However, peaceful days are always brief. A sudden, violent rainstorm swept across the village. The rain poured down like a waterfall, with bean-sized drops hammering against the ground as if to shatter everything in their path. The small bridge at the edge of the village, unable to withstand the onslaught of the storm, was finally washed away. The turbulent floodwaters surged past, severing the village's connection to the outside world.
Upon hearing the news, Liang Song immediately gathered the militiamen and rushed to the scene. By now, the Night Colors had deepened, and everything around was pitch black, illuminated only by the occasional flash of lightning that revealed the chaos before them. Looking at the destroyed bridge, Liang Song felt immense anxiety. He knew this bridge was a vital artery for the village, essential for the villagers' travel and daily lives. He shouted, "Comrades, time is life! We must repair this bridge tonight!"
Under Liang Song's leadership, the militiamen quickly threw themselves into the rescue work. Some hauled timber, others searched for stones, and some began constructing the frame of the bridge. Liang Song led by example, running back and forth while carrying heavy lumber; his clothes were soaked through with rain, yet he seemed not to notice. Blisters formed on his hands from the rough wood, but he gritted his teeth and persisted. With every swing of the hammer and every sandbag carried, he poured his entire strength into the bridge.
Chapter 459