The rain was indeed heavy.
The water on the open space flooded over Song Ran's shoes. Li Zan held the big black umbrella. The wind was strong, but his hands held the umbrella firmly.
She kept a polite distance from him. The umbrella was wide, but the rain still fell on half of Song Ran's shoulder. She didn't mind.
He walked her to the passenger side of a military SUV and she got in.
He walked around to the driver's seat, took the big black umbrella and put it on the back seat.
A trail of water stains dripped from the tip of the umbrella.
Song Ran then realized that his left shoulder was also soaked. The navy blue police uniform had now turned black.
Li Zan started the car and reminded: "Fasten your seat belts."
"Okay." Song Ran did as he was told.
The windshield was full of rain, like a faucet had been turned on. The wipers were swiping furiously. The side windows were covered with a thick curtain of rain, and it was impossible to see clearly what was outside.
Song Ran felt like they were sitting in a glass box underwater, quiet and peaceful, with only the endless sound of wind and rain outside the box.
After driving out of the compound, he finally remembered to ask, "Where is Beimen Street?"
Song Ran replied: "Qingzhixiang."
"Yeah." He tapped the steering wheel with his index finger and said nothing else.
After all, it was midsummer, and after driving for a distance with the windows closed, the car felt a little bit stuffy and warm. Song Ran wiped the sweat off her lips, and Li Zan looked at her through the interior mirror:
"Do you want to turn on the air conditioning?"
"No need." She waved her hand. "I get dizzy when I ride in an air-conditioned car."
"Car sickness?" He smiled faintly, "Reporters have to travel frequently, right? What should we do?"
"I always try to fall asleep." She said quickly.
"Then close your eyes and rest. I'll call you when we get there."
Song Ran: “…”
She didn't want to sleep. But she couldn't figure out what to say next.
The carriage fell silent again.
She looked out the window and bit her lip, feeling slightly frustrated.
Li Zan's guess was correct. Her car must have drifted into the water halfway back.
The garrison area was on the Luoyu Mountain in the southeast of Liangcheng. At first, the route was smooth, but after the terrain dropped a little, the streets were flooded and the sewers were full. The water had nowhere to flow, and it was raging like a beast in the city. In the morning, there were still people pushing carts in the water, but now they were just letting it flow. Even the buses stopped running.
The city is empty and deserted, with only water.
The military vehicle drove through the flooded streets, splashing water high up like a ship breaking through the waves. Several times it even seemed as if the entire vehicle was submerged.
Song Ran originally wanted to give directions, but Li Zan seemed to know the terrain very well. Even without turning on the navigation, he could clearly tell which avenues and which alleys were which.
After walking for a while, she found that he seemed to have a topographical map of Liangcheng in his mind. He avoided low-lying areas all the way and tried to walk towards higher places.
Song Ran asked: "Are you from Liangcheng?"
"No. From Jiangcheng."
"Oh. You don't even need navigation when you drive."
“I’ve been here a long time.”
"How long?"
He thought back: “Three or four years.”
Just as he finished speaking, a red light appeared ahead.
He stopped the car.
One minute and thirty seconds. An infinitely long red light.
There were no vehicles or pedestrians passing through the intersection.
The car was quiet, and his fingers tapped silently on the steering wheel.
Song Ran brushed the hair by her ear and turned to look out the window. All she could see was the rain falling so closely on the glass.
She looked ahead, the windshield wipers were sweeping past, and the red countdown was flowing.
She suddenly remembered the last countdown and turned her head to see that he was also staring at the red light counter.
She suddenly whispered, "You saved me. Remember?"
The traffic light just turned green. He turned the steering wheel, looked back at her, and said, "I remember."
Song Ran said: "I forgot to say thank you to you at that time. ... So I have been looking for you to thank you."
Li Zan said, "You're welcome. It's my duty."
His tone was casual and unimportant, and he did not take it as a life-saving favor. In his view, it was just his duty and mission, just like a reporter reporting the news or a traffic police directing traffic - it was what he should do.
Song Ran originally wanted to say something, but he didn't know where to start.
She took a deep breath. The whole city was humid and she felt that what she breathed into her lungs was all rain water.
After passing a street, Li Zan turned the steering wheel again, and Song Ran came back to his senses: "Hey! ... You can't go there."
He braked and turned to look at her.
Song Ran met his puzzled look and suppressed a smile: "… That's a one-way street."
He changed gears, backed the car one or two meters, changed gears again, and got back on the road, wondering, "When was it changed?"
"The last few weeks."
"Wow." He snorted.
Seeing this, Song Ran also laughed and complained: "In recent years, Liangcheng has been building subways and roads everywhere. The good city has been turned into a large rural construction site. The traffic instructions are also changed every now and then." She said: "Our colleagues can write several social news articles every month just by complaining about this."
Li Zan tried to avoid the puddles on the road at first and didn't respond. After a few seconds of silence, perhaps realizing something was wrong, he slowly picked up the topic and asked, "Are you working on international news?"
"Yeah. The distinction is not that clear. It's also done in China." Song Ran asked, "Do you watch Liangcheng TV?"
"Look." He lowered his head slightly, scratched his temples with his index finger, and said, "It seems to be broadcasting something recently, "Before the War: Eastern Chronicles"."
Song Ran asked: "Does it look good?"
Li Zan asked back, "Were you involved?"
“Oh. … I planned that program. … I also wrote most of the materials.”
Li Zan glanced at her and said, "Not bad."
"Oh." The corners of her lips curved slightly, and her eyes were so bright that they seemed to be sparkling.
It was raining so hard outside, and she suddenly realized that she actually liked the rainy season, which she had never thought of before. She loved it so much.
But a familiar street scene soon appeared outside the window, and we had arrived at Beimen Street.
Before reaching Qingzhi Lane, the entrance to the lane narrowed and several private cars were parked in the lane, blocking the way.
Li Zan tried several times but couldn't get through.
Song Ran said, "Let's stop here."
Li Zan asked, "Can we walk back?"
"You can walk back."
"Okay." He leaned sideways to get an umbrella for her from the back seat, then moved closer to her. When he stretched out his hand, he pulled at her ink-black collar, revealing a small section of her collarbone.
Song Ran turned her head away immediately as if she had received an electric shock. At that moment, she suddenly remembered that his red string was still with her. He seemed to have forgotten and didn't remember it.
She... also forgot about it.
“Yes.”
She turned around and took the umbrella: "I'll give it back to you next time I go to drive."
"You're welcome. It's okay to keep it." He smiled at her excessive politeness.
Her heart was as soft as water. She pushed open the car door and held open the big umbrella. Raindrops pounded on the umbrella, and she heard him say, "Bokota was damaged in a fire and was rebuilt later."
Song Ran was stunned.
There is an episode in "Before the War: Records of the East" that mentions the Boko Tower in the city of Ale, saying that the tower has a history of nearly 3,000 years.
After entering the house that day, Song Ran searched for information on the damp desk all night, but there was too little historical information about Dongguo on the Internet, and there was no mention of the fire when the tower was mentioned.
She also couldn't find enough information in the TV station's internal archives.
On the morning of the third day, the weather improved and the plane was notified that it could take off. Song Ran went to the Imperial City.
On the first day, she searched several libraries and finally found a passage in a yellowed translation of a Eastern history book in the library of Ran Yuwei's unit:
"Boko Tower, now in the western suburbs of Ale City, was built in the 1st century BC and destroyed in the Ale War in 1197 AD. In the following hundreds of years, it was rebuilt by several generations of historians and archaeologists. It is said that it is less than one ten-thousandth of the original."
There is only a small text, no pictures, and no way to verify the true appearance of the tower, which was destroyed nearly 900 years ago.
Song Ran didn't know how Li Zan knew this history. Perhaps he could ask him when he drove to the garrison area after returning to Liangcheng.
She sat in her mother Ran Yuwei's office holding the book and reading it while she finished her meeting and got off work.
Someone knocked on the door halfway. It was Deputy Director Wu under Ran Yuwei.
"Eh? Ranran is here?"
"Aunt Wu." Song Ran stood up with a smile.
"How long will you stay this time?"
"One week."
"Ah, I'm working in the blink of an eye. I can't stay for a whole summer like before."
"yes."
"I heard from your mother that you went to the East Country some time ago?"
"Um."
"That's amazing." Deputy Director Wu praised.
Song Ran smiled, knowing that it was just a polite remark. Many of their young people were sent to more dangerous places around the world right after they started working. Her case was not uncommon. However, Deputy Director Wu was her mother's old subordinate, and he watched her grow up, so there was some sincerity in his words that showed partiality.
"Have you ever thought about developing in Imperial City?"
“Not yet.”
"Don't think Liangcheng is too small."
Song Ran smiled and said, "I'm just a small fish."
Ran Yuwei didn't get off work until after six o'clock. On her way home, she encountered the evening rush hour and the Second Ring Road was completely blocked.
In early July, the imperial city was in the height of summer, with the temperature reaching 41 degrees Celsius. The setting sun scorched the iron car on the cement road.
The car windows were closed, the air conditioner was on, and the air was filled with the smell of burnt leather interior.
Song Ran felt severe chest tightness.
Ran Yuwei sat in the driver's seat, wearing a white dress, stockings, high heels, and her hair was neatly tied up. She had pearl earrings and white Bluetooth headphones on her ears, and was talking on the phone, still about various work arrangements.
The car was moving in a long traffic jam, and Song Ran was dizzy from the sunset. The smell in the car mixed with Ran Yuwei's perfume was overwhelming. She was about to lower the window, but Ran Yuwei muted her phone for a second and said, "The PM2.5 value is 280 today."
Song Ran clicked his fingers and the window rose up and closed tightly.
Ran Yuwei continued to make the call.
After about ten minutes of talking, the Second Ring Road was still jammed like a parking lot.
Ran Yuwei turned on the radio to listen to the traffic conditions, but heard a message interrupting that the water level in the Liangcheng section of the Yangtze River exceeded the historical warning line. Liangcheng had another heavy rain yesterday, and the city was seriously flooded and in a critical state.
Ran Yuwei said calmly, "It's like this every year. The people there are just sitting there doing nothing and not doing anything. Twenty years have passed and the city's infrastructure has not been improved."
In 1998, Liangcheng was hit by a severe flood. That year, Yang Huilun's hometown in the countryside was completely flooded because of the breach of the dike to drain the floodwater to protect Liangcheng. She had nowhere else to go, so she came to the door with the infant Song Yang.
When the flood receded that year, Ran Yuwei went to the Imperial City alone.
Song Ran argued for his hometown and said, "It's not what you said."
Ran Yuwei had already mastered her skills at work, and she was too lazy to waste time on irrelevant topics even if they offended her. She got back to the point and said, "I read your "Before the War: Records of the East."
Song Ran turned to look at her, waiting for her to give some positive comments.
Ran Yuwei said: "It's too crude. The content is scattered, the theme is unclear, and it's pretentious. It's still fresh in Liangcheng, but it's not up to par in the whole country."
Song Ran said nothing, his face red from the setting sun.
Ran Yuwei said: "Don't be blinded by the glory of a small place. If you don't jump out of that circle, you may never see the real you. Come to the Imperial City to test whether you are real gold or scrap iron."
Song Ran felt uncomfortable. Just as he was about to say something, his nose started to itch.
She immediately raised her head and started bleeding from her nose.
"The Imperial City is too dry. I can't stand it." She vented, "The air is bad too!"
In summer, it is hot and sunny, and there is haze, which makes it look gray and hazy, like the city of Ale in the desert.