The once serene and beautiful place was now a scene of utter devastation. Houses had collapsed, the earth had sunk, roads were cut off, and even now, loose stones from the mountains continued to tumble down every so often.
Those who had lost loved ones had all gathered on a flat area to one side. Their bodies bore scars, and as they looked at their ruined homes, not resembling homes anymore, they cried out in heart-wrenching grief.
Underneath each pile of rubble was someone they loved dearly.
Elders cried for their children, children for their elders, and in just a few short minutes, this place had turned into a living hell.
Qin Jian felt a rush of emotion, his eyes reddening. Such tragic scenes would touch anyone's heart deeply.
The villagers were conducting rescue efforts on their own, with the village Party secretary leading the sorrowful crowd in prying apart collapsed houses and extracting people who were barely clinging to life.
