“That’s more like it.” The Inspection Team Leader pushed back from the chair and singled out Shan Jia with a pointed look. “Young comrade, don’t just wait out your time so you can go sit in an office in the county. Learn from your secretary. Put down roots in the community. Stay humble and steady.”
The leader continued, “We have other villages to inspect, so we won’t keep you from your work.”
“Oh, no need to see us out. Thank you for your hard work.”
Xie Anqing, Xie Yun, and the other attendees still went outside to see the team off.
After the vehicle had driven off, Li Xianglan, the woman who worked in the canteen, came over with someone. “Secretary, this young woman was just assigned as the village-resident cadre in Xixie Village. She took a wrong turn and ended up here. I couldn’t quite explain the way to her. What should we do?”
Xie Anqing checked the newcomer’s ID, then called to Shan Jia, who was standing by herself some distance away.
Shan Jia hurried over, wiping her eyes. “Secretary.”
“Take my car and drive her to the Xixie Village office. The key’s in the left-hand drawer of my desk.”
“But the medical insurance—”
“We won’t lose much by waiting half an hour.”
Shan Jia nodded and went to get the key.
Xie Anqing walked inside with her.
Once they’d put some distance between themselves and the people chatting behind them, Xie Anqing lowered her voice. “There’s still some fruit candy in my drawer, from when Xie Huaixia gave it to me on Children’s Day. Pick one you like.”
Shan Jia froze, then quickly looked up at Xie Anqing. She’d already turned to speak to Xie Yun.
“Divide up the households that haven’t paid for medical insurance. Give each familiar household in the village a third more, and reduce the village-resident cadres’ share by the same amount.”
“Give me all the mountain households,” Xie Anqing added.
They’d done it that way for the past few years.
At first, Xie Yun didn’t have a driver’s license, and riding up the mountain took too long. Later, she finally got her license, but she wasn’t confident on the roads and nearly got into an accident. After that, Xie Anqing never let her handle the households on the mountain. No one else could do it either. They were either too old or too young. They couldn’t handle the hardship or the people up there.
“I’ve been driving all over the place these past few years,” Xie Yun said. “I’m used to it now. I can handle mountain roads.”
“Maybe next time. I want to use this opportunity to talk with Seventh Uncle again about moving down the mountain.”
Xie Yun paused. “All right. He might listen to you, at least.”
“Mm.”
From that day on, one person stayed on duty at the village office each day while everyone else went door to door to explain medical insurance and collect information.
On top of that, there were the daily patrols of key stretches of water, replacing and distributing rescue equipment, clearing rubbish from the water…
The entire village office was so busy no one had time to catch their breath.
Even so, completing the final four percent proved exceptionally difficult.
“Another one with their phone off,” Xie Beibei said. “We can’t even get hold of them. What are we supposed to do now? Fly to the factory and ambush them?”
“You may as well just kill me,” Shan Jia said.
The two unfortunate souls sighed at each other.
Xie Anqing came in from outside, car keys in hand. “Give me the ones you can’t reach.”
Xie Beibei and Shan Jia exchanged a quick look. “You finished the ones you were handling?”
“Mm.”
“How did you do that?” Xie Beibei cried. “Those households on the mountain—not just all of them, even Seventh Uncle by himself! Calling him stubborn is an insult to the word. We went to all that trouble to get funding to reinforce his house, and he won’t let the construction crew near it. The village offered to build him a new house down here, and all he said was that he wouldn’t live in it! He spends all day guarding that rickety shack and won’t let his three granddaughters come down the mountain. Doesn’t he worry that one day the wind will pick up and the rain will come down hard enough to collapse the place? The girls—”
“Xie Beibei.”
“Auntie, I’m sorry. Don’t look at me like that. It scares me.”
“Give me the people you can’t reach.”
Xie Beibei immediately handed her the register. “These ones with stars beside their names.”
Xie Anqing took out her phone and photographed the pages. “These ones are farther away. Once I’ve dealt with them, I’ll go straight home. Call me if anything comes up.”
“Okay, Auntie.”
After Xie Anqing had taken the photos, Shan Jia handed over her own list. “Thank you, Secretary.”
Xie Anqing said nothing. As soon as she finished taking the photos, she left the village office.
It was stifling outside.
Xie Anqing looked up at the sky. Her brows, which had been relaxed, slowly drew together.
Xie Beibei was free of work for the moment and had noticed the weather too. She propped her chin on her hand and stared outside for a while, muttering to herself, “Why do I keep feeling like the rain isn’t over yet?”
By the time Xie Anqing finished visiting the households Xie Beibei and Shan Jia had given her, it was already five in the evening. She slowed the car, hoping to give her taut nerves a chance to rest.
Instead of easing, her exhaustion only worsened.
She’d been rushing back and forth for days, worrying about the water level and the weather. All the little details piling up had taken a toll.
So when she got home, Xie Anqing took a quick shower and decided to lie down for ten minutes before getting up to make dinner.
She set an alarm for six thirty, tossed her phone onto the bed, and lay down fully dressed.
The room spun. Then a heavy darkness swept over her, and sleep rushed in. Her phone, buried in the bedding, couldn’t wake her for even a second.
For the past few days, Chen Li had been taking photographs around the village: water flowing past the entrance, blue plumbago growing in a stone trough, moss in the corners, and an old newspaper crumpled on the steps where someone had sat.
The place had a natural ease that a bustling city could never quite manage. Being there, Chen Li had gradually recovered from the temper she’d lost that day.
She walked around with her camera, photographing the paths the village office staff took as they went in and out of the gateways to different homes, as well as their exhausted expressions. Without realizing it, she was taking part in their everyday work.
The work was hard. And the people who did it day after day were a lot like the person W had described in her messages.
[I asked someone at the County Party Committee about her. She’s been the First Secretary of Dongxie Village for six years, always responsible and capable. She’s done a lot of practical work for the residents. She’s a rare talent.]
Chen Li had already established that she couldn’t get what she wanted from someone like that by trading favors. Would she really keep going without changing her mind?
She couldn’t remember which night she’d woken in the dark with that question flashing through her mind.
It could answer all the questions that came before it. Maybe it didn’t fit every single one, but once she’d decided whether to move forward or retreat, the details no longer mattered.
Chen Li had thought about it. She couldn’t remember which night she’d woken with the answer, either.
No. It was just an excuse. There was no need to make it about one particular person.
Rumble.
Thunder suddenly rolled across the sky.
Chen Li paused with her hand on the door. She set her camera on the three-drawer table by the wall, then turned and walked toward the corridor.
The wind had picked up, though it wasn’t strong yet. A branch reaching into the walkway swept lightly against Chen Li’s trouser leg again and again.
She rested one hand on the railing. With the other, she pushed her hair behind her and gazed out over the river, where no sunset had fallen that evening.
Ripples shimmered across the surface.
As Chen Li blinked at the shifting light, she unexpectedly noticed a grave mound behind the house by the river.
It wasn’t new.
She’d passed by several times and somehow never noticed it.
Black clouds crept closer, pressing down over the mound. The willows thrashed harder, as if the wind and rain were itching to rip them out of the ground.
Chen Li frowned, unsettled by the sight for reasons she couldn’t explain.
She tightened her hand around the railing. A faint, rapid vibration sounded in her ear. At first, she thought she’d imagined it. She followed the sound all the way to Xie Anqing’s door before noticing it wasn’t fully shut.
Xie Anqing was back.
For the past few days, they’d only faced each other at meals. Otherwise, they hadn’t spoken at all. Chen Li had thought they wouldn’t exchange another word before she left.
Now, an opportunity had appeared out of nowhere—
Chen Li stood there for a long time, then turned and went back to her own room.
She spent a few minutes exporting the photos, carefully selected a portion to archive, then gathered her clothes and got ready to go downstairs for a shower.
The moment she opened her door, the vibration from the room across the hall hit her ears.
Chen Li frowned. She’d been in her room for at least half an hour, but Xie Anqing’s phone was still vibrating.
Or was it not a phone?
Xie Anqing worked around the clock. How could she let an alert sound unanswered for that long?
Was she not there?
Or was something else going on?
Chen Li’s hand tightened around the doorknob. After a moment, there was a soft click at the entrance. She pulled the door shut, crossed the hall, and entered Xie Anqing’s room.
Xie Anqing was there, lying flat on the bed with her eyes closed and her lips pressed into a straight line.
The sight looked familiar.
Chen Li immediately thought of the time Xie Anqing had passed out with a high fever after a bout of diarrhea. The two scenes were almost identical. No, Xie Anqing was sweating even more today, and she looked like she was suffering more.
Chen Li’s gaze rested on her for a second or two. When she reached the bedside, she saw that it was the alarm that had been sounding. She switched it off, pressed her thumb against the joint of her index finger, and reached out to touch Xie Anqing’s forehead.
No fever.
Then…
Chen Li’s vision suddenly blurred. Before she could work out what had happened, Xie Anqing had pulled her into her arms. Her brows were tightly knitted. Her wrist shifted, and her fingers threaded through Chen Li’s hair. In a drowsy mumble, she said, “Don’t move around.”
She’d mistaken Chen Li for Xie Huaixia, who was always climbing into her bed. There was no invitation in it, no hidden meaning.
But when Chen Li caught the soothing scent in Xie Anqing’s hair, her answer of no began to waver violently. Once again, it blurred.
Thunder crashed outside, shaking the world.
Chen Li instinctively tried to pull back. Xie Anqing pressed her head into the warm hollow of her neck. The uneven breaths of an adult woman sounded beside her ear, quick and shallow. The hand cradling the back of her head was strong but not restraining, gentle but unwilling to let her go. It slid from Chen Li’s roots to her skin and, before the next clap of thunder, drew her closer.
As if to soothe her fear of the storm.
Chen Li wasn’t afraid of thunder. She only knew that her face was pressed fully against a patch of scorching skin, her fluttering lashes brushing Xie Anqing’s neck. She could feel the skin tighten and relax beneath her nose with every breath—
Chen Li froze.
Thunder exploded. For one instant, time stood still. Her thoughts stopped. The storm broke without warning.
