My brother entrusted his child to me, and I livestreamed raising the baby, making the Empress cry wi

The dark clouds hung extremely low, as if trying to press the entire blazing fire into the mud.

The rain was so dense that there were almost no gaps, and it pounded on the farmers' straw hats, raincoats, and bare arms, making a dense, muffled sound.

The paddy field ridges had long been soaked into mud by the thick layer of water; when you stepped into them, the mud could reach above your ankles.

The farmers knew that the rain didn't look like it would stop easily, and that what they were doing would most likely be just a drop in the ocean.

But they wouldn't be content with doing nothing.

Moreover, staying at home makes me feel so anxious, like hundreds of ants are crawling in the cracks of my bones. It's uncomfortable to sit or stand.

Besides... what if? What if God helps and the rain stops soon?

Then these seedlings can still be saved!

Thinking of this, someone patted their numb face with their dirty hands, gripped the shovel handle tightly, and dug down hard again, muttering in a muffled voice, "God, open your eyes... open your eyes... look at us, please stop raining..."

The sound of shovels cutting into the soil was completely swallowed up by the rain. All that could be seen were the hunched backs of the people rising and falling in the rain, like sections of tree stumps about to rot from being soaked.

The elderly people who were left at home could not go out to participate in the rescue efforts, so they could only pray incessantly at home. They clasped their hands together, closed their eyes, and turbid tears streamed down from the corners of their wrinkled eyes.

They prayed to God that the rain would stop soon and cease.

An elderly woman with white hair knelt at the entrance of the main room and kowtowed three times to the rain outside.

His forehead struck the rain-soaked stone slab with a dull thud, like a piece of rotten wood hitting the ground.

Then she raised her head, her white hair sticking to the side of her face, and her voice was torn out from deep in her throat, much of it drowned out by the sound of rain, but the words were still clearly audible.

"Oh God, please! Stop raining!"

He kowtowed again, this time a trace of red appeared on his forehead. The blood droplet was diluted by the water on his forehead into a thin, pale red line that trickled down his nose.

Her little grandson, terrified, burst into tears, rushing to her side and grabbing her arm, screaming, "Grandma! Grandma, don't bump your head! It hurts!"

She pulled her hand away from the child, looked up, tears streaming down her face, her voice filled with resentment and confusion.

"Why! Our lives have finally gotten a little better, why...?"

No one answered her; the rain continued to fall, pattering against the roof tiles and thatch, and against the puddles in the yard.

The water's surface was riddled with holes from the raindrops, reflecting the faint, dim light from the main room, flickering as if it might go out at any moment...

……

There are hardly any people left in the counties along the southern coast.

The rain here comes earlier than in the inland areas.

The first to be flooded were the southernmost fishing villages. Located in a low-lying area, the combination of seawater intrusion and torrential rain caused the entire village to be submerged in less than two days.

In the darkness, a muffled rumble could be heard, as if a giant beast had turned over underground, followed by the roar of a wall of water pressing down.

Torn fishing nets, boat planks, and even red undergarments that someone hadn't had time to collect were all swirling in the murky yellow eddy, gradually sinking to the bottom.

The sky and the earth seemed to be covered by layers of gray cloth, making it impossible to distinguish between day and dusk.

The wind swept across the water, carrying a salty, damp smell that also smelled like something rotting up from the seabed.

Those villagers who had managed to stay earlier, hoping for the best, disappeared into the floodwaters.

Next is the nearest county town.

Inside the county government office, the magistrate and his yamen runners blocked the door with sandbags for two days, but on the third day the sandbags were washed away by the water.

With a "plop," the sandbags underneath burst open, and the muddy water from the street gushed in, splashing the magistrate so hard that he landed on his backside in the water.

The yamen quickly filled with water to a depth of half a foot. The documents were soaked and ruined, and the pages of paper scattered in the water, the ink on them seeping into clumps of black mist.

The official seal was washed under the table. The seal rolled twice in the water before finally lying quietly in the mud, and no one paid it any attention.

The magistrate had no choice but to flee overnight with his family and all his money.

He waded through knee-deep water, glanced back at the crooked flagpole at the entrance of the government office, his lips trembled for a long time, and finally managed to squeeze out two words through gritted teeth: "Go quickly!"

As the rain continued to fall, the water level rose higher and higher, until finally, even the drum in front of the county government office was washed away by the water.

It floated silently on the water, the rain hitting it with a hollow and dull sound, like a silent death knell, tolling an unheard lament for the city.

The survivors walked north along the official road.

They stood in the rain, holding their crying children, leading their only ox, which carried all their belongings and the elderly on its back, forming seemingly endless gray lines of people.

The villages along the lakes and rivers are also almost entirely gone.

Continuous torrential rains caused the lake level to rise sharply. The lake water, like a gray-skinned behemoth that had broken free of its chains, roared and overflowed the banks, turning the villages and rice paddies along the lake into a vast swamp.

The river water overflowed into the villages along its banks, swallowing up alley after alley starting from the low-lying areas. The sound of the water echoed deep and eeriely between the alleys and streets, like ghosts from the underworld knocking on doors.

Finally, the water in the entire village reached waist-high, and the murky water was littered with wood chips, vegetable leaves, and a thousand-layered cloth shoe from who-knows-whose house it was.

The child needed to be carried by his parents to avoid falling into the water. A little boy clung tightly to his father's neck, his cold little face pressed against his father's ear, and he whispered in a tearful voice:

"Dad, is our family gone?"

The father's Adam's apple bobbed, and he gripped the child's mother's hand tightly, replying in a hoarse voice, "Home is where we are. Home is wherever our parents are."

A loud "boom" came from behind them. Someone's mud wall had finally collapsed from the water, and the splashing mud and water drenched them.

They had to leave, or the water would rise past their chests, their necks, and their heads...

By then, they won't be able to leave.

More and more refugees poured into the interior, and the official road heading north was crowded with fleeing people.

The great flames erupted into chaos once more.

Amidst the chaos of this natural disaster, the darkness in people's hearts is also quietly brewing.

The rain had been falling for days, and the entire capital was shrouded in a hazy mist, with the stone slabs in the streets and alleys glistening with moisture.

The water curtain hanging from the eaves beat against the ground day and night, the sound dull and urgent.

Thick moss had accumulated in the cracks between the tiles, turning black and swollen from being soaked in rainwater, making it look like patches of cadaveric lividity had grown on the roof.

The air was filled with the musty smell of churning earth, mixed with the musty odor of rotting moss in the corners of the walls.

Inside the capital, those unidentified individuals had already learned of the refugees' situation.

They met again in the private house, braving the heavy rain.