Siheyuan (traditional courtyard house): Starting with the Korean War, returning home to take charge

For the three days following the failure, He Yuzhu locked himself in his office.

The curtains were drawn, the lights were on, blurring the lines between day and night. Data sheets were spread out on the table, one after another, like snowflakes. He circled and marked them with a red pen, then crossed them out, then circled them again.

The ashtray was overflowing with cigarette butts. On the morning of the third day, He Yushui came to deliver food. When she opened the door, she was choked by the smoke and coughed.

"Brother, are you trying to suffocate yourself?"

He Yuzhu looked up. She saw two dark circles under his eyes, chapped lips, and the bowl of noodles beside him untouched.

She pushed the window open a crack, and a cold wind rushed in, making the papers on the table rustle.

"Brother, why don't you get some sleep?"

He Yuzhu shook his head.

"Soon."

He Yushui stood there for a while, then left.

The door closed. He was alone in the room again.

He scrolled to the bottom of the pile of data and saw a line of text: Drop height 800 meters, cloud thickness 1200 meters.

It's 400 meters off.

He read that line of text three times.

Then he stood up and picked up the phone.

The next afternoon, the clouds arrived.

He Yuzhu stood on the test field, looking up at the hazy gray sky. The clouds hung low, so low it seemed one could reach out and touch them. The wind blew, making the hem of his clothes flap loudly.

Deputy Director Zhang was directing operations from the side. He wasn't wearing his glasses today, and there were dark circles under his eyes; I wondered if he'd also been up all night. Three planes circled overhead, awaiting orders.

"put!"

The first shell hit the target and exploded in the clouds. The white smoke dissipated, thicker and longer than last time.

He Yuzhu stared at the cloud.

One minute.

Two minutes.

three minutes.

There was no movement.

People nearby started muttering. One technician squatted down, picked up a clod of dirt, and held it in his hand. Another took off his hat, squeezed it so tightly it deformed.

Deputy Director Zhang's face was tense. He glanced at He Yuzhu, his lips moved, but he didn't say anything.

He Yuzhu didn't look at him. He stared at the cloud, at the dispersing smoke, at the edge of the cloud slowly rolling.

Four minutes.

five minutes.

His breathing became labored. Last time, it was also five minutes, and nothing happened.

He remembered the well in the yard. He remembered the expression on He Yushui's face when she said it was "two or three meters shallow." He remembered Yan Bugui standing in the yard with a bowl in his hand, muttering, "What is God trying to do?"

He clenched his fists.

Six minutes.

A muffled sound came from deep within the clouds.

Rumbling--

It's not a cannonball. It's a mine.

He Yuzhu's heart skipped a beat.

Deputy Director Zhang's walkie-talkie fell to the ground, but he didn't pick it up. He looked up, mouth agape, staring at the cloud like a fool.

The second clap of thunder. The third clap.

The thunder grew louder and louder, the clouds began to churn and darken.

The wind picked up.

First, a gust of wind swept through the air, kicking up clouds of dust. The makeshift scaffolding on the test site began to sway, and the flagpole was bent low by the wind.

Deputy Director Zhang took a step back, tripped over something, and almost fell. He didn't notice, his eyes still fixed on the cloud.

Raindrops started falling.

*Slap.* *Slap.* *Slap.*

The first drop hit He Yuzhu's face, it was cold. The second drop hit the back of his hand, it splashed. The third drop, the fourth drop, the fifth drop—the rain curtain enveloped the whole world.

The people at the testing site stood motionless in the rain.

The technician who had been squatting stood up and let the rain soak his face. The man clutching his hat threw it away, tilted his head back, opened his mouth, and drank the rainwater.

Deputy Director Zhang stood next to He Yuzhu, rain streaming down his face and into his neck. He didn't wipe it away; he just stood there.

"Where it grows, it's done."

He Yuzhu didn't say anything.

He looked at the gray sky, at the falling rain, and at the people standing in the rain.

The rain poured down harder and harder, soaking everything.

The news spread faster than rain.

On the third day, the old leader called.

He Yuzhu answered the call, and there was a few seconds of silence on the other end.

"Xiao He".

He Yuzhu held the microphone.

"lead."

The old leader's voice was a little hoarse, as if he had just cried, or as if he hadn't.

"It rained for four hours in Hebei. It also rained in Henan."

He paused.

"The crops have been saved."

He Yuzhu didn't say anything.

The old leader remained silent for a few more seconds.

"The higher-ups know about your rain."

He Yuzhu tightened his grip on the microphone.

The old leader lowered his voice.

"Just keep it in mind. I won't ask any more questions."

The phone hangs up.

He Yuzhu stood there, listening to the busy tone on the microphone.

He Yushui heard about it in the courtyard.

She had just returned from school and entered the alley when she heard Yan Bugui shouting in the courtyard.

"It's raining! It's raining! Artificial rainmaking!"

She ran inside and saw the courtyard was crowded with people. Yan Bugui stood in the middle, holding a newspaper, his glasses askew.

"It's in the newspaper! If you shoot something into the clouds from a plane, it will rain!"

Liu Haizhong leaned closer and looked at the newspaper.

"Can humans control the heavens?"

The second aunt stood to the side, holding the child, muttering to herself.

"I've lived this long and this is the first time I've ever heard of such a thing."

He Yushui stood outside the crowd, listening to the discussions.

She remembered her brother leaving early and returning late these past few days, remembering him still looking at those documents late at night, and remembering the pungent smell of smoke in the house when she brought him food.

She turned and ran into the house.

He Yuzhu was sitting on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), holding He Nianhua in his arms. The little one was perched on his shoulder, blowing bubbles.

He Yushui ran in and stopped in front of him.

"elder brother."

He Yuzhu raised his head.

"Um?"

She looked at him for several seconds.

"Did you cause that rain?"

He Yuzhu didn't say anything.

She asked again.

"You did this, didn't you?"

He Yuzhu looked at her.

"Who told you that?"

She shook her head.

"Nobody said. But I guessed."

He Yuzhu changed He Nianhua's position and patted him on the back.

"Don't talk nonsense."

He Yushui didn't ask any more questions. She sat down next to him, close to him, leaning on his arm.

After a while, she stood up and ran outside.

He ran to the door, then turned back.

"I'm not making this up. But I need to let them know."

She ran out.

Her voice came from the courtyard, crisp and bright.

"My brother did it!"

Yan Bugui was stunned for a moment.

"Your brother?"

He Yushui nodded, her braid swaying back and forth.

"Yes! My brother!"

The people in the courtyard were quiet for a moment, then began to talk again. Their voices were lower than before, but He Yuzhu could hear them from inside the house.

He hugged He Nianhua tighter.

In the evening, He Yuzhu sat in the courtyard.

The sky cleared, the moon came out, and the courtyard was bathed in a white light. He held He Nianhua in his arms; the little one was asleep, her little mouth moving slightly, as if she were having some kind of dream.

Qin Huairu sat down next to him.

"Everyone in the compound is talking about you today."

He Yuzhu didn't say anything.

She leaned on his shoulder.

"Your rain is really effective."

He Yuzhu looked at the sky.

the phone is ringing.

He handed He Nianhua to Qin Huairu and stood up to receive it.

It was Old Sun on the other end. His voice was very low, as if it were being squeezed out from between his teeth.

"Old He, something's happened."

He Yuzhu tightened his grip on the microphone.

"What is it?"

Old Sun didn't say anything.

A crackling sound came from the other end of the phone, like something crawling in the night.

Several seconds passed before he spoke.

"Fighting has broken out on the border."

He Yuzhu stood there, holding the microphone, without saying a word.

Qin Huairu asked from behind.

"Whose call was that?"

He glanced back.

She sat in the courtyard, holding He Nianhua in her arms. The moonlight shone on her face, as soft as a veil.

He looked at that face for two seconds.

"It's okay. You go to sleep."

He put down the phone and walked back into the courtyard.

Under the moonlight, the well opening was pitch black, like an open mouth.