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

The well operator arrived on the third day. There were two of them, a master and an apprentice. The master, surnamed Wei, was in his fifties, with a dark complexion and a quiet demeanor. The apprentice, Xiao Wei, was in his early twenties and was his nephew.

Master Wei squatted down next to Building No. 1, looked at the terrain for a long time, stood up, stomped on the soil under his feet, and said, "The water level is high."

The equipment was unloaded from the truck in the afternoon. Vacuum pumps, drain pipes, and wellpoint pipes were all piled up on the open ground.

Master Wei counted the items one by one, checking twice, then turned to look at his apprentice. "Fifteen filter tubes are missing."

The apprentice, Xiao Wei, flipped through the shipping manifest twice. "Uncle, the manifest says there's enough. Is it still on the truck?" The master and apprentice climbed back onto the truck and searched again, but it still wasn't there.

Master Wei walked up to me and handed me the delivery note. "Engineer Chen, fifteen filter tubes are missing. Without the filter tubes, the well point can't lower the water level."

I looked at the order form. It said sixty items were shipped, but we only counted forty-five. That's a quarter short.

Mr. Sun handled the material procurement, so I took the list to him.

He was on the phone in his office, speaking loudly, arguing with someone. "I said it would arrive before the 15th, and today is the 14th. You're telling me there's no stock? Cancel the order? Try canceling one!" He hung up the phone, saw me, and stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray.

"What's wrong?"

I handed over the delivery note. "Mr. Sun, fifteen filter pipes for the dewatering wells are missing. Master Wei said that construction cannot proceed without the filter pipes."

He took it, glanced at it, and frowned. "Fifteen are missing? Those bastards."

He picked up his phone, dialed a number, and waited a long time, but no one answered. He dialed another number, it rang four times, and then someone answered.

"Old Zhou, fifteen filter pipes for the rainwater wells are missing. Send me replacements, I need them by tomorrow, urgent." After hanging up, he looked at me. "Tomorrow they'll arrive."

"So today?"

"Let's do other things first. Dig trenches and lay pipes, do what we can first."

I returned to the scene. Master Wei was squatting on the open ground, holding a pipe fitting in his hand, taking measurements. He glanced at me but didn't say anything.

"Master Wei, the filter pipes will arrive tomorrow. Let's dig the trenches and lay the pipes today."

He stood up and brushed the dust off his knees. "Dig a trench? Where are the blueprints?"

I took out the blueprints and showed him the layout of the rainwater pipelines. He looked at them for a few seconds, then handed them back. "Okay. Let's dig."

I called a small excavator and started digging drainage ditches around Building No. 1.

The soil was very wet; as soon as the excavator dug down, water began to seep into the trench. After digging less than ten meters, a section of the trench wall collapsed. The driver stopped and looked at me.

I squatted by the ditch, staring at the murky water, and dug my fingernail into the mud. The soil was too soft; it wouldn't hold steady without rainwater. But the filter pipes for the rainwater wells hadn't arrived yet, so the water couldn't be pumped out.

I stood up and made a phone call to Mr. Sun.

"Mr. Sun, the ditch wall has collapsed. The soil is too soft; it won't stabilize without lowering the water level."

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. "Stop digging. Do something else. The filter tube will arrive tomorrow; start pumping as soon as it does."

After hanging up the phone, I stood in the middle of the construction site, surrounded by muddy ground and scattered pipes. Master Wei had left, taking his apprentice to the materials shed; I wondered what they were doing there.

My phone vibrated. It was a message from surveyor Zhou Ming, along with a photo—a close-up of a level instrument. "Engineer Chen, I've finished surveying the original topography of Building No. 1, and I've sent you the data."

I replied with one word: "Okay."

Then I looked at the data that came in. The ground elevation was more than ten centimeters lower than the design level, which meant that more backfilling was needed than expected. More backfilling meant more money, and more money had to be reported to higher authorities.

He was talking to a subcontractor when he saw me come in and gestured for me to wait. I stood there for five minutes, listening to them discuss the unit price of the templates. The subcontractor said it had gone up, while Mr. Sun insisted it hadn't. The two went back and forth like haggling at a market. Finally, Mr. Sun slammed his hand on the table and settled on a middle price. The subcontractor left, and the office fell silent.

"What is it?"

"Mr. Sun, the original terrain is 15 centimeters lower than the design. We need to add an extra layer of backfill."

He paused for a moment. "Have you checked the geological survey report and original topographic data provided by the client?"

"It's been checked. The data in the geological survey report differs from the data on site."

"Damn it." He threw his pen on the table and leaned back in his chair. "Don't touch the backfilling yet. I'll talk to the client."

"it is good."

That night, I returned to my dorm, lay on my bed, and recalled the events of the day.

My phone vibrated at that moment.

The message Xiaohui sent included a photo of the braised pork she made, served in a white porcelain bowl. The pork pieces were small, the broth was thick, and a few drops of oil had splattered around the edge of the bowl.

"Brother Chen, I learned it."

I zoomed in to look closely; the meat pieces were irregularly cut, varying in size, some with the skin still attached. The broth had reduced a bit, leaving a glistening sheen at the bottom of the bowl. Afraid of oil splattering on herself, she always stood far away while cooking, holding the spatula high, as if reaching for something.

"It looks delicious," I replied, adding, "Make it for me next time."

"Okay. I'll make it as soon as Brother Chen gets back."

She sent a smiley face, her lips curving upwards and her eyes narrowing into slits.

Zhou Ming hasn't returned yet; he's probably still working overtime laying cables.

The filter tubes arrived the next day. Master Wei counted them; all sixty were there, not one missing. He squatted in front of the materials shed, slowly sanding the joints of each filter tube with sandpaper. A cigarette dangled from his mouth, ash falling onto the tubes; he blew it away and continued sanding.

"Master Wei, can we start drilling today?"

"Yes." He didn't look up. "I can draw it this afternoon."

At 2 PM, the first dewatering well began pumping water. The vacuum pump churned and sputtered, and muddy water gushed from the drainpipe, flowing down the drainage ditch into the sedimentation tank. The water was murky, yellowish-brown, like diluted mud.

Master Wei squatted beside the wellhead, looking at the pressure gauge, tapping his finger on the dial. "Insufficient pressure. There's a leak."

"Where did it leak?"

"You'll know once you investigate."

Master Wei and I checked the pipe section by section. We tested the joints with soapy water; bubbles indicated leaks. We checked three places and found two. We rewrapped them with Teflon tape and tested again. Finally, the needle on the dial moved up a little. Master Wei stared at the dial and waited a minute.

"Alright. Keep smoking."

He stood up, dusted off his pants, and left.

I stood beside the wellhead, listening to the gurgling of the vacuum pump, watching the brownish-yellow water gushing from the pipe and flowing into the sedimentation tank. A layer of oily sheen floated on the surface, wrinkled by the wind.

My phone vibrated. It was a message from Mr. Sun.

"Engineer Chen, Mr. Jiang from the client side will be coming to check on the rainfall tomorrow. Please make preparations."

"Okay, Mr. Sun," I replied.

……

At 9 a.m., Ms. Jiang, the client, arrived. She was a woman in her forties, with short hair, glasses, a dark blue work uniform, and black leather shoes covered in mud. She wasn't wearing a hard hat and stood at the entrance of the construction site for a while, looking around.

I went up to him. "Mr. Jiang, hello, I'm Chen Mu, the site engineer."

"Engineer Chen." She nodded, walked past me, and headed straight for the dewatering well.

Master Wei was checking the pressure gauge when he saw someone coming, so he straightened up.

She squatted down, touched the outside of the drainpipe with her finger, and then looked at the water in the sedimentation tank. She stood up and looked at Master Wei. "How long have you been pumping?"

"Starting last night, for more than ten hours."

"How much has the water level dropped?"

"Not tested yet."

She glanced at me. "Engineer Chen, dewatering is a prerequisite for pile foundation construction. If the water level doesn't drop, the piles can't be driven. If the piles can't be driven, the construction period will be postponed. Have you calculated how much the cost increases by each day of postponement?"

"Yes, Mr. Jiang, we will definitely arrange it properly..."

She interrupted me, "You guys set the schedule. If there are any delays, you'll bear all the responsibility."

She turned and walked towards the pile driver, her leather shoes leaving shallow footprints in the mud. I followed behind, feeling a mix of emotions.

She walked around the site, picked up a construction record sheet, looked at it, and asked a few questions—what was the pile diameter? What was the pile length? What was the concrete grade? I answered them one by one. She didn't say much, got into her car, and drove off.

Old Dang walked over from the drilling rig, a wrench in his hand, which he tucked behind his back. "Engineer Chen, this client is difficult to deal with."

"Just do your job well."

"Even if you do it well, it might not work." He squatted back down next to the drill and continued tightening the screws.

Mr. Sun was in his office when he heard the noise and stood by the window to take a look.

"They've left?"

"They're gone."

"What did she say?"

"When I asked about the progress, they said the water level wouldn't drop, so the construction would be postponed, and they wouldn't bear the resulting losses."

Mr. Sun didn't reply. He sat down, took a form from his drawer, and pushed it in front of me. "This is the project schedule assessment form from the client. A fine of five thousand yuan will be imposed for each day of delay."

I picked up the table and looked at it. It was filled with densely packed nodes, from dewatering to pile foundations, from pile foundations to excavation, and from excavation to the bottom slab. Each node had a date and a penalty amount.

The first milestone: precipitation complete, twelve days to go. If, after twelve days, the pile foundation work here doesn't start as planned, the first penalty will be imposed.

"Mr. Sun, the rainfall has just begun. Will the water level reach the design level in twelve days...?"

"That's your problem." He lowered his head and continued looking at the blueprints, no longer looking at me.

That's your problem.

This phrase sounds familiar. It was said by Lao Huang, the supervisor of the county project, and by General Manager Zhou, the client of the provincial project. Now, General Manager Sun is saying it too.

It was just a plain piece of paper with a few black characters, but it felt heavy in my hand after I finished reading it. I put the evaluation form on the table and pushed it back.

"Mr. Sun, I will keep an eye on the rainfall."

"Just keeping an eye on things isn't enough." He glanced at me, lifting his eyelids. "You need to figure something out. Not every construction site is as smooth as Lao Hu's projects. The client will pressure you, the supervisor will hold you back, the workers won't listen to you—you'll have to handle all of that yourself. I'll only be responsible for paying your wages; I won't interfere with anything else."

That's clear. He's not Lao Hu; he won't shield me from the supervisor, nor will he speak well of me to the client. He pays more than companies in the county, but the extra amount requires me to use my influence and energy to earn it.

"Understood, Mr. Sun."

I stood beside the dewatering well, watching the pressure gauge and the drainage pipe, observing Master Wei checking it back and forth. After an hour of pumping, the water level dropped by two centimeters. At this rate, it would only drop less than three meters in twelve days, while the designed drawdown depth is five meters.

"Master Wei, this speed is too slow. Can you add a pump?"

"Add pumps? What's the use of just adding pumps? With too few wells and too few filter pipes, no matter how strong the pumping force is, it won't be able to pump the water dry." He squatted on the ground and drew a line on the mud with a twig. "This is the groundwater level. The dewatering wells draw water from here, and the water flows slowly from a distance. If you want it to drop faster, you need to drill more wells."

Drill more wells. It takes time, money, and the client's approval, but we only have seven days.

My phone lit up; Xiaohui had sent me a voice message. I opened it; her voice was very soft.

"Brother Chen, have you eaten?"

I pressed the voice call button and said, "I've eaten. What about you?"

I sent it. She'd probably used this answer countless times before; today it was my turn. I stared at the voice message in the chat box, hesitated for a moment, and then pressed play.

She smiled and said, "I ate some too. I made it myself."

I replied, "Xiao Hui is amazing."

She quickly replied, "Brother Chen is the best. Brother Chen is the best at building towers."

Building. From one construction site to another, from one city to another, from one supervisor to another, from one client to another. It's like an invisible shackle, binding me tightly.

Not every road is easy to travel, but you still have to travel the difficult roads until you reach the end.

I put my phone in my pocket. It was getting dark, and a few lights came on at the construction site, illuminating the muddy ground and pipes. The vacuum pump was still running, chugging along.