People fetched water and washed up. With the disaster looming, only half a day remained for their regular work shifts. Starting this afternoon, the village would officially enter its wartime disaster-relief phase. All standard work would halt, and everyone would pivot entirely to disaster preparations.
However, unlike before, the villagers' enthusiasm for fighting this disaster had visibly waned. Breakfast time, usually a bustling affair, was incredibly dull today. Most people simply kept their heads down, entirely focused on dealing with the bowls of pickled vegetable porridge in front of them. Only a few engaged in sporadic small talk.
Sitting at a table near the cafeteria window, an older man and three younger ones quickly scarfed down their meals. Before long, a large clump of snow smacked against the glass. The older man—who appeared to be in his forties—could hold back no longer. He looked up, his face etched with worry, and spoke to the young man beside him.
