Red Sun, Ground Shakes

Early morning, the sky was off.

Here in Yunnan, the sky lightens late. It was past Mao hour [approx. 5-7 AM], but still dim and grey outside the window. Old Man Zhou got up, shuffled into his slippers, thinking of going to the well in the courtyard to fetch water and wash his face. He pushed open the door and froze.

The sky was red. Not the gold-edged red of dawn clouds, nor the brilliant red of sunset's fiery clouds. It was an indescribable red, somewhat dull, like watered-down rouge, or like rusted tin, pressing down heavily overhead. The entire dome of the sky was steeped in this strange redness. The sun hadn't fully risen, hidden behind the eastern mountains, only letting through some light that made the red even more eerie.

The pomegranate tree in the courtyard, its leaves looked as if dusted with red frost. The old hen in the coop huddled with its neck drawn in, silent. Usually, by this time, she'd be clucking noisily for food.

Old Man Zhou's heart skipped a beat. Nearly seventy years he'd lived, and he'd never seen a sky like this. He stood in the middle of the courtyard, looking up, letting out a soft "tsk" sound.

Neighbours were also getting up, one after another. The sound of opening doors, coughs, a child's cry. Wang the carpenter next door poked his head out, also stunned: "Brother Zhou, look at this sky..."

"Yes," Old Man Zhou replied, "It's uncanny."

Wang the carpenter came out, rubbing his hands: "I'm afraid something's going to happen, isn't it?"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than his wife shouted from inside: "What nonsense are you talking! Hurry up and get ready, we still need to go to town to buy lumber."

People gradually appeared on the street. When they met, the first words were always: "Did you see the sky?" "How did the sky get so red?" Discussions buzzed, faces tinged with unease. Old Man Li, the breakfast seller, came out carrying his shoulder pole, the youtiao sizzling in the hot oil. But even the steam rising from the wok was tinged red. As he fried, he muttered: "Strange things, strange things happen every year, this year it's our turn."

The town wasn't large, nestled against the mountains. Most people there lived off the land, growing some tea, gathering some mushrooms, living life at an unhurried pace. This strange weather was like a stone thrown into calm water; though it didn't make big waves, the ripples spread out, circle by circle, stirring unease in people's hearts.

Old Man Zhou's granddaughter, Xiao Cui, taught at the town's primary school. She rode her bicycle over to bring her grandfather breakfast. "Grandpa, look at this sky. People are talking about it on their phones, saying it's some kind of scattering... I didn't really understand it either." Xiao Cui was young, knew more about the world, but her tone also held a hint of uncertainty.

Old Man Zhou took the baozi, took a bite; it was the familiar shepherd's purse filling. "Whatever kind of 'scattering' it is, seeing it makes me uneasy," he said.

Xiao Cui smiled: "Don't overthink it. Hurry up and eat. I'm off to school."

She rode away, the wheels rattling crisply over the stone-paved road. Under the red sky's light, her receding figure looked somewhat frail.

The sun gradually climbed higher, but the red didn't fade. The whole world was enveloped in this strange light, even people's complexions looked unnatural. Those working lacked energy; those talking had lost their usual cheerfulness. There seemed to be an invisible pressure in the air.

Just past noon, Old Man Zhou was sitting in the rattan chair in the courtyard, eyes half-closed, planning to take a nap. He was still robust for his age these years, but his afternoon nap was a habit of decades.

Just as he was drifting off, about to fall asleep—

The ground shook.

Not a slight tremor, but a sudden jolt, the whole house trembling like a sieve shaking chaff!

Old Man Zhou was thrown violently, almost falling off the rattan chair. He opened his eyes to see the roof beams above creaking loudly, dust raining down from the walls. The pomegranate tree in the courtyard shook violently, leaves rustling fiercely. The bucket by the well tipped over, rolling noisily to the corner of the wall.

"Earthquake! Earthquake!" Panicked shouts came from outside.

Old Man Zhou reacted, scrambling to his feet, instinctively wanting to run to the open space in the courtyard. He had barely taken two steps when another violent tremor hit. Unsteady on his feet, he grabbed onto the nearby stone table. The lid of the teapot on the table jumped up, hit the ground with a "clatter," and shattered.

The shaking lasted maybe ten seconds, or perhaps several tens of seconds? Old Man Zhou couldn't say for sure. Only when he felt the ground beneath his feet stop trembling did he realize he was drenched in cold sweat, his heart pounding like a drum.

Panting heavily, he looked around. The courtyard walls hadn't collapsed, it seemed, and the house was still standing. But the ground was a mess – broken tiles, fallen leaves, and the shattered teapot lid.

The street was in chaos. Crying, shouting, dogs barking all mixed together. People ran out of their houses, faces filled with terror and confusion. Wang the carpenter ran out bare-chested, his wife following behind clutching a pillow, her hair dishevelled.

"Brother Zhou! Are you alright?" Wang the carpenter ran over, looking him up and down.

"I'm fine, fine..." Old Man Zhou waved his hand, his voice trembling slightly. "What about your family?"

"The wall cracked, a lot of things fell over, but as long as everyone's okay, that's all that matters!" Wang the carpenter said, still shaken.

Everyone gathered in the open space in the middle of the street, still reeling, asking after each other. Someone said, "That shook hard, the epicenter must be nearby." Another said, "The bowls on my table flew right off!" Someone else muttered, "No wonder the sky was so red, it was a warning from Heaven!"

Looking at the sky now, the red seemed to have faded a little, but it was still eerie. The sun hung brightly, yet its light sent a chill through people's hearts.

Xiao Cui came running back too, her face deathly pale. As soon as she entered the courtyard, she threw herself into Old Man Zhou's arms. "Grandpa! Are you okay?" Her voice was choked with tears. The school had evacuated the students to the playground; after settling them down, she had immediately run home.

"I'm fine, Grandpa's sturdy," Old Man Zhou patted his granddaughter's back, comforting her, and perhaps comforting himself too.

After a while, the town officials arrived, using a megaphone to tell everyone not to panic, to pay attention to safety, not to go back inside for now, and to beware of aftershocks. Someone brought news that the earthquake was stronger in neighboring Myanmar, and this area was affected. Someone else said Qujing had also felt it. News, true and false, circulated, adding to the confusion.

But people are strange. After the terror, life had to go on. Someone started tidying up the debris in their courtyard, others offered water to each other, some began quietly discussing how to spend the night. Old Man Li's breakfast stall had overturned, spilling oil everywhere. He winced with dismay, but first, he distributed the undamaged youtiao to the nearby children.

Old Man Zhou asked Xiao Cui to bring out the usable kettle and tea caddy from the house and boil water again on the stone table in the courtyard. Steam rose mistily, and the fragrance of tea slowly spread. He poured hot tea for the neighbours who had gathered around.

Wang the carpenter held a rough porcelain bowl, took a sip, and let out a long sigh: "Having a sip of hot tea really settles the nerves."

Yes, life goes on. The sky was red, the earth had shaken, but people still had to live. Old Man Zhou looked at the blue-and-white porcelain teacup in his hand. The tea was clear, reflecting the faint red light from the sky. He remembered decades ago, weathering other storms, times harder than now. Hadn't they gotten through it?

He took a sip of tea. Slightly bitter, then a sweet aftertaste.

The red on the horizon seemed to have faded a bit more. Perhaps tomorrow, when the sun came out, the sky would return to its usual blue. Perhaps.

Old Man Zhou put down his teacup. Watching the neighbours in the courtyard comforting and helping each other, the stone of unease stirred up by the earthquake and the red sun seemed to slowly settle within him, finding solid ground.