Ye Shu woke early. She peered out her window—the ground was bone-dry, not a trace of rainwater had pooled below. The lofty terrain of Yuhai Bay kept it safe from even the most torrential storms.
She hurried through a simple breakfast, then returned to her sword practice. Her peachwood sword whirled with a fierce vitality, every swing brimming with strength.
During her spare moments, she browsed the web for updates on Jade Lake City.
The Xingfu Community had been ravaged by relentless storms. Several of its old apartment blocks now teetered on the brink of collapse, forcing residents to evacuate at a moment’s notice. The unrelenting rains struck again just as families had barely escaped, leaving all their supplies entombed beneath the ruins as the buildings crumbled into the earth.
Ye Shu tapped a video open. Deafening rain hammered the camera while anguished screams echoed with chilling clarity. One voice rose above the rest—a familiar neighbor, the same old auntie who once tried to guilt-trip her, now sprawled on the ground in a dramatic fit, wailing for the fire brigade to give her an explanation.
"That building was my life's work… I only bought this place from the landlord last year, haven’t even lived enough in it… Damn this cursed weather, my house!" The old woman’s grief spilled across the screen, raw and desperate.
The comment section overflowed—everyone chattering about the so-called Age of Cataclysmic Floods.
[Little Grass Eats Sheep: Damn! I'm a Jade Lake City local. Xingfu Community is a classic neighborhood—unbelievable that it collapsed in just two days! The landlord must be heartless, ruining so many innocent people.]
[Sky’s Thunderous Roar: We’ve had heavy rains before, but nothing like this. Forecast says it’ll pour for another week. I hate rainy days, still have to work like a dog at the company. I’m taking leave…]
[Why Ask: Have you seen the trending topic online, the 'Cataclysmic Flood Era'? As soon as it got popular, it was scrubbed. Sounds just like what’s happening here. I’m stocking up while I can!]
[Turns Out I’m the Clown: Ha, it’s just a bunch of clickbait. Look at you panic over a few days of rain? Pathetic! When it was scorchingly hot, everyone screamed apocalypse too, nothing happened. If this really is the flood era, I, Chen Lao San, will eat shit standing on my head.]
[Drunken Butterfly: The guy above’s wrong—you shouldn’t just hoard supplies, but move to higher ground, ha! Hilarious, people really buy into this nonsense. What a joke.]
The entire thread was obsessed with the Age of Cataclysmic Floods.
The forum split into two camps: preppers terrified by the endtimes, frantically hoarding, and scoffers who dismissed it as yet another rumor—the authorities already flagged and banned accounts spreading doomsday talk. Such predictions were a regular occurrence online.
More sword practice, some shooting drills, a few sessions of Wing Chun. The day slipped by in quiet routine.
But deep into the night, Ye Shu was jerked awake by a clamor downstairs.
She fumbled for her phone—2:01 a.m. The rain outside was louder than ever; she couldn’t see a thing in the pitch-black torrent. Only after opening the resident chat group did she realize the cause: the storm had overwhelmed the drainage system, leaving the underground parking lot on the second level completely flooded.
Chaos erupted in the chat.
Everyone living in this tower had money to spare, and their fancy cars were a point of pride—more than a few Hilmeibas and Lipins among them. But the rain fell so fast, owners hadn’t managed to move their cars in time.
The property management brought in pumps overnight, but with the rain unyielding, it hardly made a difference. Instead of receding, the waters climbed ever higher. Eventually, the effort was abandoned in defeat.
At 8:15 the next morning, a blanket of black clouds pressed down. The sky looked torn wide open, the deluge only intensifying.
It was so dark outside, one could have mistaken morning for night.
The school had dismissed its remaining students yesterday.
Jade Lake City issued an emergency black-level storm warning—urging residents to stay inside, stock up enough food for a week, and prepare for possible water and power outages.
And it wasn’t just Jade Lake City—across the entire Dragon Kingdom, every province was buried under rain. Even nearby countries—Island Nation, Small Cold Country, Mongolia, and far-off Great Eagle Country—had all announced storm and hurricane alerts. The clouds seemed to smother the globe, like the end of days had truly come.
By afternoon, the water had risen again—now up to most adults’ waists.
The crowd’s earlier composure evaporated. People surged into supermarkets, grabbing anything edible or useful until the shelves stood bare. Even the candies and chocolates scorned during last week's heatwave were now snatched up—no one dared be left without food.
Even here in high-perched Yuhai Bay, the floodwaters had fully swallowed the underground garage and seeped onto the ground floor.
No one was angry anymore; only exhaustion and helplessness remained.
Now, it wasn’t just a question of saving cars—one could scarcely count on personal safety at all.
On the eastern edge of the city, where the land dipped low, floodwaters had reached the second floor. If the rain didn’t stop soon, it was a certainty the first floor would disappear under the rising tide by day's end.
Ground-floor residents prayed for the rain to stop, but the sky gave no answer.
By dusk, the first floor had succumbed. The hallways were crowded with neighbors from below—blank-eyed, crouched on the floor.
A trembling old woman leaned on her cane, wiping tears from her eyes. Her son had ventured out yesterday to buy supplies and still hadn’t returned; every call went unanswered. Only her granddaughter remained at home.
A young couple traded anxious glances, hope extinguished. Their mortgaged home, newly bought, now awash in water—appliances lost forever. How would they repay what was owed?
A burly man couldn’t stand to see the old lady’s distress, especially with a child beside her. He was the first to speak: “Don’t worry, this storm will pass. The country won’t abandon us. Grandma, come to my place—I’m up on the nineteenth floor.”
A gentle-looking young woman added, “I live on the twelfth floor. We’re all neighbors, we should help each other.”
“So long as we’re alive, we can earn more money.”
“Just a few more days—this rain will end soon… I just made fried shrimp. Would you like some?”
“I’ve got a few crates of instant noodles stashed away—guess they’re finally useful!”
The community’s spirit lingered, but Ye Shu only watched in silence, her lips pressing together before letting out a quiet sigh. She turned away.
She doubted the game’s so-called Age of Floods was anything temporary.
For now, everyone managed with shared supplies and kindness. But—what about after a few weeks? Months?
Human nature, she knew, could not withstand such relentless testing.
Ye Shu returned to her apartment on the thirty-second floor. The owner lived overseas, so there was no need to worry for now. She scooped up a mouthful of yogurt, tart and sweet, with a handful of nuts—strangely comforting.
The ninth day of the game dawned.
Still the rain did not let up, not the slightest sign of easing.
The residents’ group chat was quieter than yesterday’s frantic bustle.
[201: Is there anyone who can take me in? The water’s up to my waist. I’ve lost my home.]
[203: When will this ungodly storm stop? Why is there no word from the government? At least the sister on the tenth floor is letting me stay with her. Up this high, we should be safe from the rain.]
[301: Please, let the rain stop—they just finished renovating my wedding apartment! My wife finally agreed to move in.]
[609: Ugh, the stench of romance is suffocating me.]
[1701: Congrats! Once the rain ends, you owe us a wedding candy feast.]
No one could have imagined this relentless rain would last ten long years. But that, of course, is a story for another distant day.