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Nine

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A week later, and still no rain. Shaozhen was making his way to the mountain spring, struggling along the rocky path and pulling himself onto the narrow ledge. The daily trek up the mountains to collect water wasn’t getting any easier and the beautiful spring that Yangyang had found was already running low. If they didn’t find a new source of water soon, the village would go dry in a matter of weeks.

As he walked, his mind wandered. Master Chen had finally sent his exam results. He had passed, but just barely. There would be no scholarship for senior school next year. Nainai had simply shrugged it off and sent him to the fields, but Shaozhen was worried about telling his mother. He hated to disappoint her and without school, his fate of becoming a farmer seemed sealed.

Shaozhen paused as he reached the narrow cliff ledge. Yangyang had shown the villagers where to find water and they had all celebrated her as a hero. But now, with all the residents going back and forth between the village and the cave collecting water, the path had eroded and the journey was even tougher than before. Shaozhen still wasn’t comfortable with this part of the trek, the sharp drop just a metre before him, but he’d learned to clamp down his fear. He took a deep breath and stepped gingerly onto the embankment.

He moved the wicker basket to his chest so he could press his back to the cliff face. He sucked in a deep breath and inched his way along. His footsteps sent small rocks and tiny pebbles down the steep embankment.

Suddenly, he heard a low rumbling and felt unsteady on his legs. Shaozhen froze, his stomach dropping as the sense of vertigo came over him. Silence. And then it came again. A prattling, rattling, getting louder and louder. Shaozhen realised that the shakiness wasn’t coming from his legs but from the ground beneath his feet. The ledge was moving and Shaozhen felt like he was going to be thrown over the side.

A landslide. Shaozhen’s whole body seized up with fear. His stomach turned as the ground kept swaying. He pushed back, toeing the edge of the slender shelf that he stood on, desperate to keep his back against the cliff. His breaths were shallow and ragged and his fingers grasped fruitlessly at the dirt and grass behind him, desperate for purchase. Pebbles and rocks were raining down all around him. Shaozhen squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip so hard he tasted blood.

It felt like an eternity before the shaking stopped and things around him calmed. He waited, bow-legged and rickety, refusing to move. He felt like he might vomit, but he forced himself to scramble further along the path to safety.

Shaozhen collapsed on his hands and knees, panting for breath. The ground was solid here, the earth hard and sturdy, and he almost bent down to kiss it. It took a while before he could no longer hear the pounding in his ears.

He felt something wet running down his right leg and peered down. There was a crimson gash on his calf, about the length of his hand, where a sharp rock must have cut into it. Black dirt was caught in the wound. He winced as he tried to brush the grit off with his fingers, and he only managed to smear the blood over his leg.

Shaozhen tore off a part of his dirty T-shirt to fasten a bandage and try to stop the bleeding. Red seeped through the fabric but at least the blood was no longer trickling down his leg. He stood up slowly and made his way back to the ledge, hobbling as he tried not to put too much weight on his injured limb.

Landslides were a constant threat in the village but with the drought, it had been the furthest thing from everyone’s minds. There had been no rains, no flooding, nor any other event that might trigger one. But Shaozhen knew that a landslide had the power to wipe out the village. Panic seized him. All thoughts of water were forgotten. He needed to get back to Hongsha – and fast.

Shaozhen picked his way carefully back down to the base of the mountain, his leg throbbing with every step. His mind raced, overcome by images of his grandmother, or even Yangyang, trapped under the rubble. Are they at home or are they out in the fields? Is the house still standing? Has the landslide wiped out the entire village?

Half running, half stumbling, he made his way towards the village, dragging his right leg behind him. The bandage was a deep red colour now, completely soaked through.

Nainai! Nainai! He was willing his legs to go faster, wishing he had the height of Michael Jordan and the agility of John Starks. He was almost at the village entrance now, and he could hear the panicked voices of the farmers who were running back from the fields. He raced past Aunty Law, her straw hat askew on her head. ‘Nainai! Nainai!’ Shaozhen called out as he weaved among the villagers seeking out his grandmother.

The gates to the village headquarters were open and a crowd had gathered out the front. A few people were on their knees, wailing, as others tried to calm them down. Shaozhen ran towards them.

Finally, he spotted Nainai in the crowd. She was sobbing, her face buried in her hands as Yangyang tried to soothe her.

‘Shaozhen!’ His grandmother ran towards him, her tiny body moving like lightning. Shaozhen pushed through the crowd, ignoring the pain in his leg, until he finally collapsed into Nainai’s arms, crying into her shoulders. She wrapped her arms around him like a thick rope and squeezed.

‘Nainai.’ Those were the only words he could manage through the tears. She kissed him as she cried and then she kissed him again.

‘Shh. You’re safe. We’re all safe,’ she murmured to him like she had when he was a toddler. She stroked his head and pressed her warm hand against the back of his neck. ‘My precious grandson.’ Shaozhen felt her tears dampening his skin. ‘When we felt the landslide, I thought you were up there,’ she sobbed.

He drew back to look at her face. ‘And I thought it had hit the village.’

She shook her head. ‘We’re all fine.’ And they clung to each other once again.

‘Wah, you sure picked a ripe time to go up the mountain,’ Yangyang declared from behind them. Shaozhen leapt up and threw his arms around her. He felt her body stiffen at first but then she returned the hug, happy to see him.

‘Shaozhen!’ Someone clapped him on the back, and he turned to see Chun. ‘Yangyang said you were on the mountain. Did you see the landslide?’

‘I felt it. Like the floor shaking. I thought the ground would break in two.’ Nainai clamped her hand over her mouth like she was going to cry again. ‘But I wasn’t hurt at all,’ he added quickly.

Nainai’s gaze dropped to his right leg. ‘What happened?’ she wailed, inspecting the bright red bandage.

‘It’s okay, Nainai. I just cut myself on a rock. It looks worse than it is.’ He tried not to wince as he bent over and undid the bandage. The T-shirt fabric seemed to cling to his leg as though it had tiny claws.

Nainai slapped his hand away and took over, her maternal nature kicking in. ‘Yangyang, get a clean cloth and some water, quick,’ she commanded. Yangyang rushed off and Nainai fussed over the wound.

Yangyang returned and Nainai had just about finished dressing his injury when the door to the headquarters opened.

‘Hey, it’s the Secretary,’ said Chun.

The crowd pushed forwards, all clamouring at once. Secretary Xian’s eyes went wide, like a hunted animal’s, while he tried to make himself heard over the group.

‘Please, comrades. Settle down.’ But they didn’t listen, trying to speak over each other.

‘What is the Party going to do about the landslides?’ someone asked.

‘Is it still safe?’ asked another. ‘Will we have to move?’

Headmaster Song finally stepped between Xian and the group. ‘Please, friends. Let’s have some peace. Peace for the Secretary, please.’

‘Thank you, Mr Song,’ Xian stuttered, but he quickly composed himself. ‘Comrades, I have spoken to Secretary Lam on the phone and our first and foremost priority is to ensure no residents have been hurt in the landslide. So, if any residents are unaccounted for, please speak up now so that we may send out a search party.’

Just then, there was a frantic voice from behind. The crowd turned. Aunty Wu was running towards them, her frizzy perm framing her face like the dried flowers they used for chrysanthemum tea. ‘He’s gone. He’s gone! Xiaoping is missing!’

Shaozhen felt his stomach sink as Nainai started wailing beside him.