TSWPF -Chapter 58 It Collapsed

Li Qingling reached out to scoop up her little sister, who was sleeping soundly, and then pushed hard at Li Qingfeng to wake him up.

Li Qingfeng groggily opened his eyes, his voice muffled with sleep. “Sister, what’s wrong?”

“Xiaofeng, get up! Hurry—” Her voice trembled with panic. Seeing that he was still half-asleep and dazed, she bit her lip, grabbed him by the arm, and dragged him up, pulling him quickly toward the door.

Li Qingfeng stumbled after her, still foggy-headed. “Sister, what’s going on? Why are we running?” What could possibly have happened to make his always calm and composed sister so frantic?

She couldn’t even explain it herself—there was no clear reason. She just felt a wave of panic rising in her chest. A feeling that if they didn’t get out right now, something terrible would happen.

Her hand trembled as she unlatched the door. The moment it opened, the roof above gave a sharp, creaking groan—and then crashed down.

In that split second, she shoved her little sister into Li Qingfeng’s arms and pushed the two of them out the door with all her strength. She herself, however, didn’t make it out.

Li Qingfeng instinctively held tight to his sister as they both fell into the snow. Thankfully, the snow was thick enough that they weren’t injured.

But his sister was startled awake by the fright and burst into loud sobs.

For a moment, his mind went blank. Then realization hit—he scrambled to his feet, clutching his little sister, and turned around. The house had collapsed. His sister—his big sister—was nowhere to be seen.

Tears instantly welled up and spilled down his cheeks. He let out a heart-wrenching cry, “Sister!”

The little girl also seemed to sense that something was wrong and began wailing even louder.

In the silent, snowy night, their cries pierced through the cold air.

Liu Zhimou, who had been keeping watch nearby, was feeling a bit drowsy. Suddenly, his heart skipped a beat violently, making him jolt awake. Pressing a hand to his chest, he hadn’t yet figured out why he felt so uneasy when he heard two voices crying.

He tilted his head, listening carefully. It was Li Qingfeng and little Li Qingning crying—and one of them was shouting for their sister. His face changed instantly. He leapt up and ran to open his door.

He sprinted toward the Li household. When he arrived, he saw Li Qingfeng standing in the snow, thinly dressed, clutching his crying sister while calling out to the collapsed house, “Sister! Sister!”

Following the boy’s gaze, Liu Zhimou saw it—the house had been crushed under the heavy snow.

Li Qingling was nowhere to be seen. Panic gripped his heart.

“Where’s your sister? Where is she?” He ran over, grabbed Li Qingfeng’s shoulders, and shouted.

Seeing Liu Zhimou, Li Qingfeng finally felt a flicker of hope. Tears streamed down his face as he pointed to the collapsed house, choking on his words. “Sister’s inside—she didn’t make it out. It’s my fault. If I hadn’t been sleeping, she wouldn’t be trapped in there… She pushed me out—she saved me…”

Liu Zhimou looked at the snow-covered ruins, his eyes burning as though they would burst with tears. He clenched his fist so hard it hurt, forcing himself to calm down. He couldn’t panic—if he lost his composure, the children would too.

“Xiaofeng, take your sister to my house. Tell Zhiyan to go call the villagers.” His voice was steady despite the fear twisting in his chest. “Go, quickly.”

Li Qingfeng wiped his tears and nodded, clutching his still-crying sister and running toward Liu’s house. When he arrived, he saw Liu Zhiyan had woken up. He shoved his sister into Zhiyan’s arms. “Zhiyan, please take care of her!” Then, without even grabbing a coat, he turned and sprinted into the snowy night to summon help.

Zhiyan looked down at little Li Qingning, who was still crying, and began softly comforting her.

Meanwhile, Liu Zhimou turned back toward the collapsed house. He began clawing at the snow with his bare hands, shouting hoarsely, “Li Qingling! Li Qingling!”

He didn’t dare think too much—didn’t dare imagine her condition. He only knew one thing: he had to save her.

“Qingling! Answer me, please! Qingling—”

No response. Not a sound.

Liu Zhimou’s eyes were bloodshot, his hands digging faster and faster. The snow bit at his fingers, turning them red and numb, but he didn’t feel a thing.

“Oh heavens, what sin is this!” Auntie Huang, who lived closest to the Li family, had been woken by Li Qingfeng’s pounding on her door. Hearing what had happened, she and her husband rushed over.

Seeing the collapsed house and Liu Zhimou desperately digging in the snow, her heart twisted with pity.

“How could these poor children suffer so much misfortune…”

“Don’t just stand there—help!” her husband barked, snapping her out of it. She rushed over to help dig.

Liu Zhimou’s eyes reddened even more when he saw them. “Thank you…” he said hoarsely.

Auntie Huang sniffed, blinking back tears. “We’re all from the same village—no need for thanks.”

Soon, more villagers arrived, joining the rescue effort.

With more hands, progress quickened. After about forty-five minutes, they reached what used to be the doorway—and saw a hand buried under the debris.

Liu Zhimou’s whole body trembled. He grasped that hand and shouted, “Qingling! Qingling!”

But there was no response.

“Sister! Sister, please answer me!” Li Qingfeng had returned with help and grabbed her hand too, crying out.

Still, no response.

The onlookers’ hearts sank. Their digging slowed, dread settling in.

“Hurry up and get her out first!” the village chief ordered sharply. His voice jolted everyone into action again.

Piece by piece, they moved the fallen beams until they finally saw her clearly.

Li Qingling was curled on the ground, her head covered in blood.

The bright white snow and the dark red blood made a terrifying contrast.

“Qingling…” Liu Zhimou carefully lifted her into his arms. His hands trembled as he brought them under her nose—then froze. There was a faint breath.

“She’s alive,” he choked out, tears spilling over. “Qingling’s still alive!”

A collective sigh of relief rippled through the crowd. Smiles broke out on tear-streaked faces.

“She’s alive—that’s all that matters.”

“Tietou! Go get the ox cart! We need to send her to the town doctor!” the village chief barked, naming Zeng Tietou.

Zeng Tietou responded immediately, running toward the chief’s house to fetch the cart.

“Zhimou, take her back to your house and wrap her in blankets—don’t let her freeze.” The chief continued giving orders. “And you, boy—go put on some clothes before you freeze to death yourself!” he scolded Li Qingfeng, whose face had turned pale-blue from the cold.

Liu Zhimou gently carried Li Qingling home, bowing deeply to the gathered villagers. “Thank you, uncles and aunties. When Qingling recovers, I’ll come personally to thank each of you.” Then he strode quickly back to his house with her in his arms.

The chief sighed, telling Auntie Huang to stay behind and help, while the others returned home—the snow was too heavy to linger outside.

When the chief and Auntie Huang reached Liu’s home, they saw Li Qingfeng rubbing snow on Li Qingling’s hands and feet, trying to warm her up.

Auntie Huang quickly joined in to help.

When Zeng Tietou finally arrived with the ox cart, she spread blankets inside, laid down extra quilts, and helped Liu Zhimou place Li Qingling gently on it.

Liu Zhimou gave quick instructions to Zhiyan, then climbed aboard.

Li Qingfeng wanted to come too—he refused to rest until he saw his sister wake up—but Liu Zhimou stopped him. It was snowing hard, and the road was treacherous; they couldn’t risk the extra weight.

Reluctantly, Li Qingfeng agreed.

Auntie Huang insisted on accompanying them to help. The elderly village chief stayed behind, calling out more reminders before sending them off.

The snow was deep, covering the road in thick white layers. The ox cart moved painfully slow.

Liu Zhimou’s heart was pounding with anxiety, but there was nothing he could do. He pressed his hands over Li Qingling’s wound, trying to slow the bleeding. If they didn’t stop it, she might die before they reached town.

Auntie Huang looked at the girl’s blood-streaked face, her eyes squeezed shut, and felt her scalp tingle with fear. She muttered over and over under her breath, “Merciful Buddha, please bless her… please let Qingling be safe…”

Just yesterday, Qingling had brought her some New Year’s goods. How could disaster strike today? Heaven was truly cruel.

As the cart crawled along, Liu Zhimou’s anxiety grew unbearable. At this speed, when would they ever reach the town?

Zeng Tietou was anxious too, but he didn’t dare go faster—the road was covered in snow, and one wrong jolt could overturn the cart and make things worse.

“Damn this weather! Why did it have to snow so hard all at once?” he cursed. “If not for this blizzard, her house wouldn’t have collapsed—she wouldn’t be lying here bleeding…” He sighed heavily. “Let’s just hope the heavens spare her.”

Just then, the ox cart suddenly lurched and stopped—it had sunk into a snowdrift.

Zeng Tietou tugged at the reins twice, but it wouldn’t move. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the freezing cold. “The wheels are stuck—we’ll have to push!”

He wiped his brow helplessly.

Liu Zhimou exhaled sharply, gently laid Li Qingling back down, and climbed out with Auntie Huang. Together with Zeng Tietou, they pushed with all their strength until, at last, the cart came free.

Afraid of getting stuck again, Liu Zhimou and Auntie Huang didn’t climb back on. They walked beside the cart for a long while, only getting back in when the snow grew thinner.

By the time they reached the town, three full hours had passed.

After some pleading—and slipping a bit of silver—they convinced the gatekeeper to open the gate.

Liu Zhimou told Zeng Tietou to drive straight to the medicine shop he knew. He could only pray that Doctor Xu was there. If not… he truly didn’t know what else to do.

The last time he had angered that other doctor, Doctor Huang, and if they had to go to him now, there was no way that man would agree to treat her.