Civil Engineering in the Mortal World: Ten Years Without Knowing Today's Events

On Wednesday morning, I was woken up by the walkie-talkie before it was fully light.

"Engineer Chen! The cracks on the north slope have widened!"

My mind was still foggy, but I was already sitting up. I pulled on my pants, grabbed my helmet, and ran outside. Xiao Liu called out "Brother Chen" from behind, but I ignored him.

The north slope. Supervisor Lao Huang mentioned it before, and we specifically increased the monitoring frequency, and the monitoring data has remained normal.

When I arrived, it was just getting light. Several workers stood at the bottom of the slope, looking up. Safety officer Lao Sun stood at the front, his face as white as paper.

"Engineer Chen, look." He pointed to the upper part of the slope.

I looked in the direction he was pointing.

A crack, stretching crookedly for four or five meters from top to bottom, was wide enough to fit two fingers in at its widest point. The crack wasn't new; it hadn't appeared today. It had probably been there for two or three days, but no one had noticed it until now.

My heart sank.

"Everyone, step back ten meters," I said.

The workers stepped back. I walked up the slope, stepped onto the sprayed grout surface, and felt the soil beneath my feet was a little soft. I walked to the crack, squatted down, and probed it with my finger. The soil was wet. It hadn't rained recently, so why was the soil wet?

I stood up and walked towards the top of the slope. The ground at the top of the slope had also cracked, a parallel crack, longer and wider than before. Standing at the top of the slope and looking down, the entire cross-section of the slope looked like a gaping mouth.

"Old Sun," I called out, "call Old Hu and tell him to come right away."

"Okay, okay." Old Sun took out his phone, his hand trembling.

I took out my phone and called the supervisor, Lao Huang.

It rang four times, then I answered.

"Mr. Huang, the cracks on the slope in the north area have widened."

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. "How big?"

"It's four or five meters long, and two centimeters wide at its widest point. The soil is wet, and I don't know where the water came from."

"I'll be right there."

After hanging up the phone, I stood at the top of the slope, looking at the crack. The wind blew by, carrying the smell of earth and concrete. In the distance, the sun had just peeked over the eastern horizon, shining on the construction site and onto the crack, making it look like a gaping wound.

Old Hu arrived in twenty minutes. When he got out of the car, he hadn't even changed his shoes; he was still wearing a pair of leather shoes, walking through the mud, and looking up at the bottom of the slope.

"When did it crack?"

"I don't know. The workers found it this morning."

"What about the monitoring data?"

"Xiao Liu, bring me the monitoring data!"

Xiao Liu ran off and returned in three minutes with a folder. I opened it and saw yesterday's data: displacement 0.3 mm, normal. The day before yesterday: 0.2 mm. The day before that: 0.2 mm. All the data was within the acceptable range.

"The data is normal," I said.

"Normal my foot!" Old Hu pointed at the crack. "You call this normal?"

I didn't say anything.

Old Huang arrived. He was wearing a clean white hat and a white shirt, and his leather shoes were covered in mud, but he didn't care. He walked to the bottom of the slope, looked up for a few seconds, then walked up the slope, squatted down next to the crack, and touched it with his hand.

"Where does the water come from?" he asked, as if talking to himself.

"I don't know. It hasn't rained recently."

Old Huang stood up and walked towards the top of the slope. I followed behind him. He stood at the top of the slope and looked around.

"Over there," he pointed to a vacant lot behind the slope, "whose land is that?"

"It's in the factory next door. It's empty, nobody uses it."

"Let's go take a look."

We climbed over the fence and walked to the open space. The ground was uneven and overgrown with grass. Old Huang walked for several dozen meters, then squatted down and used his hands to part the grass.

There's water. Not stagnant water, but seeping water, rising from underground, wetting a small area.

"Here," Old Huang stood up, "the underground water pipe is leaking."

I walked over and squatted down to look. The water was clear, odorless, and not sewage. It could be a tap water pipe or a fire hydrant. Whatever it was, it kept seeping, seeping into the soil, flowing underground to the back of the slope, softening the soil. Once the soil softens, the slope can't hold up.

"Notify Party A," Lao Huang said, "and have them get the water company to investigate. This slope cannot be touched until it's repaired."

"General Manager Huang—"

"It's not that I'm trying to stop you," Old Huang said, looking at me. "It's just that there really is a problem with the slope. Think about it, the soil is soaked in water, and it could slip at any moment. If anyone is working down there, a slide could be fatal."

I didn't say anything.

Old Hu walked over, looked at the wet ground, and cursed.

"I'll inform Party A," he said.

Old Huang took out his notebook, wrote a few lines, tore it out, and handed it to me.

"Engineer Chen, this is a rectification order. It's not a work stoppage, but a requirement for you to strengthen monitoring, take measurements twice a day, and report the data to me. No one is allowed under the slope until the water pipes are repaired."

I took the paper.

"Thank you, Mr. Huang."

"Don't thank me." Old Huang put the notebook in his pocket. "This is for your own good, and for mine too. If something goes wrong, neither of us can afford the consequences."

He left. His white hat gleamed in the sunlight, and his leather shoes were covered in mud, which he didn't bother to wipe off.

I stood in that open space, clutching the rectification notice in my hand. The wind blew, making the paper rustle.

Old Hu walked over and stood next to me.

"Chen Mu, do you think this is fate?"

"What?"

"The project is being changed, and the slope has cracked. Even God doesn't want us to continue."

I didn't reply.

"Alright," Lao Hu patted my shoulder, "Get to work. I'll oversee the water pipes. You keep an eye on the slope, take measurements twice a day, and report the data to the supervisor."

"understood."

he's gone.

I stood there, looking at the wet ground. Water was still seeping out, slowly, but relentlessly. Like this project, like my life, seeping in little by little, collapsing bit by bit, you never know when it will give way.

My phone vibrated. It was a message from Xiaohui.

"Brother Chen, we're having dumplings today."

I didn't reply.

He put his phone in his pocket and walked back to the construction site.

The workers stood at a distance, watching me. Old Wang stood at the very front, holding a steamed bun in his hand, but he hadn't eaten it.

"Engineer Chen, how's it going?"

"The water pipe is leaking, but it'll be fixed soon. We can't work down the slope for now."

"That work in the West End—"

"East District is fine. West District will be notified later."

Old Wang opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again. He turned around and walked towards the east section. The workers followed him.

I stood at the edge of the foundation pit, looking at the crack.

My phone vibrated again. It was a voice message from Xiaohui.

I didn't open it.

Put your phone in your pocket.

I crouched down and looked at the crack.

The wind blows by, carrying the smell of earth.

I suddenly remembered what my father had said—"Don't bully others."

I didn't bully her. But can I make sure she has a good life?

I do not know.

In a while, I'll be leaving the county town. It won't be like it is now, where I can visit her every weekend. I won't even be able to spend time with her. How can I let her live a good life?

And then there's Dad's health. If I'm gone, all the burdens will fall on Mom's shoulders, but Mom isn't young anymore.

What should I do about all of this? What can I possibly do?