Chapter Fifty-Three: Cold Rainy Night

“Ladies and gentlemen, due to the influence of a cyclonic air current from Nepal, our city will enter the rainy season earlier than usual starting this week. Over the next half month, we expect predominantly rainy weather, with bouts of heavy downpours. We remind all viewers to prepare for the rain…”

The weather forecast always seemed to arrive too late; it was only after three days of relentless rain in Yijiang City that the television station finally began to report on it.

Zhao Zejun remembered when he was a child, the weather forecasts were notoriously unreliable, often predicting sunshine only for torrents to pour down instead. It wasn’t until after he went to university that things began to improve, apparently because a certain research institute under the Academy of Sciences developed a domestically-produced radar system that could rival the world’s best.

But Zhao Zejun’s current concern wasn’t the radar—it was the house he owned in Gaogang Village.

Every year during the rainy season, Gaogang Village suffered a calamity. Almost every household’s roof would leak, water would seep through the floors making homes uninhabitable, sewage would run through the alleys leaving no dry place to step, and with no drainage system, several low-lying areas would flood after just a few days of rain, submerging houses and furniture. Each year, a number of houses in Gaogang Village would collapse during the rainy season.

The sky raged as if dragons were battling overhead, thunderclouds rolling, lightning flashing wildly, and thunderclaps rumbling without warning. The rain poured down like a waterfall, making it impossible to see people just a couple of meters away.

Zhao Zejun, clad in a raincoat and thick rubber boots, sloshed through the mud and water, making his way to the newly purchased two-story house.

Jiang Xuan was there with the entire construction crew. The empty rooms upstairs were filled with feather felt—an asphalt byproduct mixed with plant ash and chicken and duck feathers, pressed into large sheets resembling rubber. It was highly waterproof, sturdy, and much cheaper than real rubber, though very flammable, making it perfect for the rainy southern climate of Yijiang City. Many homes in Gaogang Village used it for their roofs.

Thanks to Zhao Zejun’s earlier instructions, Jiang Xuan had promptly bought waterproofing materials and basic reinforcement supplies, and the crew had reinforced and waterproofed the shanties that same day. Though the heavy rain had come suddenly and fiercely, Zhao Zejun’s house had so far suffered no damage.

Even so, Zhao Zejun dared not let his guard down. No matter how well you plan, you cannot outwit the heavens. When nature unleashes its wrath, all he could do was remain vigilant. Judging by past experience, this rain was far from over; it could drizzle all day for ten days or half a month, with sudden bursts of torrential rain and fierce winds. No one could guarantee that the houses would remain unscathed.

So he had Jiang Xuan and the construction crew all come to the two-story building, ready to respond at once should any house suffer water intrusion, leaks, or even collapse.

Fortunately, he had bought this two-story house—it was solid concrete, impervious to the rain, with plenty of rooms, ten in all, enough to accommodate dozens of people.

When Zhao Zejun arrived, Jiang Xuan and Junzi were leading the crew in a meal upstairs. The rain outside brought a chill, and Junzi had brought a big coal stove from home, which served both for boiling water and for warmth.

Zhao Zejun took off his raincoat and tossed it on the table, rolling up his trouser legs. Despite the raincoat and boots, most of his pants were soaked through, clinging stickily to his legs.

The workers had all been diligent lately, but Zhao Zejun knew this was not the time for pleasantries. He stood by the table and spoke directly: “Everyone, I’m afraid these days will be tough for all of us. Unless you have really urgent matters at home, I ask you to eat and sleep here. I’ll provide cigarettes, alcohol, tea, and meat to your satisfaction! One thing, though—your wages for all previous work will be settled in full only after this heavy rain passes. I promise no one will be shortchanged.”

Without waiting for reply, he poured himself half a cup of strong liquor and said, “You’ve all helped me through my hardest times. I will not let you down. My thanks to you all!” He then threw back his head and drained the cup in one go.

The workers exchanged glances but remained silent. Zhao Zejun had spoken only half the truth, but anyone with sense could grasp the rest. Help him now, and he’d remember your good turn. But if you abandoned him in his hour of need, you’d be undermining him, and your wages would be a long time coming.

Jiang Xuan poured herself half a cup, drank it in silence, then slammed the cup down on the table and said, “If anyone wants to leave, say so now. If you don’t speak now, don’t bring it up later. If you walk out when it’s time to work, you’re disrespecting me.”

These were Jiang Xuan’s people, and they all knew her background. If Zhao Zejun’s words were a financial threat, Jiang Xuan’s were a direct, personal one.

Junzi quietly finished his cup as well, narrowing his eyes to survey the group.

The workers looked at each other. Engineer Liang Shi was the first to speak. “Boss Zhao, don’t worry. Since we’ve taken your project, we’ll see it through. If a house really collapses, outsiders will think it’s my design at fault—and that won’t do. I can’t handle my liquor, so I’ll drink tea instead.” He took a large gulp of tea.

What else was there to say? The wealthiest, the toughest, and the most educated had all spoken. Even if anyone had misgivings, it wasn’t the time to voice them. The rest of the crew raised their cups in turn.

“Thank you, everyone. Jiang Xuan, Junzi, split the crew into two teams. Every morning and afternoon, check all our houses, and solve any problem on the spot. Engineer Liang, sorry to trouble you, but I need you to go with both teams to the sites. Don’t do the manual work yourself—just supervise and give instructions. I’ll join when I can.”

Zhao Zejun quickly assigned the tasks, pulled on his raincoat, and led the first group out into the downpour.

They went from house to house, checking the courtyard-style buildings and shanties. Some, abandoned for too long, were already dripping steadily from the roof. That would never do; even if no one lived there, years of leaks would eventually bring the roof crashing down.

He fetched a ladder and climbed up to lay another layer of feather felt on the roof.

On his way back, passing the well by the little building, Zhao Zejun’s foot slipped—he almost tumbled right in.

“Damn it, what a wretched place! What age are we living in that we still use well water?”

Fuming, he shouted into the storm, “Junzi, find a plank and cover this up! I’m telling you, be careful—no matter how good a swimmer you are, you won’t survive a fall down a well! Engineer Liang, go into town and buy some antiseptic and wound dressings…”

As he spoke, water trickled down from his right pant leg, now tinged faintly pink.

He had scraped a large patch of skin off his knee in that fall.

Who says capitalists just exploit workers? Every cent I earn is hard-won, bought with sweat and blood—if only it were easy!

So the days passed in a blur of busy labor. The rain had fallen for days on end. Every afternoon after classes, Zhao Zejun would head straight for Gaogang Village, and spent almost the entire weekend there, climbing up and down alongside the workers, slipping so many times he lost count.

At first, the workers had grumbled at the boss’s “tyranny,” but seeing Zhao Zejun, young as he was, working harder than any of them, their resentment quietly faded away. Since they had to stay, it made more sense to work diligently and make a good impression than to loaf about grumbling.

That afternoon, around five o’clock, another torrential rain began. Zhao Zejun had just led the team out of the two-story house when he saw the old woman across the way, holding an umbrella, standing at the chicken coop’s door tugging at the fence.

“Auntie, what are you doing out here in this downpour?” Zhao Zejun shouted.