Chapter 365 - 296: The Nine Province Shadow Wall

The scenery along the road was beautiful.

The closer we drove towards the city, the more beautiful it became.

Because the buildings here were newer, sturdier, the disaster hadn’t been as severe as in the epicenter; there weren’t many collapses.

It wasn’t that there had been no disaster here, just that compared to the places they had been, it was really so much better.

The waterwheels and tall towers of the Qiang ethnic group’s villages were very characteristic. Ye Jiahong, a local from Mianyang, introduced them to everyone along the way.

"These wooden hanging foot buildings, weren’t originally part of the custom. The Qiang people lived in stone houses. That tower, it’s a watchtower, used for command and signaling during battles.

In the past, the Qiang nation was genuinely a warring nation, especially the western Qiang, who were often at war. Boys would receive a knife at the age of eighteen as a rite of passage; they were incredibly fierce, hence the battle-style architecture!"

Listening to this, everyone asked, "Captain Ye, where in Mianyang is your home? Was the disaster severe there?"

Ye Jiahong waved his hand, and in a rare moment of seriousness tinged with sadness, replied:

"My home is in Fucheng District. It suffered, but it was only property loss, much better compared to the locals here! After these few days, I feel that I am so lucky. The instructor talked to me, comforted me, and I even felt embarrassed!"

Fang Huai couldn’t help but tease, "On the day we left, you were the one crying the most."

Instead of denying it to save face, Ye Jiahong glared and retorted:

"Wouldn’t you cry if your home was struck by disaster? Ah, I cried for the two relatives who were killed at my home!

Don’t worry, brothers, I swear I won’t cry anymore, no matter what! Damn it, I’ve completely embarrassed myself, failed the trust the Party and The People had in me."

When everyone heard that two of Captain Ye’s relatives had died, they consoled him, saying, "Condolences, Captain Ye."

Ye Jiahong waved his hand again without looking back, dismissively saying, "What condolences? I only saw them once when I was still breastfeeding. My mother was crying really hard, but I don’t even recognize them."

Everyone couldn’t help but laugh at this, quite heartlessly.

Fang Huai’s face, however, darkened.

Damn it, this guy admits his mistakes so quickly. I just knew that nobody in his family had died, which is why he can be so cheerful.

Tsk tsk tsk.

It’s unbearable.

Once Old Cao gets promoted and leaves, how will I cope working with him?

The driver, listening to everyone’s conversation, looked back and gave Ye Jiahong a glance.

When they finally reached an area near Mianyang with signal, the driver made a phone call. After some vague grunts, the conversation couldn’t be heard. Then he hung up, pulled the car over to the side, turned around, and said:

"Heroes, we can’t get directly to Hanwang right now. We have to take a long detour. First we will stop by Mianyang for a meal, and we’ll take you to Hanwang later, alright?"

Everyone readily agreed.

For the past few days, they had been in the earthquake area, amidst buildings that were damaged and dysfunctional, without electricity, as if time had stopped.

Next, they might have to stay for several days in Hanwang.

Hanwang, although a bit better off, was not much compared to the devastation of Beichuan, with hardly any proper places left.

At least Mianyang was a city. To go downtown and experience the sounds and lights, even just for a while, was like giving one’s spirit a little vacation.

Moreover, in Beichuan, where conditions improved slightly in the later days, the search and rescue time was tight, and they mostly ate small breads and ham sausages. Even making instant noodles was a rare luxury with so many people needing to take turns boiling and fetching water. It was a real hassle.

They were truly hungry.

...

Past five in the evening, near a rather large building in the city area, the driver turned the vehicle into a temporarily arranged open-air parking lot.

The building bore the sign "Jiuzhou Stadium."

There was a buzz of voices.

Passersby, carrying large and small bags, some even bearing shoulder poles, drank mineral water and ate the familiar Daliyuan small breads, looking like they were at a temporary resettlement site.

As they got off the bus, the driver pulled Ye Jiahong aside.

Soon after, Ye Jiahong’s voice could be heard.

"No, I’ll stay with the troops! Thanks, driver!"

The driver raised his voice as well, "Hey, it’s not every day you get to go home. Go have a look! Actually, many buildings here have cracked. It’s safer to check your home. Hanwang is wrapping up; there’s no rush. It’s just an hour away. I’ll wait for you here!"

Now, everyone knew why the driver had arranged for them to have a meal here, and they all started to persuade him:

"Go, Captain Ye!"

"I saw the sign, this place is Fucheng, right? Since you’re here, make a quick visit!"

"Exactly, are you planning on doing a ’three pass but not enter’? If this was Dujiangyan, I’d be home already!" The First Squadron’s Captain Huang Yi also came over, patting Ye Jiahong’s shoulder and added.

Hearing this, Ye Jiahong looked at Huang Yi, his fellow Sichuan local, with some concern:

"Your family... is everything okay?"

"It’s fine," Huang Yi said nonchalantly, "I’ve already made contact with the old folks. Sure, the house has collapsed, but it’s a blessing that no one was hurt. I have a house in Guiyang; once I return, I’ll move them over there."

At that moment, Cao Yi approached and chimed in with his words of encouragement:

"Take a trip; it’ll put your mind at ease, and you can update your mother on the situation at home."

Seeing everyone urging him, Ye Jiahong could only sigh and reluctantly headed towards the roadside to hail a cab. As he walked, he shouted:

"Look, look, look what? I didn’t even bring my keys, and I’m wearing an emergency rescue suit. Going back home and I still have to look for a locksmith! I’ve brought shame to the firefighting service!"

Once again, everyone laughed.

Fang Huai watched everyone’s laughter and suddenly felt that it was quite good to have this jovial Captain in the squadron, and he couldn’t resist shouting out, "Captain Ye, which floor do you live on? Take me there, treat me to a meal, and I’ll help you climb in!"

Ye Jiahong raised his hand to flip him off, but seeing the hustle and bustle of people around, he lowered it again.

...

Inside Jiuzhou Stadium, it was time to collect their meals.

The staff from the Displacement Office were very enthusiastic and treated them with great care.

While the displaced people received packaged convenience foods, they were served steaming hot bento boxes.

Inside, there was even a chicken leg.

Although the Special Duty soldiers were very hungry, they felt too embarrassed to eat and instead tried to exchange their bento with the surrounding displaced people. But not a single person agreed to swap, and they even tried to add ham sausage to their dishes.

Wearing their firefighting uniforms, they received special attention from everyone here. Many people tried to stuff local proud cigarettes into their pockets, and they could barely avoid it. They had to hold their bento and walk out of the stadium to find a spot outside to eat it.

The feeling of being cared for made them both touched and ashamed.

As for what they were ashamed of, they didn’t know.

Perhaps it was because they wore these uniforms, but they couldn’t become superheroes and save everyone.

The expectations of the people and their own self-imposed expectations were actually not on the same level.

They felt their abilities were insufficient and that they had failed the people, but in the eyes of the people, they were like gods descending from the heavens.

What other troops would willingly trade their lives for others?

It was now well-known that in Yingxiu, Beichuan, and along those dangerous roads no one dared approach, the soldiers in green uniforms marched in as if dropping into a pot of boiling water.

The news featured specials about the enormous and dangerous Tangjia Mountain Barrier Lake, which threatened to flood Mianyang and could result in a flood disaster affecting millions. Just as everyone’s hearts were lifted by the news, the presenter said that troops had already risked entering and blown up the barrier lake.

The broadcast described the process of blasting Tangjia Mountain as breathtaking. Eight hundred brave men carried explosives into the dangerous mountains, jumping down from two to three hundred meters high, holding onto ropes—an endeavor no less perilous than that of the fifteen parachuting heroes.

If Fang Huai were to say now that he had participated in the explosion of Tangjia Mountain Barrier Lake, perhaps the locals and staff around him would stuff his large backpack full of proud cigarettes, Luzhou liquor, Beichuan moss tea, Pingwu walnuts, Fucheng Ophiopogon, and Zhan Mountain rice dates...

A few days ago, after spending too much time in the oppressive atmosphere of Beichuan where many locals were falling into despair, it seemed to dim some of the brightness of human nature.

Moreover, there the locals lacked food and clothing, and it was mostly the troops taking care of the people.

But here, it was the other way around, including those displaced people from Beichuan, who were trying to give their limited supplies to them.

The profound relationship between the military and the civilians was infinitely strengthened during these mutual acts of giving back.

Fang Huai dodged the locals’ gifts and came out, looking for a quiet place to eat.

And he did find a quiet spot.

There were many people, however.

It was a huge carved wall with words beside it called the Shadow Wall.

What should have been a nice-looking carved wall was now covered with densely packed bits of paper.

A man was still gluing a missing mother notice on the edge.

Fang Huai moved closer to see. Around the perimeter were similar missing person notices, but in the middle were uniform lists.

Written on those lists were names, workplaces (studies) before the earthquake, residential addresses, and where they were accommodated after the earthquake.

After glancing through, he understood.

These must be the survivors rescued from the earthquake area, possibly sent for medical treatment due to injuries, or taken to a safe place by the government or military post-quake for resettlement. By posting this list, it would help relatives locate them.

The names were small and numerous, at least a few thousand, and many people had no choice but to search the list one by one.

Many names had been touched until they were blackened and blurry.

Some people reached the top of the list without finding the names of their relatives. They silently cried while covering their faces, then returned to the start of the list to go through it again.

This wall bore at least a few thousand hopes.

The people surrounding it were intently looking at the list, muttering quietly to themselves.

They were like students who were desperately cramming for a text to be spot-checked during an early morning study session, each person anxious yet trying not to disturb the others.

Next to Fang Huai, a woman was also touching the list, moving down paper by paper.

"Li..."

"Sun..."

"Liu."

Suddenly, her hand froze.

The woman stared at the spot her finger pointed at for a long while.

Fang Huai looked over and saw the name of a girl from Pingwu County, currently placed in a middle school in Mianyang.

The woman’s mouth suddenly opened wide with a hoarse "Ah!" as tears streamed down and she raised her hands high in preparation to shout loudly.

All at once.

An elbow from a man reached out from behind the woman, tightly clutching her throat and forcefully dragging her outside!

Fang Huai was startled.

Robbery? It couldn’t be, with so many onlookers—could it?

Domestic violence?

He couldn’t help but follow with his bento in hand.

He saw the man ferociously dragging the woman out of the crowd and laying her on the ground.

Fang Huai frowned, ready to intervene.

But he saw the man lower his head to look into the woman’s face, chastising in a low voice:

"What are you shouting for? What are you happy about? Huh? Our daughter has been found, but what about all these people who haven’t found theirs? With your crying and shouting, what are they supposed to do?"

Upon hearing this, a surge of emotion welled up in Fang Huai’s heart.

No wonder.

No wonder this place was so quiet.

Those in sorrow didn’t want their voices to disturb others, while those fortunate were afraid to make the sorrowful even more upset.

Restraining anger with Confucian forbearance, and restraining joy with Confucian restraint.

This was not only a wall of hope but should also be seen as a land where Confucian thought manifests itself in its most exalted form.

(Monthly ticket plus Chapter at 3000)