After reconfirming the spot for the blasting and doing another survey, Fang Zichen headed back.
The villagers of Xiaping Village were baffled. The prefect had simply left like that, as if the whole thing were just a game. They had expected at least a chance to curry favor with him, but he gave them none.
But the next day, everyone noticed that all the sword-bearing imperial guards had been reassigned.
When they came at noon, the guards' horses were loaded with things—it was hard to tell exactly what—but everyone knew the prefect was finally making a move. He was probably going to blast the mountain.
But that mountain was huge. What could just a few dozen people do?
Some villagers wanted to follow and watch, but the guards turned them back.
Neither Zhao Ger nor Guaizai were allowed to go up the mountain. The two stopped at Xiaping Village.
Before heading up the mountain, Fang Zichen's expression turned serious and grave: "We're about to set off the blasts. Station four men at the base of the mountain, and make sure no villagers come within half a li (250 m) of the area."
Zhang Quan: "…"
Even now, he still couldn't figure out what Fang Zichen was really up to. If his goal was to move the mountain, why had he brought along only two hoes and a heavy iron plate? It looked like a joke. And on top of that, he was keeping everyone at a distance—was he worried about embarrassing himself in front of others?
They'd made such a huge spectacle of the whole affair. The villages had earned a good amount of money from digging the canal, and everyone knew Fang Zichen was a good man who truly cared about the people. Even if the water didn't end up coming through, the locals wouldn't hold it against him. But outsiders? Who knew how they'd laugh and sneer. Master and servant were in it together—Zhang Quan had already resigned himself to being humiliated right alongside Fang Zichen.
The elderly, the weak, the women, and the children who couldn't do heavy labor in the village all knew Fang Zichen was on the move. They'd streamed out of the village to watch, and even the laborers working in the fields couldn't resist—they wanted to see what was happening. But no one got near the foot of the mountain; they were all stopped.
The four imperial guards, following orders, had strung up red hemp rope as a cordon.
Zhao Ger clenched his fists, staring fixedly at the mountain, unable to suppress his nervousness.
Tieda came over, hoping to pry out some information, but Zhao Ger had no time for him.
Only Guaizai blinked his big eyes, fists clenched, speaking with utter conviction: "Before, Grandpa and the uncles always said in secret that Father was just messing around. Only Guaizai is smart enough to know Father can do it. Now Father's made his move—soon the mountaintop's gonna explode!"
Tieda: "..."
He couldn't make heads or tails of that, except that the little boy was bragging about himself again.
Though they couldn't get close, no one left. They stood crowded together at the foot of the mountain, wordlessly but with an unspoken understanding, gazing upward. A strange tension gripped them, mingled with a faint, hard-to-name hope.
After all, the prefect had made it look so terribly real.
But after waiting for over one shichen (2 hours), there was still no sign of activity on the mountain.
No one could say whether they felt disappointed or something else—just a hollow feeling in their hearts, a bitter aftertaste.
The work had been delayed for too long. Tieda shook his head slightly and let out a heavy sigh. "Alright, everyone, go back to—"
He never got the last word out—BOOM!
A deafening blast suddenly erupted from the mountain.
The sound was immense—earsplitting, rolling across the sky like a thunderclap right next to them. Before anyone could process what had happened, a second boom followed in quick succession, then a third.
Zhao Ger's whole body swayed. He could distinctly feel the ground tremble beneath his feet; tiny pebbles danced on the dirt.
A few of the more timid ones were so frightened they wet themselves on the spot—a pattering sound.
A massive plume of smoke rose from the mountain, and everyone heard the clatter of small stones raining down.
The explosions lasted for a moment before stopping. In the silence that followed, everyone stood frozen, ears ringing.
The mountain had fallen silent—so why was that booming still so loud?
Oh. It wasn't the mountain. It was their own hearts, pounding wildly in their chests.
Mouths hung open, throats parched, their faces locked in shock, amazement, and sheer disbelief.
Mouths agape, dry-throated, their faces were frozen in shock, astonishment, and utter disbelief.
Every last one of them was too stunned to speak. Even Zhao Ger's heart was racing.
That gunpowder—so loud! Ten times louder than the fireworks they'd set off in the village that year.
Not only had everyone in Xiaping Village heard it—even the villagers over in Ronghe Village, farther away, had heard it too.
What was that sound?
The sky was clear and cloudless—no thunder!
What happened?
The noise seemed to be coming from Xiaping Village up there...
Remembering that Fang Zichen had gone to Xiaping Village that morning with the imperial guards, they exchanged bewildered looks. Then, as if struck by the same thought, they suddenly dropped their hoes and ran toward Xiaping Village.
Fang Zichen came down the mountain with Zhang Quan and a group of over twenty men, all covered in dust and grime.
They looked dusty and disheveled, but no one seemed injured.
Zhao Ger ran to him the moment he caught sight of him, with Guaizai trotting happily behind: "Husband, what happened? Are you alright!"
Fang Zichen shook his head, picked up Guaizai, and let the boy wipe his face before replying with some frustration: "I'm fine. Just a small hiccup. The explosive power of this gunpowder isn't strong enough—I'll need to go back and improve the formula."
Zhang Quan: "..."
The imperial guards: "..."
Hearing this, everyone swallowed hard.
They'd walked down from the mountain—nearly two ke (30 minutes) had passed—and still no one could recover from the scene that had nearly scared the life out of them.
What in the world was that thing?
You lit the fuse, it caught fire—and then, that huge, rock-solid mountain blew to pieces!
Earlier, they'd followed Fang Zichen's instructions—buried the gunpowder, dug the channels. Fang Zichen had pulled the fuse way back, then asked who was the fastest runner.
Naturally, it was Zhang Quan.
He lit the fuse, and the whole group hid in a ditch some distance away, covering themselves with the big iron plate. The guards peeked out through the cracks and watched the fuse hiss and burn at incredible speed. Then came the sight that shattered their worldview: the great rocky mountain cracked open. And that wasn't all—The smallest hill in front of it suddenly swelled twice, like a belly taking a deep breath, and then, without warning, exploded violently. The sound shook the land, rocks flew everywhere, and a dense cloud of dust rushed toward them faster than they could blink. After that, they couldn't see a thing. When they emerged, the little hill was gone—leveled to the ground.
The stuff they'd buried was so small—just as thick and as long as a man's arm. Sure, they'd buried a lot of it, but... how could it blow up a mountain?
A whole hill, that tall!
How could it crumble in an instant?
How was it possible?
If they hadn't seen it with their own eyes, they would never, ever have believed it.
Incredible. Absolutely incredible. Beyond anything they could have imagined.
No comments:
Post a Comment