Chapter 10: The Typhoon Strikes

Chapter 10: The Typhoon Strikes

As the ninth month of Li Hongshen’s trial drew to a close, he began leading the people in constructing defenses against typhoons and tsunamis. First, the three surrounding mountains of Phoenix Perch Valley were reinforced yet again. Timber was fashioned into skeletal frames, filled with stone bricks and other materials, while the stream was widened to prevent torrential rains from flooding the camp with water from the lake.

The grain storage cave was also reinforced, and several new caves were dug nearby to serve as shelters. In the event of disaster, everyone could evacuate into these caves for safety. The houses on the northern hillside underwent reconstruction; the simple ground-level dwellings were dismantled and rebuilt with proper foundations. The former rope-and-timber frames gave way to mortise-and-tenon joinery, and the walls near the ground were coated with clay for added strength.

The simple palm-leaf roofs were discarded entirely, replaced by hastily fired tiles to create a single-sloped roof—higher in the north and lower in the south—so that even in fierce gales, there was little risk of collapse, as winds would be directed up the northern slope.

The western smelting workshop had completely ceased operation, and the waterwheel was reinforced. Inside the island, the salt and sugar workshops worked around the clock, producing refined salt and sugar. The Refiner, once sent out only once a week, now departed every three days. Three sets of fishing nets rotated continuously, and large catches were salted and stored in the caves. Every household, following Li Hongshen’s arrangements, busied themselves making dried sweet potatoes, potato starch, and other storable foods.

This flurry of activity continued until the eleventh month, when the Refiner was hauled ashore. A clearing was made in the woods near the beach, and the ship was secured with wooden frames and ropes among the trees. This was to prevent the typhoon or tsunami from destroying her—much like modern ships are beached to evade storms. If she capsized on land, there’d still be hope of salvaging her, but if she capsized at sea, all would be lost.

Li Hongshen, dressed in a rain cape, stood at the cave entrance, watching the torrential rain. The downpour had begun in mid-to-late November and had now lasted more than a week. The houses in the distance appeared hazy through the rain; the channels and streams surged with rushing water.

Fortunately, Li Hongshen had previously led efforts to raise, widen, and deepen the waterways on both sides. The camp itself now stood empty; all people and supplies, including the little crocodiles and sea eagles, had been evacuated to several caves.

At last, in the twelfth month, the wind began to rise.

Li Hongshen stood at the cave entrance, using his telescope to gaze at the immense column occupying a third of his field of vision on the distant sea horizon, marveling at the power of nature. It was a typhoon pillar. On the vast, open sea, the terrifying spectacle was clear: black clouds extending from above the pillar covered the entire sky. The typhoon whirled like a giant spinning top, dragging seawater and clouds with it. Its winds were so fierce they scattered lightning, causing it to diffuse through the clouds.

The scattered lightning flickered like rain in the lower cloud layers, glowing red and violet. Li Hongshen almost wanted to cry out, “Which fellow cultivator is passing their tribulation here?”—though, as it turned out, he himself was the one being tested.

From a distance, one could see light shimmering at the base nearest the sea—sunlight refracted through the typhoon’s eye and reflected off the water. The middle was a band of wind, a vapor ring spun by the gale, with the rapid flow of moisture clearly visible. The wall of clouds to the left of the pillar was formed by the force of the wind. Higher up, where the clouds thinned, sunlight streamed through, outlining the clouds swept up into the typhoon.

Waves crashed in rolling succession against the island. Though the typhoon pillar was still far off, the wind and waves, while not their fiercest, could not be dismissed lightly—they were of moderate strength now.

Li Hongshen’s greater worry was the rain. The typhoon-driven downpour relentlessly lashed the island, much of it ocean water swept up into the clouds and dropped back down. Li Hongshen caught some on his hand, tasted it, and spat.

“Ugh, salty, and it stinks of the sea. We’ll need a major overhaul of the fields when this is over.”

After such infiltration by seawater, Li Hongshen worried about the effect on the crops, but all he could do was surrender to the typhoon’s might. As a mere novice, not even a lord yet, he felt utterly insignificant before the force of nature.

Three days later, the typhoon pillar that once filled a third of his telescope now filled more than two-thirds, and its towering presence could be glimpsed even with the naked eye. The sea’s waves grew ever wilder, each one higher than the last, breaking against the beach and splitting in two against the lonely island, streaming long tails across the water’s surface.

A week later, even without the telescope, the typhoon pillar was plain to see—“oppressive clouds on the border” was the only way to describe the scene. The low clouds seemed to press down to the very ground.

The cave entrance was now mostly blocked by sandbags; the wind was so strong it was impossible to stand outside. Inside, Li Hongshen constructed a windbreak out of planks and sandbags, leaving a gap wide enough to let people pass and air circulate, while keeping the rain at bay.

He stood at the entrance, supporting himself against the wall, swaying with the wind as he watched the weather. The gale was so fierce it tore the sound from the air. His face rippled in the wind as if waves were running across his skin. Rain struck him with a relentless drumming, pinning him against the wall as if trying to batter him flat.

With great effort, Li Hongshen edged his way back into the shelter, feeling utterly exhausted—his back ached, his legs were weak. The tribespeople hurried to bring him ginger tea to warm him, then presented a bowl of fresh chicken soup. The warmth of humanity was tangible; at once, his back stopped hurting, his legs no longer ached, and he felt ready to brave the elements again.

As the typhoon drew nearer, seawater began pouring inland over the shoreline. The salt pans to the south were completely submerged, the fishing port’s flooring swept away, leaving only a few lonely support posts—soon themselves swallowed by the waves.

By the second week, on Monday, the wind howled even louder—a sign the typhoon was about to make landfall. As Li Hongshen emerged from the cave for his usual inspection, he was startled to see a white streak suspended in the sky in the distance. One look through the telescope was enough—he turned and ran for the safety of the cave.

(End of Chapter)