The water kept rising. The villagers hiding in the small attic were worried that if the water continued to rise, even the attic wouldn't be safe.
The men hurried to find an escape route, but there was nowhere else to go except the attic roof. Fortunately, it seemed that fate was kind, as the water stopped rising when it reached the top of the first-floor transom windows. By then, dawn was approaching, and when everyone saw the water finally stop, a huge weight lifted off their hearts.
After a night of turmoil, everyone's eyes were bloodshot. Exhausted and disheveled, they had no choice but to doze off intermittently, waiting for the water to recede slowly.
By around noon, the water had receded to about knee height. The villagers who had taken shelter in the attic thanked their neighbor, Liu, repeatedly before wading slowly back to their homes.
As Ashan’s family returned, they saw that everything in their home, even the paintings on the walls, had been soaked by the floodwaters. The most fitting description was something Ashan's mother later wrote in a letter to her eldest daughter: "There wasn’t a dry thing in the house, including the clothes on our backs."
Faced with such a miserable sight, they didn't even know where to start cleaning up. They could only sit helplessly on the damp edge of the bed, waiting for the water to fully recede.
While the water was still retreating, the walls made of mud began to crumble. Along the waterline, chunks of the walls started to peel off. Before long, the wall that once separated them from their neighbors was reduced to half its height. The lower half, which had been soaked, completely collapsed, leaving only the bamboo frame that originally provided support.
Ashan could only smile bitterly as he waved at his neighbor through the gaps in the bamboo frame. On closer inspection, the walls of the neighboring houses had also collapsed in the same way.
For a moment, the children forgot the hardship of the flood. They laughed and greeted their friends through the gaps in the bamboo frame, even those living several houses away. Now that the walls had fallen, the entire row of houses felt like one big communal space, with no privacy left. But the children were delighted; they had never had such an opportunity to greet each other like this. Their laughter and shouts filled the air until the adults, irritated, finally told them to stop.
水，還在不停地漲。躲在小閣樓裏的村民們，擔心如果水繼續再漲上來，連這小閣樓都不安全了。
男人們趕緊尋找逃生的路，但是除了閣樓屋頂，已經是無處可去了。還好老天有眼，水漲過一樓氣窗上沿時就停了下來。此時天也快亮了，大家看到水停止上漲，心裏的大石頭才放了下來。
經過了一夜的折騰，人們的眼睛都充滿了血絲。此時真是又狼狽又疲倦，只好半睡半醒苦捱著，等水慢慢退去。
直到近中午，水已經退到大概只到膝蓋的位置。小閣樓裏避難的村民們，對劉姓鄰居謝了又謝，然後慢慢地涉水回家。
阿三一家人回到了家中，所有的東西，甚至連牆上的一些字畫，都被洪水浸泡過了。最恰當的形容詞是阿三媽在事後寫信告訴大姐的一句話：「全家沒有件乾的東西，包括我們身上穿的衣服。」
眼見這般慘狀，真不知從何處整理起。大家只好呆坐在濕淋淋的床沿，無助地等水完全退去。
就在水還在慢慢退去的時候，原來用土敷的牆開始鬆落。只見牆壁沿著水浸過的那條橫線，一片片、一塊塊的剝落。不一會兒，原來與鄰居間隔的牆壁變成了半截。下半截被水浸過的，全都掉了下來，只剩下中間原本做支撐的竹架子。
阿三只好苦笑的跟隔壁的鄰居，透過竹架空隙揮手打招呼。再仔細一看，左右鄰居們下半截的牆也全都掉下來了。
小孩子一時忘了淹水的苦，隔著竹架子空隙，一邊笑，一邊跟隔了好幾家的朋友打招呼。原來牆一掉下來後，整排眷舍幾乎變成了通舖，已經毫無隱私可言。可是小孩子很高興，他們從沒有機會可以如此互相打招呼。於是各個小名叫得此起彼落，直到大人們嫌煩喝止後，才停了下來。
