm.

She remembered Xie Congzhou’s conviction and wondered, could he really read the land, sensing that this tree was within a safe zone?

Just then, she saw Xie Congzhou approaching, carrying an old man on his back and accompanied by another man being helped along. Jiang Huan stepped to the edge of the group, assisting a young girl in supporting the man with the twisted ankle, helping Xie Congzhou and the others join them.

The space was already cramped, and with four more people—one unable to bend his leg while seated—it became even tighter. Some people glanced at the newcomers with clear impatience and even hostility.

Jiang Huan didn’t care about their attitudes. She crouched down to check the injured man’s condition. Xie Congzhou rolled up the man’s pant leg a bit. “It’s just a sprain. Bear with it. Rub some medicated oil on it later, and you’ll be fine.”

Jiang Huan rummaged through her backpack, pulled out a box of medicated oil, a bandage, and handed over some plasters. “You’ve got a few cuts yourself—take care of them.” The girl and old man tended to the injured man’s ankle while Jiang Huan cleaned Xie Congzhou’s small wounds and covered them with plasters.

Once both had been treated, the old man finally had a moment to ask Jiang Huan if she knew Xiao Zhou.

“She bought fruit from me once,” Xie Congzhou replied simply.

Jiang Huan nodded, not mentioning that she was the one who’d made a large purchase as the ‘buyer.’

“Ah!” Someone bumped into Jiang Huan, then quickly turned to apologize. “Sorry, more people are coming.”

She looked up; indeed, the growing crowd had caught others’ attention, and people were trickling over. By the end, the man with the sprained ankle had to keep one leg tucked in, and those who knew him stood in the narrow gaps between people, trying not to be accused of taking up too much space.

Jiang Huan looked down at the ground, then noticed Xie Congzhou’s fingers moving beside her. A deep, resonant voice sounded above her head. “Let’s move over there—there are too many people here.”

She followed his gaze to a spot near the great chasm, pitted and uneven, which looked anything but safe. Still, the crowd was growing, and that would soon become a problem. People were already pressed up against her, making her uncomfortable, and trusting his earlier judgment, she helped support the injured man and led their group out.

“Good riddance. They’re taking up space,” someone muttered as they left.

They walked over a hundred meters before the ground shook again. They paused, waiting for the tremors to subside, then continued for another two hundred meters. Only then did Xie Congzhou declare the spot suitable, helping the injured man settle on the ground.

No one else was nearby, and there was ample room. Only a dozen or so meters away lay the great chasm, but otherwise the area was safe. They all sat cross-legged. Jiang Huan tried her communicator again and found a new message:

“Take shelter. Building Six is safe and unharmed. Wait until it’s safe before returning.”

Jiang Huan replied, unsure if the message would ever be sent, but it was better than doing nothing at all.

They waited as dusk fell. The tremors still hadn’t ceased, and with night falling, traveling was unwise. Jiang Huan wondered how to politely excuse herself to fetch something warm to sleep with when Xie Congzhou stood up.

“Wait here. Don’t wander. We’ll have to spend the night outdoors, and we need something for warmth.”

With that, he set off on his own. Jiang Huan considered, then followed. “I’ll go with you. I’ve got fire starters and a knife in my pack, might come in handy.”

He didn’t refuse her, just kept walking, occasionally warning her where not to step.

He led her to his large truck. The wheels had sunk, and the road ahead was split wide open—there was no way to drive it out—but the supplies inside remained. Xie Congzhou began unloading daily essentials and food. Jiang Huan helped carry them back. On the return, Xie Congzhou borrowed a steel cable from her and chopped several thick logs, then they made their way back without stopping.

“We’re back,” Old Xie said, taking the firewood from his grandson and sorting it. He picked out the smaller pieces, pulled some tissues from his coat to use as tinder, and soon had a fire going. Xie Congzhou produced two blankets and an army coat. He distributed the blankets and kept the army coat for himself, then set up a pot to boil water.

Jiang Huan shared a blanket with the girl named Xie Miaomiao. The blanket didn’t smell great, but there was no other choice. In the pot, he cooked canned meat and rice into a rough meat porridge. Jiang Huan declined to share that communal pot, since she had instant noodles in her bag and didn’t want to rely on their food.

She ate one cup of noodles herself and gave the other to Xie Congzhou to distribute. Her backpack was only so big; she couldn’t afford to bring anything else out. Once full, she leaned against Xie Miaomiao and closed her eyes to rest.

No one knew when danger might return, so they arranged to take turns keeping watch.

The night wind was far colder than the day, wrapping around them in waves and sapping their warmth. In Xingcheng Community, other small groups huddled together, enduring this inevitably difficult night.

Still, Jiang Xi’s group was faring a little better.