Author Archives: Thandar

Although he was utterly shocked, this world already had zombies—monstrous creatures—so having something akin to immortals’ magic didn’t seem too far-fetched. Shen Qing quickly regained his composure and replied, “My name is Shen Qing.”

Song Kaiji was slightly taken aback before he smiled. “Qing, as in ‘serene as the moon and gentle as the breeze’?”

Shen Qing lowered his gaze. “Qing as in the color green.”

He didn’t know which “Qing” Song Kaiji was referring to. He had never been to school and only recognized a few common characters. His name was simply given to him because the sky was a deep greenish-blue when he was born.

But the moment he said it, Shen Qing regretted it a little. As a young man—especially a ger—he wasn’t supposed to give his name so casually to strangers, particularly to a man. His village wasn’t overly strict about such things, but it still wasn’t appropriate. So he quickly added, “Just call me Shen Xiao Ge’er.”

Song Kaiji nodded, but he couldn’t help sneaking another glance at him. So, not only was this guy a fan of traditional Chinese clothing, but he was also into Daomu Biji?

(T/N: Daomu Biji, also known as The Grave Robbers’ Chronicles or Tomb Raiding Notes, is a Chinese adventure novel series. It follows Wu Xie, a young man from a long line of tomb raiders, as he embarks on a series of dangerous expeditions to uncover hidden secrets, mysterious relics, and ancient conspiracies.)

Xiao Ge (Ge = brother) and Xiao Ge’er—just one extra syllable, but the meanings were vastly different. However, Shen Qing didn’t notice the difference. There was an uncle in Xiahe Village who had fled from the far south and couldn’t pronounce the -er sound, so Shen Qing assumed Song Kaiji was the same.

He stepped forward and scanned the items on the counter, his eyes widening even more.

Just as Song Kaiji had claimed, there was a little bit of everything, including many things Shen Qing had never seen before. Not wanting to reveal too much about himself, he didn’t ask about them. Instead, he quietly took note of their shapes before focusing on the things he recognized.

Aside from gold and silver jewelry and jade pendants, there were also a few sets of clothes and—two long knives and several crossbows.

Yes, Shen Qing had seen crossbows before. Back when Hunter Liu’s father was still alive, Shen Qing had secretly followed behind him up the mountain and learned how to set traps. The old hunter had plenty of hunting weapons, and Shen Qing remembered them all clearly. He had always envied them. He had seen the hunter use bows, spears, and crossbows.

Crossbows were actually forbidden weapons by imperial decree because they were far more powerful than bows and easier to use. The government did not allow commoners to own them. But the old hunter was a skilled craftsman—he had made one himself, though he only ever used it for hunting.

That was a wooden crossbow, and the ones on the stall had similar designs, though some looked even more refined and were made of materials he couldn’t identify. Shen Qing had never held one, but he had seen the old hunter use it to shoot down a wild goose in the sky with ease.

Earlier, the bolt that pierced the zombie’s head had likely come from one of these crossbows. And these seemed even more powerful than the old hunter’s.

If… if he had one of these, wouldn’t he be able to kill the wild boar still waiting for him under the cave? He had been gone for a while now, and he wasn’t sure if the boar had left or if it had summoned its companions.

With a crossbow, it wouldn’t matter. He wouldn’t have to fear encountering wild beasts on the mountain anymore—he could even go on the offensive and start hunting.

And perhaps… he could return to this world. His gaze flickered toward the scattered souvenirs in the shop.

These exquisite trinkets had no owner anymore, and women and gers loved such things. He could search through all these abandoned shops, gather as many as possible, and take them back to his world. At the market or in the county town, he could set up a stall or carry them on a shoulder pole to sell. At the very least, he could earn a few hundred wen.

Winter wasn’t the best time to go up the mountain to chop firewood, so this could fill the gap.

Shen Qing wanted a crossbow more than anything. But it was bound to be expensive. If he couldn’t buy it, could he rent it? Clutching the hem of his clothes, he nervously asked, “What can I trade for?”

“Hm? Everything’s up for trade. How much do you want to trade?” Song Kaiji glanced expectantly at Shen Qing’s basket.

“All of it.” Shen Qing took off his basket, removing the rope, water pouch, and cloth bag containing his food, then pushed it toward Song Kaiji. “See how much this is worth. Can I trade it for a crossbow?”

Song Kaiji: !!!

He knew it! Being kind, doing good deeds, and having a good heart was the way to go! Lady Luck was smiling upon him!

On his way back from hunting zombies, he had felt soft-hearted seeing this person shaking with a knife, too scared to strike. So he had lent a hand—and now, karma had immediately rewarded him!

The basket was heavy—probably nearly ten pounds! With that much, what couldn’t he trade for? Nothing in his stall was particularly expensive—if it were, it wouldn’t be on a street stall but in the black market.

Elated, Song Kaiji enthusiastically introduced his wares. “Of course, of course! I also think you need a crossbow. I sell knives too, but against zombies, ranged attacks are much safer. That little knife of yours is useless.”

He gestured toward the wooden crossbows. “These wooden ones are handmade by me, following the base’s official design. Not to brag, but my work is better than most others you’ll find. If you don’t believe me, try it out—I just used one to kill that zombie. Usually, I sell these for five pounds of food or fifteen crystal cores.”

After the zombie outbreak, many people lacked proper weapons to fight back. Shortly after the Red City Base was established, officials released some basic weapon-making guides, including how to make crossbows. Song Kaiji had strong and dexterous hands, so his crossbows were sturdy, well-made, and had excellent firing power—much better than the average ones on the market.

Then he pointed to two other crossbows, made of materials unfamiliar to Shen Qing. “I found these at a hunting gear store while making my way to the base. They’re professional-grade compound crossbows, imported brands, with much greater power and guaranteed quality. But they’re a bit heavy—doesn’t suit me well.” Song Kaiji had survived getting to the base thanks to one of them. It was easy to use, highly effective, and powerful, but due to its steel components, it was heavy and tiring to carry. “These go for ten pounds of food or thirty crystal cores. Honestly, for fighting zombies, the wooden ones are enough.”

Unexpectedly, Shen Qing picked up one of the compound crossbows with a single hand and gave it a few test lifts. “Not heavy at all.”

He carried over a hundred pounds of firewood daily—this was nothing.

Song Kaiji: …

This guy wasn’t taller or bulkier than him, and his muscles weren’t even that pronounced—yet his strength was no joke.

Shen Qing held the crossbow, reluctant to put it down. When he turned back, he saw Song Kaiji casually stretch out his hand—and just like that, a flat object appeared in his palm.

Even knowing that Song Kaiji had some kind of magical ability, Shen Qing was still startled.

Song Kaiji placed the electronic scale on the ground and emptied the basket. “Let’s weigh it properly. My scale is precise to two decimal places—honest trade, no tricks!”

When the contents spilled onto the counter, Song Kaiji was even more pleasantly surprised. He had thought the basket only contained mushrooms and hawthorn berries—he hadn’t expected a thick handful of wood ear fungus at the bottom.

However, mushrooms and wood ear fungus weren’t heavy. Even with the hawthorn berries, the total weight was only about 8.9 pounds.

Shen Qing was a little disappointed. The crossbow cost ten pounds of food—he was still short. He hesitated over whether to haggle but felt it would be ungrateful since Song Kaiji had saved his life.

Then he remembered—he still had his food pouch! Though cooked, it was still grain. Could it count toward the trade? Just as he was about to ask, Song Kaiji spoke first.

“Let’s round it up—I’ll count each pound of these as two pounds of food. So, twenty pounds total. Sound good? Consider it a friendship deal—if you ever get more of these good things, remember to come back to me.”

Mushrooms, wood ear fungus, and fresh fruits weren’t priced the same as regular grain. The grain biscuits distributed at the base were mixed with a lot of coarse grains, making them rough on the throat. Song Kaiji’s offer was quite fair, even giving Shen Qing a bit of an advantage.

But no matter how clearly Song Kaiji explained, Shen Qing didn’t understand at all—how could one pound be counted as two?

In their village, grain was the most valuable thing. Wild mountain goods and fruits were picked for free. While they weren’t worthless, they never sold for a high price. The traveling merchants who bought them always drove the prices as low as possible.

Especially hawthorns—they were so sour they made your teeth ache, and there was no sugar to pair them with. If not for Miao Shi enjoying them brewed in water for some flavor, Shen Qing wouldn’t have even bothered picking them. And now these counted as two pounds of grain?

He also had no idea how to read Song Kaiji’s scale. But although his mind was filled with questions, his expression remained neutral, and he simply nodded calmly. One thing was certain—he could now trade for the crossbow and still have some extra left.

Song Kaiji then took out a few matching arrows. Some were entirely wooden, while others had wooden shafts with stainless steel arrowheads. He introduced them one by one. “The all-wood ones trade at five per pound of food—I made these myself. The ones with stainless steel tips trade at two per pound.”

Shen Qing didn’t take the wooden arrows, though he examined them closely. He figured he could carve similar ones from wood himself, so there was no need to buy them. But the arrows with “stainless steel” tips intrigued him. He didn’t know what stainless steel was, but they felt like a mix of iron and copper—hard and incredibly sharp. Thinking about the wild boar he had seen in the cave below, Shen Qing gripped the crossbow bolt, itching to try it out.

“This… Can you teach me how to use it?” His face remained expressionless, but inside, he was nervous. His palm, gripping the arrow, was slightly damp with sweat. He was terrified of saying something wrong and making Song Kaiji suspicious, realizing he wasn’t from here.

Song Kaiji didn’t overthink it. Although crossbows were a fairly common weapon nowadays, different models had variations, and many privately made crossbows had unique customizations. It was perfectly normal for buyers to ask for instructions.

He stepped behind Shen Qing, wrapping around him to guide his hands. “This one is the simplest to use. Just place the arrow here, pull it all the way back, then press this button…” As he explained, he demonstrated step by step. The moment his hands covered Shen Qing’s, he immediately felt the body in front of him tense up.

◦°˚(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦

The zombie actually didn’t attack him…

Having narrowly escaped death, Shen Qing felt a wave of dizziness as his extreme tension slowly eased. Could it be that this zombie held a grudge against the man and woman ahead of him? Even after turning into a monster, it only sought revenge against them?

He couldn’t help but recall the village elders’ ghost stories about vengeful spirits, who would return to settle their grievances against those who had wronged them.

Or… Shen Qing’s heart stirred with a vague premonition—could it be because he wasn’t from this world?

Various thoughts tangled in his mind, leaving him momentarily dazed. He pressed a hand to his aching leg, where the man had kicked him, and slowly stood up. He watched cautiously as the zombie chased after the two, growing smaller in the distance.

The fact that the zombie completely ignored Shen Qing and focused solely on its original targets had not gone unnoticed by the man who had kicked him down. He widened his eyes in disbelief, but there was no time to dwell on it—without Shen Qing to delay it, the zombie was about to catch up again.

The man gritted his teeth and glanced quickly at the woman beside him. Without hesitation, he made his decision. The hand that had been gripping her arm shifted its position, and—using the same trick—he shoved her toward the zombie.

“Feng Gong, you—ahhh!!”

The woman had never expected her companion to turn on her like this. Her eyes widened in sheer disbelief. But before she could even finish her sentence, the zombie sank its teeth into her neck. A shrill, bloodcurdling scream rang out before abruptly cutting off.

The scent of fresh blood spread rapidly through the air. The zombie finally halted its pursuit and crouched down, feasting greedily on its new meal.

The man showed only a flicker of guilt in his expression before he looked away from the woman’s corpse. Then, his gaze swept over Shen Qing once more before he turned and bolted. Up ahead, there was a row of small storefronts. With a few quick turns, he disappeared completely from Shen Qing’s sight.

Shen Qing stared, eyes wide, as the zombie gnawed at the woman’s mangled corpse. The gruesome, blood-soaked scene churned his stomach violently. He wanted to vomit, but he held back, afraid of making a sound that would attract the feeding zombie’s attention.

Up until now, he still wasn’t sure if the zombie truly wouldn’t attack him or if it had just prioritized its other targets first. Once it finished with the woman, would it turn back to eat him?

He wanted to run. But after the kick and the fall, his leg throbbed painfully, and his ankle seemed to be twisted. Though Shen Qing had endured hardship his whole life and had a high tolerance for pain, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sprint like before. If the zombie came for him next, there was no way he could escape.

Then… why not strike first?

Staring at the zombie’s hunched back, watching it gorge itself without a care, an audacious idea took root in Shen Qing’s mind.

He slowly dragged his injured leg forward a few steps. The zombie didn’t react to his approach, remaining fixated on its “meal.” Swallowing hard, Shen Qing carefully raised his hatchet, preparing to get a little closer—

Something sliced through the air with a sharp whistle.

A single arrow shot straight through the zombie’s skull. The creature’s body stiffened instantly before collapsing lifelessly onto the woman’s mangled remains.

Shen Qing watched as a tall, lean figure leaped down from the rooftop of a nearby building. With quick, agile steps, the man reached the zombie and, without hesitation, drove a dagger into its skull. He twisted the blade a few times before digging out a small, glistening crystal-like object.

This man was taller than Shen Qing, with long limbs and a strikingly sharp, handsome face. There was no birthmark on his forehead, clearly marking him as a man.

Shen Qing watched as the man casually wiped the small crystal clean, seemingly about to pocket it. But then, as if suddenly remembering something, he turned to look at Shen Qing, who was still sitting on the ground, startled by the flying arrow.

With a slight smirk, he held up the crystal and gave it a small shake. “I didn’t steal your kill, did I? You hesitated for so long.” His gaze flickered to Shen Qing’s injured leg, his eyes briefly darkening. “You’re hurt?”

Shen Qing didn’t notice the fleeting cold glint in the man’s eyes. Instead, he found his tone unexpectedly gentle—softer and warmer than any young man had ever spoken to him before. It almost sounded like concern.

The unfamiliar kindness made him slightly uncomfortable, and his own voice instinctively softened to match. “I got kicked and fell earlier. My ankle feels twisted… it hurts a little, but it’s nothing serious.” He then glanced at the dead zombie on the ground and exhaled deeply, his tense body finally relaxing. “I should be thanking you.”

Shen Qing’s legs felt weak. The tension he had been holding onto completely drained away the moment the zombie was killed, and cold sweat poured down his back, soaking his shirt. He guessed that “stealing the kill” referred to taking down the zombie first, and it seemed like the shiny little crystal dug out from the zombie’s head was something valuable. But Shen Qing didn’t feel like the man had stolen anything—on the contrary, he was grateful that he had helped him deal with the zombie.

“It’s nothing. As long as you didn’t get bitten, that’s what matters.” The man before him pocketed the crystal and subtly exhaled in relief—he had been worried that Shen Qing might mutate right before his eyes.

The apocalypse had been going on for almost a year now, and the sight of people betraying and sacrificing their companions to buy themselves time was an everyday occurrence. Some ability-user squads even specifically recruited ordinary people as temporary members, just so they could push them forward as bait when danger struck.

He had arrived late and hadn’t seen the part where the zombie completely ignored Shen Qing, simply assuming that Shen Qing and the dead woman had been pushed out by their teammate as disposable pawns. Still, he thought Shen Qing was extremely lucky—of the two, only the woman had been eaten, while Shen Qing remained unharmed.

After observing Shen Qing for a few moments, the man started to feel something was off. Even in the apocalypse, where people no longer had the means to groom themselves, this kind of outfit—patched and repatched all over—was something he had only ever seen in period dramas. The apocalypse had only started less than a year ago, so how could clothes be this worn out already? And looking closely, wasn’t this an ancient-style short robe?

However, despite its ragged appearance, the outfit was unexpectedly clean. Since the apocalypse, water sources had been polluted, and the only drinking water available came from bottled supplies produced before the disaster or purified water from water-ability users. No one wasted it on washing clothes.

Most people in the survivor bases wore filthy, unwashed clothes that were still intact. But Shen Qing was the complete opposite—his clothes were tattered but spotless.

Not just his clothes, but his face and hair were also quite clean… and he even kept his hair long? The man found it quite amusing—was this some kind of traditional clothing enthusiast who insisted on wearing hanfu even in the apocalypse?

Shen Qing felt uncomfortable under the man’s scrutinizing gaze. He was now fully aware that he had arrived in another world. The people here dressed completely differently, with their hair cut extremely short. His own appearance made him stand out like a sore thumb.

Fortunately, the man didn’t ask any direct questions, or Shen Qing wouldn’t have known how to explain himself. His gut told him that it was best not to reveal his origins, but he wasn’t particularly good at lying, let alone coming up with a convincing story on the spot.

The man’s gaze shifted behind Shen Qing. “Are those yours?”

Shen Qing was momentarily confused. He turned around and noticed a few mushrooms and hawthorn berries scattered on the ground. Only then did he remember his backpack and reached behind to check it. Earlier, when he was kicked and fell, some of the contents must have spilled out. But at the time, he had been too focused on surviving to care about a few fallen mushrooms and berries.

“They’re mine.” Shen Qing reached out and gathered the ones closest to him, putting them back into his basket. A couple of hawthorn berries had been crushed, so he decided to leave them—there were plenty more in the mountains. But when he turned back, he caught the man staring intensely at the two crushed hawthorn berries with an expression Shen Qing found oddly familiar.

It was the same look he himself had when he stood outside the abandoned shops, hesitating over whether to scavenge for items inside.

Shen Qing understood immediately and handed the crushed berries to the man. “Do you want them?”

The man nodded eagerly and carefully cupped the berries in his hands, as if they were a rare treasure. He looked at Shen Qing’s basket and hesitated before asking, “Can I trade for some more?”

“Trade?” Shen Qing tilted his head. Was bartering more common in this world? In his village, people occasionally bartered goods at the market, but not often—it was inconvenient, and the value of items was hard to measure. Still, it wasn’t unheard of.

He had originally planned to just give the man a few for free, considering the man had saved his life. But Shen Qing was also curious about the items of this world, so he agreed. At worst, he could let the man have the better end of the deal as a form of gratitude. “Sure. What do you want to trade?”

The man glanced around, then pointed to a nearby storefront. “Let’s go inside to talk.” Negotiating in the middle of the street didn’t seem proper, and he also didn’t want to risk others noticing the fresh fruit and snatching them up first.

He looked at Shen Qing, who was still sitting on the ground, and extended a hand. “Does your leg still hurt?”

Shen Qing hesitated, glanced at the man’s face, then shook his head instead of taking the offered hand. He pushed himself up on his own. “It’s fine. Let’s go.”

By now, his leg didn’t hurt as much—it wasn’t a serious injury, and he realized that his earlier weakness had been more from shock than actual pain.

The place they entered was a small souvenir shop. It wasn’t much more than a simple stall, built with flimsy materials. This row of shops had three units in total—one had sold ice cream and thick yogurt before the apocalypse, while the other sold hand-grab pancakes and fried chicken cutlets.

Compared to the neighboring food stalls, this souvenir shop had been looted but was relatively clean. There were no bloodstains or rotting flesh, which was a rarity in the apocalypse. Shen Qing’s gaze drifted toward a pile of scattered trinkets in the corner.

There were folding fans, hairpins, beaded bracelets, small decorative gourds, embroidered handkerchiefs, and pouches—each one beautifully crafted.

“What do you want to trade?” Shen Qing asked, but his mind was already wandering. Now that he understood that zombies roamed this world and that these shops were abandoned, it was likely that their owners were either dead or had turned into zombies.

So… could he take these things after this man left?

Before he could fully consider the idea, the next moment left him utterly speechless.

The man cleared a space on the counter, and suddenly, a thick bundle wrapped in cloth appeared out of thin air. He casually unrolled it as if this was nothing out of the ordinary.

Shen Qing’s jaw nearly dropped.

The man smoothly spread out the items inside. “So, what do you want? I have a little of everything—weapons, clean clothes, electronics, snacks, cosmetics, gold and jewelry… I usually set up my stall near the southern wall of the base.” As he finished arranging his goods, he finally asked, “By the way, I never got your name. I’m Song Kaiji—Kaiji, like ‘beginning’ and ‘clear skies after rain.’”

◦°˚(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦

Shen Qing was full of doubt.

He was extremely familiar with this cave. Not only had this tunnel never been here before, but even when he first climbed up and placed his basket earlier, it hadn’t been there… Had he just not noticed it?

Still, even if he wasn’t the only one who knew about this cave as a resting spot, who would go through the trouble of digging out a tunnel here?

Curious, he stepped into the passage. At the end, there was an opening large enough for two people to pass through while slightly crouching.

For Shen Qing, this was practically a gift from the heavens—he was still trapped with a wild boar blocking the exit, unable to leave. But now, another way out had appeared. Though he didn’t know where it led, as long as it took him around the boar and back to the village, he wasn’t going to hesitate. There was no time to dwell on why this tunnel had suddenly appeared.

He quickly slung his basket onto his shoulder and stepped through the passage.

On the other side, he was still in the mountains—but not the ones he was familiar with.

This was a landscape of massive stone formations, piled together like the artificial rock gardens of wealthy households. There was no grass or vegetation, only sheer rock. He seemed to be at the center of this peculiar stone formation, and finding a way out would require navigating a twisting, maze-like path.

What startled him even more was that the ground beneath his feet wasn’t soil—it was smooth and gray, something he had never seen before.

Shen Qing knew the back mountain well. There were places he rarely went, and some he had visited once or twice with Old Man Liu. But this—this enormous, artificial-looking rock formation—should have been impossible to miss, even from afar. Yet he was certain he had never seen it before.

His confusion deepened. More than that, he feared getting lost in an unfamiliar place—or worse, encountering more wild beasts.

His steps hesitated, but from behind, the sound of the boar’s growls and the crashing of trees echoed from the cave.

Shen Qing tightened his grip on his basket and steeled himself. What was there to fear? If he didn’t try, how would he know if there was a way out? For all he knew, once he got past these towering stones, he might recognize the landscape again.

And even if he didn’t, he could always come back. Giving up without trying just wasn’t his style. How could he accept that?

Taking a deep breath, Shen Qing gripped his hatchet tightly and began walking toward the edge of the stone formations. Still, today’s encounter with the boar had taught him a lesson—so every ten steps, he carved a mark into a rock or the ground to leave a trail, while keeping his senses on high alert for any sounds around him.

After about fifty steps and descending a long flight of stone stairs, he could no longer hear the wild boar’s cries behind him. Soon, he emerged from the stone maze.

With the towering rock formations no longer blocking his view, the land ahead suddenly opened up.

Standing at the foot of the artificial mountain, he saw a vast, open space stretching before him. The ground was still that same smooth, gray surface, much harder than regular soil. In the distance, massive structures loomed—soaring into the sky, some shaped like pillars, some rectangular, some round, and others… in forms he couldn’t even describe.

This was not the back mountain.

Shen Qing swallowed hard.

Where… was this place?

Everything about it felt unnatural—this wasn’t his world.

His heartbeat pounded against his ribs, growing faster and faster until his ears and cheeks burned. Logic screamed at him to turn around and head back to the cave—to retreat before he ran into something even more dangerous than the boar.

But for some reason, something inside him resisted that thought.

Instead, he took a deep breath, steadied himself, and moved forward, stepping toward the towering, rectangular structures.

Shen Qing had always been fearless.

Other gers dared not fight the village boys—he dared.

No one dared to venture deep into the mountains—for the sake of survival, he did.

When others would have cowered, he severed ties with his father and left the Shen family to forge his own path.

Again and again, he had done what others wouldn’t dare. Because he was bold enough to fight for his future, no one could bully him anymore. Because he had courage, he could live the life he had now.

And now, faced with an unknown and bizarre world, he wanted to be brave once more—to see what lay ahead.

There’s an old saying: the bold thrive, the timid starve.

Shen Qing had always believed in that.

Besides… there was something unexplainable pulling at him, urging him forward. A strange, gut feeling told him that this might be an opportunity—a chance to change his fate.

The path remained eerily empty.

The scenery around him only became more surreal—strange flowers and plants arranged in odd but precise patterns, their beauty unlike anything he had ever seen. Towering, abandoned buildings stood with their massive doorways left wide open, filled with scattered, unfamiliar objects. Shen Qing lingered at one such entrance but ultimately resisted the urge to go inside and take anything.

Further ahead, there was a strange circle of horses—not real ones, but decorated with luxurious embellishments, standing still in a perfect formation. There were also floating carriages and ships suspended in midair—held up by some unknown force.

They didn’t seem to be made of wood, yet he couldn’t say what material they were.

But there were also unsettling signs—dark red and black stains smeared across walls and ground surfaces, looking eerily like dried blood. Some places even had decaying, unidentifiable remains, emitting a faint stench of blood and rot.

Shen Qing’s nerves tensed. He quickened his pace, walking another mile or two. Then, finally, in the distance, he heard something—human voices.

It wasn’t just a few people talking. It was a large crowd, noisy and bustling, like a market gathering.

Shen Qing’s spirits lifted. Just as he was about to speed up and head toward the voices, a thunderous roar exploded behind him.

It was a sound he had never heard before—so loud and powerful that it made him stop in his tracks, frozen.

Turning sharply, he saw three figures riding a strange, metallic horse.

Two men and one woman, all dressed in peculiar clothing, completely unlike anything he had seen before.

It was the first time he had encountered anyone since arriving in this place. Just as he was observing them closely, the man in the front suddenly convulsed, his body seizing violently, before tumbling off the strange iron horse.

The machine lost balance and overturned, crashing onto the ground and skidding far ahead.

The other two riders—panicked and frightened—scrambled up from the ground, abandoning their fallen companion as they bolted forward, running for their lives.

“It changed! It changed! Xiao Wang has been infected!” the woman screamed in terror.

The man who had fallen from the iron horse twitched on the ground for a few moments. In just a few breaths’ time, his body twisted grotesquely, and he staggered to his feet, letting out a roar even more terrifying than a wild boar before lunging after his fleeing companions.

Shen Qing instantly sensed danger. He gripped his hatchet tightly, took a few steps back, and pressed himself against the wall. He had no idea what was happening, nor where to run, or even if he should.

The person called Xiao Wang was frighteningly fast. The two people in front of him were about to be caught, but then they spotted Shen Qing standing there with his hatchet. Their eyes lit up with desperate hope, and they shouted, “Save us!”

They had already reached him in the blink of an eye. Now that they were out of the way, Shen Qing could see the thing chasing them clearly.

In just that short moment, the man’s exposed skin, including his entire face, had turned a sickly blue-purple. His mouth and nose were rapidly decaying, oozing yellowish-white pus. His eyes were bloodshot, his nails had blackened and grown sharp.

That wasn’t a living person anymore! Even the zombies from the village elders’ ghost stories weren’t this horrifying!

Yet just a moment ago, he had been a normal person, riding that iron horse…

No matter how bold or strong Shen Qing was, he was terrified. He didn’t even dare to face a wild boar head-on—how could he possibly deal with a ghostly monster? His small hatchet was completely useless! Without hesitation, he spun around and started running.

Shen Qing had done farm work his whole life, frequently carrying over a hundred pounds of firewood through the mountains. His stamina was excellent, and with his long legs, he quickly outpaced the other two.

The man and woman had initially assumed Shen Qing was a seasoned fighter against zombies when they saw his weapon, but when they realized he had no intention of stopping the creature, their panic only deepened.

The zombie was closing in fast. The man, desperate, reached out and shoved Shen Qing. “You have a knife—kill it already!”

“I can’t! I’d lose!” Shen Qing shot back, running for his life. What a joke! This man had no red mark on his forehead, was taller and stronger than Shen Qing himself—clearly a grown man. If even he was too scared to fight this thing, why did he expect Shen Qing, a ger, to do it?

And what could his barely two-foot-long hatchet possibly do against that thing?

Why should he throw his life away for two complete strangers? Shen Qing wasn’t an idiot!

Seeing that Shen Qing refused to fight the zombie, the man clenched his jaw and suddenly turned, kicking Shen Qing hard in the knee. Shen Qing hadn’t expected him to pull something like that and was caught off guard. He tumbled to the ground.

“Feng Gong!” The woman gasped, staring at the man in shock.

“What are you waiting for? If we don’t sacrifice him, we’ll die instead!” The man grabbed the stunned woman and dragged her forward.

The woman hesitated, casting a glance back at Shen Qing, but in the end, she didn’t stop running.

People were truly vile!

Pain flared in his knee, and the fall had also jostled his injured arm, sending another sharp sting through his body. At that moment, realization struck him like a hammer.

That was why there were so many bloodstains on the ground and walls. That was why there were those mysterious, rotting remains.

People in this world could turn into these creatures—these “zombies”—and they ate humans.

Shen Qing was furious.

Twice in a single day, he had faced life-threatening danger. He regretted his recklessness, his carelessness, but there was no time for regret. The monster was almost upon him.

He had fought so hard to break free from the Shen family, to carve out a better future for himself and his mother. If he died here, how would his mother survive?

He couldn’t die here! His mother was still waiting for him at home!

Cursing the bastard who had kicked him down, Shen Qing’s overwhelming desire to live gave him strength. With his uninjured hand, he gripped his hatchet tightly.

He forced himself to think—this creature had been a normal man just moments ago. It wasn’t much taller or stronger than him. Back in the village, he could have beaten two of these men barehanded.

Now, he even had a weapon.

Why should he lose?

Fine! Don’t think about its face. Don’t think about its face. Just pretend it’s a wild boar!

Shen Qing chanted to himself under his breath. Just as he was about to go all out against the creature barreling toward him, something strange happened.

The zombie ran right past him.

It even tripped over his leg.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze.

The zombie hesitated briefly, but then, as if Shen Qing didn’t even exist, it completely ignored him and continued chasing after the fleeing man and woman.

Shen Qing quickly pulled his leg back, heart pounding.

◦°˚(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦

Shen Qing placed the cloth bag of pancakes, his water pouch, and the rope for bundling firewood into a small basket. The basket wasn’t large—it could be carried on his back or held in one hand. Normally, he didn’t use it, simply tying the water pouch and bag around his waist. But today, he planned to head to a hawthorn grove where the fruit was ripe, so he intended to pick some to bring home.

After informing Miao Shi, Shen Qing grabbed his hatchet and headed into the mountains. Previously, Miao Shi had suggested buying an axe so that Shen Qing could cut down larger logs and carry them home, allowing her to split them into uniform firewood. This way, they could work more efficiently and perhaps gather three loads of wood a day.

However, Shen Qing refused, mainly because he was concerned about Miao Shi’s health. In his mind, it was already bad enough that he couldn’t earn enough to get her proper medical treatment—how could he let his mother do such physically demanding work? No matter what, he wouldn’t allow it. He only let Miao Shi handle light household chores.

Back when they lived at the Shen household, even though Shen Qing took on the heavy labor, Miao Shi’s days were far from easy. She had to wash clothes for the entire family, cook meals for everyone, and handle all the smaller tasks like washing dishes, cutting grass for the pigs, feeding the pigs and chickens, cooking pig slop, and sweeping the yard. Shen Qing had to work the fields, so he couldn’t always watch over her. From morning to night, she was as busy as a spinning top.

Now, there were only the two of them in the house, along with a few chicks. Since Shen Qing was out working all day and didn’t come home for lunch, Miao Shi suddenly found herself with much more free time, something she wasn’t used to.

She had always been someone who couldn’t sit idle. Since she couldn’t do heavy labor, she gathered some rush grass from the fields and sat on the heated kang bed, weaving mats. In the village, almost everyone—men, women, young, and old—knew how to weave, whether it was mats, baskets, backframes, or even simple covers. It was just a matter of skill.

Miao Shi was of average skill—not exceptionally good, but not bad either. Her work wasn’t fine enough to sell, but it was sturdy and useful for household use.

These mats weren’t just for keeping cool in the summer; they also served as bedding to keep moisture and bugs away from the sleeping area, making it much more comfortable than just using straw. They could also be spread on the ground for drying grains or vegetables, and even used as wind-blocking door curtains.

Winter was approaching, and since they couldn’t afford to buy fabric for proper curtains, they planned to weave extra mats instead.

For Miao Shi, this wasn’t even work—it was practically resting. She had just finished making breakfast, and the kang bed was still warm. With her head lowered, her hands moved swiftly, weaving piece by piece, turning this rented house into a real home.

---

Shen Qing followed the slope behind their house into the mountains, walking for half an hour before stopping. By then, he had already left behind the areas where villagers typically gathered firewood or foraged for wild vegetables. The deeper parts of the mountains were rarely visited. When he was younger and often went hungry, he would venture into these depths to gather mushrooms and steal bird eggs. The areas near the village were always picked clean by other children, but the deep forest, where few dared to go, had plenty left.

Shen Qing often roamed the mountains and had long since memorized which areas were safe, where to find good wild fruits, and even discovered a few secret spots for roasting food.

The place he arrived at today was one of those hidden spots. To the southeast stood a towering banyan tree, its roots nestled against the mountain wall. What made this spot truly unique was the presence of a cave in the mountainside, two or three people tall. It was impossible to climb up directly; one had to scale the thick branches of the banyan tree to reach it. The cave’s entrance was concealed by dense shrubs and wildflowers growing from the cracks in the rock. With the banyan tree’s massive canopy covering it, the cave was completely hidden unless someone looked closely.

Shen Qing had discovered this cave by accident. Initially, he had climbed the banyan tree to search for bird nests but ended up stumbling upon the cave. Since then, he had treated it as one of his secret hideouts. In the past, he had roasted food there, and when he found something valuable in the mountains that he couldn’t take home immediately, he would store it in the cave—its high ground kept it safe from small animals.

Shen Qing was agile, so climbing up and down wasn’t difficult for him.

Later, when he started secretly selling firewood and earning money, he used some of his earnings to buy a fire starter, a clay pot, and some salt, which he stored in the cave, making roasted bird eggs even tastier.

Placing his small basket beneath the banyan tree, Shen Qing didn’t rush to chop wood. Instead, he began gathering wild food.

The deep mountains were full of treasures, but few people dared to venture this far, leaving the land covered in wild greens, many of which had grown old and overgrown. After a few autumn rains, the forest floor wasn’t muddy, but the dampness had encouraged clusters of mushrooms and wood ear fungus to sprout along rotting logs and damp tree trunks. A little further ahead stood several hawthorn trees, their branches laden with bright red fruit.

On the eastern slope, a large persimmon tree bore plump, sweet fruit. If he dared to venture even deeper, he could find walnut and chestnut trees—both valuable finds. However, that area occasionally showed signs of wild animals, and even Shen Qing didn’t dare to visit too often.

Before long, his small basket was filled with mushrooms, wood ear fungus, and hawthorn berries. Leaving the basket inside the cave for safekeeping, Shen Qing finally began chopping firewood.

He didn’t just chop down any tree at random. Though this was the deep forest, and no one would stop him, he still felt reluctant to cut down perfectly good trees. Instead, he searched for dead or rotting trees, ones infested with insects, or branches that had grown too far outward and needed trimming. Whenever he took from the forest, he also made a habit of planting cuttings or burying seeds, hoping to replenish what he took.

As he worked, he gradually strayed farther from the banyan tree. Just as he noticed fresh animal tracks and the sound of heavy breathing, he realized he had ventured too far.

Shen Qing tensed, locking eyes with a lone young wild boar not far ahead.

The wild boar also stared at him.

They said that among wild animals, you should fear tigers the most, bears the second, and wild boars the third. Especially in winter, wild boars were known to be particularly aggressive. Fortunately, this one wasn’t fully grown—it looked like an adolescent that had wandered off on its own, possibly to roll in the mud. Its body was still covered in wet sludge.

Even so, Shen Qing knew better than to engage directly. He was even more wary of the possibility that its mother might be nearby.

In just a few heartbeats, he made his decision.

Before the wild boar could charge, he spun around and sprinted toward the banyan tree.

The young boar, either playing or mistaking him for prey, kicked up its hooves and charged after him.

Two legs could never outrun four.

Even though Shen Qing deliberately weaved between trees to slow the wild boar down, he was eventually caught. One of its long tusks scraped past his arm, immediately drawing a trail of blood droplets. He was lucky—if he hadn’t dodged in time and the tusk had pierced his stomach instead, he would have lost his life then and there.

The scent of blood seemed to excite the boar even more, and it let out a long, piercing howl. Thankfully, Shen Qing had already reached the large banyan tree. Gritting his teeth through the pain, he sprinted the last few steps and leaped onto the tree, climbing up swiftly along its thick branches before disappearing into the cave.

Only after making it safely inside did the tension in his mind finally snap. A wave of cold sweat broke out on his back. It was only now, in hindsight, that he truly understood why Tongsheng Miao had called him reckless and why his uncles had been so worried about his decision to become a woodcutter. The forest didn’t seem all that dangerous—until the moment you actually encountered a wild beast.

Peering over a large stone at the cave entrance, Shen Qing looked down and saw the boar still lingering below, agitated by the scent of blood. It refused to leave, letting out loud cries and occasionally ramming its head against the banyan tree he had climbed.

Fortunately, wild boars couldn’t climb trees.

Leaning against the stone, Shen Qing panted heavily. Blood dripped from the wound on his arm. After a long moment of recovery, he sat up with effort and reached for the wild chrysanthemums growing near the cave entrance. He squeezed the milky white sap from the stems and applied it to his wound.

This was an old hunter’s remedy he had learned from Old Man Liu. It worked well for minor cuts and scrapes—the sap from wild chrysanthemums had coagulating properties that helped stop bleeding and speed up healing.

Though the wound looked long and rather gruesome, it wasn’t too deep. Shen Qing picked every wild chrysanthemum he could find at the cave entrance and finally managed to stop the bleeding. Then, he tore off the lower hem of his inner garment and wrapped it tightly around his arm. Normally, he would never have wasted fabric like this—this inner garment was newly made after he and his mother left the Shen family. But the scent of blood could attract more wild beasts, so he had no choice.

Once his wound was bandaged, he looked down and saw that the boar still hadn’t left. This troubled him.

First, he feared that the boar’s loud calls would attract more of its kind—after all, wild boars were pack animals.

Second, he was worried about being trapped in the cave overnight. He could endure it; the cave wasn’t too cold yet, and he had fire starters and dry wood stored inside. But if he didn’t return home by nightfall, Miao Shi would undoubtedly worry. If she only stayed home feeling anxious, that would be fine, but the worst-case scenario was if she came into the mountains looking for him and ended up running into the boar herself. That would be truly dangerous.

Just as he was racking his brain for a way to drive the boar away, something caught his eye—a faint glimmer of light.

Shen Qing turned his head sharply and noticed something strange.

This cave, which he had visited so many times before, was… different.

Originally, the cave was shallow, with a rounded, semi-circular shape. But now, at the far end, a conical passage had appeared—one that hadn’t been there before.

At the very end of this tunnel, there was a small opening, and from it, a faint light seemed to flicker.

◦°˚(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦

Second Aunt Lian sat and chatted with Miao Shi for a while before getting up to leave with her daughter. “I still have pigs to feed at home. If I feed them a little late, they won’t starve, but my sister-in-law will definitely have something to say about it.”

Her expression carried a hint of helplessness. No one’s life was perfect—she had a harmonious marriage, sons and gers, and a mother-in-law who wasn’t particularly difficult. But she also had a saozi (her husband’s elder brother’s wife) who was always looking for an opportunity to compete with her.

She planned to go home and finish her chores first, then return later with the other women to help Miao Shi and Shen Qing tidy up the house. Heavy lifting and manual labor were things Miao Xing and Miao Wang could handle, but when it came to organizing and cleaning, the women and fulangs were better suited for the task.

Miao Shi had been weak ever since her difficult childbirth years ago, and she had relied on Shen Qing to do much of the heavy work in the Shen household. The women and fulangs who were close to her all felt sorry for her, so they had agreed to come later and lend a hand. They would also bring homemade food, treating it as both a celebration of Miao Shi escaping her suffering and a housewarming gift for her new home.

On the way back, Second Aunt Lian sighed to her daughter, “Qing Ge’er is such a filial child—smart, capable, and with a good head on his shoulders. It’s just a pity his looks are a bit lacking, and his marriage prospects were delayed by the Shen family.”

In the village, calling a ger or a girl “someone with a strong mind” wasn’t always a compliment. In fact, it often carried a subtle criticism. Society expected gers and women to be obedient and submissive, treating their fathers and husbands as the center of their world. If someone was too opinionated, they wouldn’t easily fit into that mold.

But Second Aunt Lian genuinely believed that Qing Ge’er having his own ideas was a good thing. “With the way the old Shen family is, if he didn’t have his own plans, the two of them would’ve been eaten down to the bone. Back then, I even thought about arranging a match between Qing Ge’er and your eldest brother, but your grandmother despised Old Lady Shen too much and refused to be in-laws with that family, so that was the end of it.”

Her eldest son was a year younger than Shen Qing and had already married a fulang, who happened to be the nephew of Village Chief Zhao. Their marriage was harmonious, so she didn’t dwell on it. Instead, she just told her daughter, “From now on, don’t play with that Shen Xiaojun.”

“I never play with Shen Xiaojun,” Lian Rong said, swinging her empty basket as she followed her mother. “Who says Brother Qing isn’t good-looking? I think the village boys are just jealous and deliberately badmouth him. If Brother Qing were a man, I’d marry him! There’s not a single boy in the village better looking than him.”

Second Aunt Lian couldn’t help but laugh at her daughter’s childish words. “You’re so young, and you’re already thinking about marriage? Have some shame!” But after thinking about it, she agreed, “If Qing Ge’er were a man, he’d be extremely handsome. He’s tall and straight. But unfortunately, he’s a ger, and men don’t like gers who look like that.”

Lian Rong pouted at that, muttering, “Why should we care what they like?”

Second Aunt Lian didn’t catch what her daughter said. Seeing that they had arrived home, she instructed, “Go fetch a basket of pig fodder for me, then soak the dirty clothes with soapberry in the basin.”

By the age of seven or eight, girls could already help with chores. Second Aunt Lian was kind to her children and wouldn’t make them do heavy labor, but small tasks like these were within reason.

From the east wing, ever since Second Aunt Lian had entered the house, a woman had been peeking through the window crack, watching closely. When she saw Lian Rong finish soaking the clothes and run outside to play, she retracted her gaze and curled her lips. She aggressively stitched at the shoe insole in her hand, muttering, “A little girl, and they won’t even let her do chores. How precious does she think she is?”

---

The day after leaving the Shen family, Shen Qing began his daily routine of chopping wood and selling firewood.

He could cut a full load of firewood in a day, and if he was quick on his feet and returned early, he could make another trip up the mountain to gather wild vegetables. One day he chopped wood, the next day he carried it to the county to sell, always bringing back small essentials—because truly, they lacked everything after leaving the Shen family!

The bedding wasn’t enough, so they had to spread thick layers of straw on the kang for warmth. They had no carrying pole for fetching water, and with only a single clay pot for both cooking porridge and storing water, Shen Qing had to make multiple trips to the village well every day. The kitchen was empty, with no proper cooking utensils, so Shen Qing cut a tree stump to use as a chopping board. They needed needles and thread, oil, salt, sauces—every little thing.

Every day required some new purchase, so even after selling firewood for over a month, though he had made quite a bit of money, there wasn’t much left in hand.

But despite their tight finances and the hard work, the mother and son’s spirits improved with each passing day.

Miao Shi woke up early. Just as the sky was beginning to lighten, she entered the kitchen in the dim light. She was unwilling to waste oil for the lamp, but after living in this house for over a month, she had grown familiar enough to move around without light. She began preparing breakfast and packing dry food for Shen Qing to take up the mountain.

Behind the house, she had started a small vegetable patch with seeds that Second Aunt Lian had given her. The plants were still seedlings and not yet ready for harvest, so most of their meals still came from foraged wild vegetables. Friends among the village women and fulangs would sometimes bring her extra produce from their own gardens, as it was common to grow more than a family could eat.

A month earlier, after the autumn harvest, Miao Xing and Miao Wang had brought them half a sack of sweet potatoes and half a sack of potatoes—over a hundred pounds in total. They had also taken the peanuts from the Shen family and sold them in the county, exchanging them not for grain but for coins, so they could buy fresh when needed. With just the two of them eating, it wouldn’t be difficult to make their supplies last.

Including the grain they received from the Shen family, they had a little over two hundred pounds left, plus the potatoes and sweet potatoes from Miao Xing and Miao Wang. If they were frugal, they could stretch it for nearly a year. But Shen Qing didn’t intend to be frugal. He had suffered hunger before and had developed an attachment to good food. More importantly, Miao Shi’s health had never been good—wasn’t it only right for her to eat better?

Shen Qing had been making plans in his heart. By next spring, when winter wheat was harvested, he could buy grain directly from the villagers. It would be cheaper than the county’s grain stores, and since villagers wouldn’t have to transport it to town themselves, many would be happy to sell to him.

That meant they only needed enough food to last until then, which they had plenty of.

Miao Xing had also promised, “We planted a lot of cabbage, autumn radishes, and pumpkins this year. Once we harvest, we’ll bring some over. Your sister-in-law says your pickled vegetable skills are the best—she wants to trouble you to make some for us this year.”

Just thinking about pickled vegetables made Shen Qing’s mouth water. He loved them. Back at the Shen household, when all the good food went to others, pickled vegetables were one of the few flavorful things he could eat. The only downside was that they made him hungrier.

But to pickle vegetables, they needed a proper pickling jar, which they didn’t have. Shen Qing sighed inwardly. They were still too poor. Every little thing required careful planning. He needed to work hard before winter to buy the most essential items.

Miao Shi’s pickling skills were well-known in Shiqu Village. When she was still unmarried, everyone praised her ability to make excellent pickled vegetables. In the past, the Miao family hadn’t wanted to call her back just to make some. But now that she had separated from the Shen family, it was much easier.

As for the Shen family, not long after the autumn harvest, Shen Zhigao officially married Widow Li. It had stirred up gossip in the village once again. By then, Widow Li’s belly had started to show, and the villagers—including those from nearby villages—had been talking behind their backs. But Widow Li didn’t care. She acted like she had won, parading around with her pregnant belly like a war hero.

Nowadays, neither Shen Qing nor Miao Shi had any interest in Shen family affairs.

The weather was getting colder, and the villagers were preparing for winter. Firewood prices in town were creeping upward, and Shen Qing planned to take full advantage of it. He wanted to chop and stockpile as much as possible, then rent an ox cart to haul it into town when the weather turned too harsh to chop more. Without having to spend an entire day carrying wood on foot, he could cut several extra loads, maximizing his earnings before the New Year.

Some villagers owned ox carts and would rent them for half a day at ten coins—a fair deal.

These days, Shen Qing spent full days up in the mountains. Miao Shi made sure to prepare his food in advance so he could bring it with him. She was a good cook, and though the food was simple—mostly coarse grain and wild vegetable pancakes—it was well-prepared and filling.

She mixed bean flour and sorghum flour with sourdough starter, letting it rise for an hour before rolling it out paper-thin. A small amount of wheat flour, salt, a pinch of Sichuan pepper powder, and a handful of chopped scallions were mixed with hot oil to make a fragrant spread. She evenly coated the dough with it, layered it with finely chopped wild greens, cut the edges, and folded it into a neat, round pancake. Once steamed, the pancake became thick, soft, and full of layers.

Though still a bit rough in texture, it was savory and satisfying.

She regretted not having a cast-iron pan to make better pancakes, but iron was expensive. Buying a pan would cost three to four qian of silver—a significant expense. For now, they had to make do with clay pots and steaming baskets.

Once breakfast and dry rations were ready, Miao Shi called for Shen Qing to wake up.

Shen Qing was even stronger than he had been two months ago. At first glance, he seemed to have lost weight, but beneath his clothes, his muscles were firmer, and his face had shed some of its youthful roundness, becoming sharper and more defined. Miao Shi had also gained some weight; she no longer looked like she would topple over with a gust of wind. Her face was fuller, her cheeks rounder, and she looked much healthier.

Shen Qing quickly pulled on his clothes, a willow twig clenched between his teeth as he cleaned them. Peering into the kitchen, he mumbled, “Let’s have eggs for dinner? It’s been a while since we had any.”

“Didn’t we just have them three days ago?” Miao Shi sighed helplessly.

Since moving here, she had bought some chicks to raise in the yard, but they hadn’t started laying eggs yet. If they wanted eggs, they had to buy them from others—two eggs for a single coin. Miao Shi was reluctant to spend the money.

Qing Ge’er was too generous with their spending, especially when it came to food. Unlike most villagers, who scrimped and saved, he made sure they ate well. But without land of their own, Miao Shi never felt completely at ease. They had been away from the Shen family for over a month, yet sometimes she still felt like she was dreaming. Their days were so much better than before—almost too good to be real. The more money they spent, the more anxious she felt.

“Your Aunt Xiaoyan thinned out her radishes yesterday and gave me a basket of radish greens. We’ll have those mixed with sauce for dinner,” she said.

As she spoke, Miao Shi finished cutting the freshly steamed pancakes into six pieces, each nearly the size of a palm. She picked out two pieces and placed them in a small woven basket, while the rest were packed into a cloth bag—Shen Qing’s lunch for the day when he went up the mountain.

Miao Shi had a small appetite, so she only took half a bowl of porridge and a small piece of pancake. Shen Qing, on the other hand, drank more than half a pot of porridge, eating as he silently calculated how much he could earn from the firewood he had stockpiled.

A large jar for pickling vegetables, a clay pot for making preserved greens, thick blankets and warm clothes for the winter—there were so many things they still needed. If he could squeeze out a bit more money, he could finally buy an iron wok. That way, they wouldn’t have to eat radish greens raw—they could stir-fry them instead.

When they first moved out, he had been full of confidence. But now that they were actually living on their own, he realized that while they wouldn’t starve, money was still tight at every turn.

Still, Shen Qing wasn’t discouraged. He simply thought that if he gritted his teeth, worked harder, and pushed through, no hardship would be too great to overcome.

◦°˚(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦

“That Shen family is a nest of rotten scoundrels—rotten to the core! There’s not a single decent person with the surname Shen!” A woman’s voice rang out angrily from inside the house.

While cursing, Second Aunt Lian pulled a few cornbread buns and a large bowl of pickled vegetables from the basket she had brought, setting them on the only table in the house. But as she turned and caught sight of Shen Qing—who also bore the surname Shen—she hesitated, awkwardly swallowing the rest of her words. Instead, she called for her young daughter to bring over a clay pot of hot water.

Looking at Miao Shi, she said, “I figured you two just moved in and are missing a lot of things. You probably can’t even cook yet, so I brought you something to fill your stomachs for now. On the way here, I ran into Sister Yanzi and the others—they all said they’d be coming by this afternoon to see you.”

Hunter Liu had collected the rent from the Shen family and left with his fulang for Xiahe Village. No sooner had the two departed than Second Aunt Lian arrived with her young daughter, carrying food and hot water.

Although Miao Shi had been married into Lantang Village for many years, she had a few close friends among the village women and fulangs. Her closest friend was none other than Second Aunt Lian. The two of them had grown up together in Shiqu Village and were from the same Miao clan. They had even married into Lantang Village around the same time.

The other women and fulangs who were on good terms with Miao Shi had refrained from visiting while so many men from Shiqu Village were still around—it wouldn’t have been appropriate. They had decided to wait until things settled down before coming over to check on her. But Second Aunt Lian didn’t need to worry about such things, being from the Miao family herself.

Shen Qing could tell that Second Aunt Lian was trying to be considerate of his feelings, but he didn’t mind. Listening to her curse the Shen family, he felt absolutely nothing. He might have shared their surname and their blood, but in his mind, they had long ceased to be his family.

Miao Shi looked at the towering stack of cornbread on the table, fidgeting with the hem of her clothes. “Why did you bring so much? You didn’t take it behind your mother-in-law’s back, did you?”

The Lian family hadn’t split up their household, and Second Aunt Lian’s mother-in-law still managed the family affairs.

There were over a dozen cornbread buns in the basket—not just for Miao Shi and Shen Qing, but enough for Miao Xing, Miao Wang, and Tongsheng Miao as well. Traditionally, when a woman’s family came to support her in a dispute like this, she was supposed to provide a meal for them in return. But as Second Aunt Lian had pointed out, Miao Shi and Shen Qing had only just moved in and hadn’t had time to set up a proper kitchen yet.

Fortunately, since they were all from the same clan, no one would be petty about it. Miao Xing and Miao Wang would simply repay the favor later.

The men from Shiqu Village had been up since early morning, hauling belongings and beating up Shen Zhigao and Shen Zhiwei. By now, it was well past midday, and their stomachs were empty. Second Aunt Lian’s cornbread arrived just in time to curb their hunger.

Still, Miao Shi couldn’t help but worry. Second Aunt Lian’s mother-in-law had a longstanding grudge against Old Lady Shen and had always disapproved of her mingling with Miao Shi. She had never treated the Shen family kindly, and Miao Shi was afraid that accepting this food might stir up trouble for her friend.

But to Miao Shi’s surprise, Second Aunt Lian actually laughed. “It was my mother-in-law who told me to bring extra.”

While she genuinely wanted to help Miao Shi, she would never have dared to take this much on her own—these were solid staples, not something their household could easily spare.

“She said that now that you’ve separated from the Shen family, you’re no longer one of them. She hates that old hag Shen—always has—but you and Qing Ge’er have nothing to do with that. Before, she only held back because of that wretched woman. Now that you’re free, she said I should visit you more often and help you whenever I can.”

Second Aunt Lian grinned. “And after seeing how our people from Shiqu Village beat the hell out of Shen Zhigao and his brother today, my mother-in-law was absolutely thrilled. She even packed extra cornbread for the men.”

She was genuinely delighted. She and Miao Shi had been close friends, but because of past grudges between their elders, she had always had to sneak around to visit. Even when she saw how badly Miao Shi was treated, she hadn’t been able to openly offer help. Now, she could finally visit as much as she wanted.

Earlier, when Miao Xing and Miao Wang had taken the Shen family’s peanuts and white flour, Old Lady Shen had wailed like her heart was being torn apart. Meanwhile, Second Aunt Lian’s mother-in-law had been so overjoyed that she had cracked open ten eggs for their family’s meal that evening.

Second Aunt Lian laughed again. “You know how stingy my mother-in-law usually is. She hoards every egg to sell at the market—never lets us eat them ourselves. That’s how you know she’s really happy about this.”

Her youngest daughter, Lian Rong, was only eight years old. Hearing about the eggs, she licked her lips, probably remembering their taste. Then, looking hopefully at her uncles, she asked, “Uncle, can you guys beat up Uncle Zhigao more often? My granny would be so happy!”

The men burst into laughter. Miao Wang reached out to ruffle Lian Rong’s hair, chuckling. “Of course! I won’t let that bastard off the hook. Next time, I’ll bring a few brothers, throw a sack over his head, and give him a good beating. Then I’ll secretly tell you, and you can secretly tell your granny, and we can all secretly enjoy it together!”

His teasing made everyone laugh.

But after laughing for a while, Miao Xing’s expression darkened.

If they were from the same village, beating Shen Zhigao wouldn’t have to be done in secret. They could have pummeled him like clockwork—morning, noon, and night—just like eating meals.

But they weren’t from the same village. On the surface, Zhao Youdang had handled the matter well—he had ensured that the Shen family provided compensation to Miao Shi and her son, helped Shen Qing sever ties in a dignified manner, and even promised to register them as an independent household.

If they continued to beat Shen Zhigao now, it would be seen as disrespecting Zhao Youdang’s authority. Worse, it could escalate into a conflict between the two villages.

In the countryside, face and reputation were everything. No one wanted to be looked down upon, and small disputes could easily snowball into long-standing grudges. Something as minor as spitting near someone’s doorstep could eventually lead to an all-out brawl between two villages.

While Miao Xing wasn’t afraid of trouble, he also didn’t want things to escalate that far. That was why they had to be more discreet when dealing with Shen Zhigao.

At the end of the day, it all came down to the fact that Miao Shi had married into another village—something Miao Xing had come to deeply regret. He often blamed himself for not choosing better, for allowing his sister to marry into the Shen family in the first place.

Their father had passed away early, leaving Miao Xing, as the eldest son, and their mother to arrange Miao Shi’s marriage. Because their mother had struggled as a widow raising four children, their family had been among the poorer ones in Shiqu Village at the time. That meant they had little choice but to marry Miao Shi into a slightly poorer neighboring village—Lantang.

Back then, the Shen family had seemed well-off, and Shen Zhigao had appeared decent enough when he was young. Who could have guessed he’d turn out to be such a worthless scoundrel?

People really should marry close to home, to families they knew well. The more Miao Xing thought about it, the more his gaze landed on Shen Qing.

Shen Qing was sitting quietly, breaking apart a cornbread bun and eating it slowly with pickled vegetables and hot water. He was caught off guard when his eldest uncle suddenly spoke.

“Chunlei, what are you planning for Qing Ge’er’s marriage?”

(Chunlei is Miao Shi’s maiden name).

Having seen his own sister suffer, Miao Xing had already decided—if Qing Ge’er was to marry, it would be best if he married back into Shiqu Village. At least then, they would know the family well, and if anything went wrong, he’d be right there to deal with it.

In fact, ever since their confrontation in the Shen courtyard, Miao Xing and Miao Wang had directed most of their questions to Shen Qing, recognizing that he was the one making decisions for himself and his mother. But no matter how capable he was, discussing a marriage arrangement was still a matter of parental authority.

Yet when the topic came up, Miao Shi instinctively looked toward Shen Qing.

Miao Xing’s face darkened. “Why are you looking at him? Can he decide this for himself?”

Having been scolded so often in the Shen household, Miao Shi had developed a reflexive fear of raised voices. At the hint of disapproval in her elder brother’s tone, she immediately shrank back, lowering her head.

Seeing this, Miao Xing’s heart ached. When she had been a young girl at home, Miao Shi had been quiet but not completely spineless. Who knew how much suffering she had endured in the Shen household to be reduced to this?

Second Aunt Lian quickly stepped in to smooth things over. “It’s all because of that wretched Shen family. Qing Ge’er is already turning nineteen by the end of the year, and he still hasn’t been engaged. They’ve wasted all these years of his youth.”

She meant every word.

In this world, men outnumbered women, and wealthier families took multiple wives and concubines. That meant there were plenty of bachelor men, but very few gers or women who couldn’t find a match. Even if Qing Ge’er wasn’t particularly handsome, he could have still married into a decent family—if not a great one, then at least a passable one.

If no one in his village wanted to marry him, there were always options in other villages.

It was clear that the Shen family had deliberately delayed his marriage.

“They wanted to keep Qing Ge’er at home as a laborer!” Miao Wang snorted. “What kind of decent family keeps a ger unmarried until nearly twenty? No wonder that bastard ended up fooling around with a widow. That whole family is rotten to the core.”

Miao Shi felt uncomfortable when her younger brother brought up Widow Li. But Shen Qing, having already come to terms with everything, was unfazed.

“In hindsight, it’s a good thing I didn’t marry.”

If he had already been married when Shen Zhigao tried to divorce his mother, there would have been no way for him to take Miao Shi away with him. Any help he offered her would have depended on his husband’s approval.

As a ger, Shen Qing had once entertained fantasies about marriage.

He had even blushed when the topic came up, especially when he was thirteen or fourteen—the age when most village girls and gers started thinking about marriage.

He had wondered what kind of family he would marry into, what kind of person his future husband would be.

There were many loving couples in the village, like Second Aunt Lian and Second Uncle Lian, whose relationship was warm and affectionate. Shen Qing had envied families like theirs. Having received so little love or warmth from his own father and family, he had longed for the idea of a loving home.

But when it came to choosing a spouse, he had no particular thoughts.

Other gers and girls would whisper excitedly about which men were the most handsome or the most strong and heroic—but Shen Qing never saw them that way. How strong could they really be?

They were all just boys he had beaten in fights before.

The memory of those same village boys, crying and begging for mercy under his fists, made any thoughts of marriage feel less appealing.

Now, it wasn’t even a matter of preference. It simply wasn’t the right time.

Swallowing the last bite of cornbread, he wiped his mouth and said, “Uncle, let’s put this aside for now. If I get married, I’ll have to bring my mother with me and take care of her. There aren’t many families that would agree to that. I’d rather focus on saving money for the next couple of years.”

It was already difficult for him to find a good match. Bringing along a sickly mother would make it even harder. Few families were willing to take in a mother-in-law to care for.

Rather than struggling to find a husband, it made more sense to work hard and save money. With enough savings, he could either bring a generous dowry to a future marriage or, better yet, take in a live-in husband himself. That way, he could dictate his own future.

Seeing that Shen Qing had clearly thought things through, Miao Xing dropped the subject.

Instead, he started making new plans.

After the autumn harvest, when things were less busy, he and Miao Wang could help Shen Qing clear some land for farming.

For village folk, farming was still considered the most stable and respectable livelihood.

If they could get the land in shape, Shen Qing wouldn’t have to risk his life venturing deep into the mountains for firewood.

After warning Shen Qing once more to be careful and not to push himself too far into the wilderness, Miao Xing and Miao Wang took their men back to Shiqu Village.

With the harvest season approaching, every household was busy. The men who had taken the time to accompany them today were truly righteous and kind-hearted.

“We’ll come back after the harvest,” Miao Xing promised. “We’ll bring you some sweet potatoes and peanuts. And don’t sell the harvested peanuts yet—wait for us to take them to the county for you.”

Though Shen Qing was strong and capable, his uncles still worried for him. If they could lighten his burden, they would.

Shen Qing agreed and walked them to the village entrance.

Between the two villages stretched golden fields of ripening crops, endless waves of autumn’s bounty.

This year, for the first time, Shen Qing wouldn’t have to toil in those fields like a beast of burden, working from dawn to dusk without even a proper meal to eat.

He turned his gaze toward the rolling green mountains.

Before winter, he would make sure to gather enough firewood to sell in town.

And if luck was on his side, maybe he’d even catch some wild game.

With that, their future would be nothing to worry about.

◦°˚(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦

Old Man Liu was Hunter Liu’s father and father-in-law of his fulang, but he had passed away before Hunter Liu got married.

The Liu family had been the only hunters in Lantang Village. However, back then, Hunter Liu had still been young, and Old Man Liu didn’t always take him deep into the mountains. Instead, it was Shen Qing who, when he could no longer find anything edible near the village, secretly followed behind the old hunter into the forest.

Old Man Liu was highly skilled, especially in setting traps and snares. His expertise kept wild animals from disturbing Lantang Village too often. Every time he ventured into the mountains, he almost never returned empty-handed. But because he was after bigger game, he didn’t care much for small things like bird eggs—leaving plenty behind for Shen Qing to pick up and feast on.

Or perhaps, from the very start, Old Man Liu had noticed Shen Qing following him but had chosen to turn a blind eye out of pity for the little ger. After all, Old Man Liu had sharp eyes and ears—rabbits and pheasants hiding in thick underbrush had nowhere to escape when he was around. How could a large child trailing behind him go unnoticed? He must have known.

Occasionally, Old Man Liu even spoke to Shen Qing, teaching him how to set simple traps. Eventually, Shen Qing was able to catch his own wild chickens and rabbits, roasting them for food and sneaking some back home for Miao Shi.

Shen Qing had always believed that eating all those bird eggs and wild game was the reason he had grown so tall. It was because of his height, strength, and endurance that he had the confidence to become a woodcutter. A smaller ger wouldn’t even be able to carry half a load of firewood to town—a full bundle weighed 160 jin, and even half of that was still 80 jin.

“It was thanks to Old Man Liu that I learned my way around the mountains,” Shen Qing continued, glancing at Hunter Liu’s fulang. “I know where the wild animals roam, where it’s safe to go, and which paths are best to take. I’ve even carved out my own routes. I’m not bad at setting traps either—sometimes, I manage to catch rabbits or wild chickens. On good days, I’ve even snared a muntjac.”

He wasn’t planning to go too deep into the mountains either. As long as he stayed outside the village’s common lands, where the other villagers wouldn’t feel slighted, he would be fine.

The hunter’s fulang was surprised to hear about this connection between Shen Qing and their family. He chuckled, “My husband always said that someone besides him was setting traps in the mountains near the village. He even mentioned that whoever it was had decent skills—but he never knew who. So it was you all along.”

After marrying, Hunter Liu had moved to Xiahe Village, where he now hunted in the nearby mountains. Since that area had plenty of wild game, he and Shen Qing never crossed paths. Now, with Shen Qing renting their house, it seemed like an even greater stroke of fate.

He couldn’t help but admire Shen Qing.

His own husband was a hunter, strong and capable, yet he never dared to venture too deep into the mountains. But this Shen Qing—when he was just a little child—had followed Old Man Liu into the deep forest without hesitation. The boy had guts. No wonder he had the courage to take his mother and leave his family behind.

Nearby, Tongsheng Miao had been listening quietly. Now, he finally spoke up. “You have some nerve for a ger—daring to enter the mountains alone, selling firewood in town, and even convincing your mother to divorce. How did you come up with the idea to have her leave with you?”

The men from Shiqu Village hadn’t entered the house. Now that Miao Shi was a widow and Shen Qing was a ger of marrying age, going inside would have been inappropriate. After moving the belongings, they had wandered off to visit their relatives in Lantang Village. The two villages were close, and intermarriage was common—many had sisters, aunts, or cousins in Lantang Village, so they took the opportunity to pay a visit and have some tea.

Tongsheng Miao, however, hadn’t joined them.

Right now, the entire village was still caught up in the drama of the Shen family. If he went to visit someone’s home, he would undoubtedly be bombarded with questions. He didn’t enjoy such chatter, so he stayed behind, resting on the doorstep of the main hall.

Watching Shen Qing, he couldn’t help but feel puzzled. There had never been a case like this in the entire region. No ger or woman had ever left their husband and taken their child with them. Where had Shen Qing even gotten such an idea?

Shen Qing had indeed been inspired by something he had heard. Since Tongsheng Miao had asked directly, he didn’t hide it.

“In the spring, didn’t we get a new county magistrate?” he said.

The others looked at him, unsure what this had to do with anything.

A few days ago, Shen Qing had secretly taken a load of firewood to sell in town. By then, Shen Zhigao had been making a fuss about divorcing Miao Shi for quite some time. At first, Old Man Shen and Old Lady Shen had opposed it—not because they particularly liked Miao Shi, but because they disliked Widow Li even more. Everyone in the village knew she was trouble.

Besides, divorce was rare in the village. Most people simply endured their marriages. If the Shen family insisted on breaking tradition, the whole village would gossip.

But when Widow Li announced that she was pregnant—insisting it was a son—Shen Zhigao’s repeated demands began to sway Old Lady Shen. She had always favored her eldest son.

Shen Qing had been terrified, feeling completely powerless.

What could he do?

What could he possibly do to stop it?

In the end, he thought of only one solution: make more money. People always said, “Money makes the world go round.” If he had money, maybe their lives would be easier. If his mother really got cast out, at least they wouldn’t starve.

Feeling dejected after selling his firewood, Shen Qing had been walking back toward the village when he saw a convoy of carts entering the city. There were more than a dozen large wagons, leaving deep tracks in the dirt road.

He overheard some scholars gossiping nearby.

They were saying that the county magistrate’s younger ger sibling had divorced his husband and taken his child with him. The carts were carrying the ger’s dowry back to his natal home. Apparently, the magistrate had even announced that he was going to find a new husband for his brother—and he was being extremely picky. Even a scholar had applied but was turned away.

One of the bystanders was shocked.

“Wait, he got divorced and took the child with him? But children always belong to the father’s family—how could he take a child, especially a son?”

The scholar speaking scoffed sourly, “That’s the magistrate’s own flesh and blood we’re talking about. What could the other side do? They’re just ordinary commoners—who dares to argue with an official?”

Shen Qing had stood there, stunned.

In that moment, he had a revelation: many of the so-called “unchangeable” traditions could, in fact, be broken—if one had the right power.

This world favored men, but a ger or woman’s family could wield influence too.

If someone like the county magistrate’s brother could take his child after a divorce, then why couldn’t his mother?

Shen Qing was no magistrate’s son. His uncles weren’t high-ranking officials.

But his father was just a commoner.

Lowering his gaze, Shen Qing said, “If the county magistrate’s brother could leave with his child, then why couldn’t my mother do the same? My uncles aren’t government officials, but my father is just a regular villager…”

He had no power of his own, but he could borrow the influence of his two uncles.

When it came down to it, if not for Miao Xing and Miao Wang stepping in forcefully, Shen Qing would never have been able to sever ties with the Shen family so easily—let alone walk away with so much grain and household items. It was entirely thanks to the sheer number of people from Shiqu Village who had come, along with the scholarly presence of Tongsheng Miao. If the Miao brothers had been truly angered, they would have gone straight to the county office to report Shen Zhigao for adultery. That was what had forced the Shen family to relent.

His uncles didn’t need to be as powerful as the county magistrate. They just had to have more influence than Shen Zhigao—even a little was enough to tip the scales in their favor.

That was why Shen Qing had endured everything in silence while Shen Zhigao ranted and raved for days. He had been waiting for his uncles to arrive, to confirm that they were genuinely willing to stand up for his mother. Only then had he dared to speak up.

Tongsheng Miao was momentarily stunned. After a pause, he finally said, “If you weren’t a ger, you’d definitely have a bright future ahead of you. You might even have the makings of a scholar.”

To overhear a casual street conversation, immediately grasp the deeper implications, and then apply it so effectively to his own situation—it was nothing short of brilliant.

Tongsheng Miao had meant his words as praise, but they made Shen Qing’s faintly smug expression disappear. His lips pressed into a thin line as he lowered his head.

“If I weren’t a ger,” he said quietly, “I wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.”

The courtyard fell silent.

It was common for rural families to value sons over daughters or gers. Many families kept trying for a son even after having several daughters or gers. But for someone like Shen Zhigao—who was obsessed to the point of madness—it was still rare.

After all, there were plenty of households in the village without sons. Gers naturally had weaker constitutions and weren’t as fertile, making it difficult for them to bear many children. Most would only have one child in their lifetime. If someone had two, that was already considered a lot.

That was exactly why Shen Zhiwei’s fulang, Zhao Shi, was so respected in the Shen family—because he had not only given birth to two children but had also produced Shen Zhuang, a son.

Just a moment ago, when Zhao Shi was arguing with Shen Zhiwei in the Shen courtyard, he had been boasting that without him, Shen Zhiwei would have been childless. He claimed that marrying him had been a great blessing for the Shen family, that he was their savior—especially Shen Zhigao’s.

And the moment he said that, Shen Zhiwei had fallen silent.

Many families in the village, especially those with less money, would marry their eldest sons to women and their younger sons to gers. Gers were more capable of working, and their dowries were cheaper. If the younger sons failed to produce a male heir, then the eldest son’s son would be responsible for performing the funeral rites for his childless uncle.

That was why so many people in the village disapproved of Shen Zhigao’s actions.

Everyone else could endure it—why couldn’t he?

The Shen family wasn’t even without a son—wasn’t Shen Zhuang right there?

There was already someone to carry on the family name and perform the funeral rites.

Lantang Village was relatively well-off. Regardless of whether they married women or gers, most men could afford to take a wife. It wasn’t like the poorer villages deeper in the mountains, where bachelors were everywhere, unable to find spouses at all.

Shen Qing looked like a young man, worked even harder than a young man—but in the end, he was still a ger.

When he was little, he had sometimes wondered—What if I were a son instead?

Would his father have stayed the same?

Would his mother have been treated better?

But now, Shen Qing hadn’t had those thoughts in a long time.

The way they treated him and his mother wasn’t because he was a ger. It was because they were terrible people.

So what if he was a ger? He could still support himself. He could still support his mother. He could work harder and earn more money than most of the men in the village.

If his father and his so-called family didn’t want him, then he didn’t want them either.

◦°˚(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦

In the courtyard, the Miao brothers had finished gathering the grain and stacked it in the open space of the front yard, waiting for Village Chief Zhao to weigh it.

First were the freshly harvested peanuts, nearly 500 jin, cleaned of dirt and packed neatly into five large burlap sacks. Then came the various grains—white rice, sorghum, beans, and millet—all clean and of good quality, totaling about a few dozen jin each. This was the food that the Shen family had set aside for themselves for the autumn harvest. Altogether, it added up to exactly 700 jin.

Even the bag of white flour that Old Lady Shen had hidden in the cupboard was found and taken. She was so distressed that she nearly wailed, “That was just a small sack! It was for making dumplings during the New Year…”

Since the Shen family had many members, they had been able to store extra grain. Even so, Miao Xing was still picky, complaining that the rice wasn’t white enough and the flour wasn’t fine enough. Only the freshly harvested peanuts met his standards. He grabbed a handful and handed them to Miao Shi and Shen Qing.

“These peanuts are decent. Later, I’ll take them to town and trade them for coarse grain. Four to five hundred jin of peanuts can be exchanged for over a thousand jin of mixed grains. If you two are careful with your rations, it’ll last you more than half a year.”

No farmer kept all their peanuts for themselves—at most, they would save a small handful to roast for guests during the New Year. The Shen family had chosen to grow peanuts, a difficult crop to tend, precisely because they wanted to sell them for a good price. They were saving up for Shen Zhuang’s future bride price.

Miao Xing calculated that by selling the peanuts in town and exchanging them for cheaper grains like mixed flour, sorghum, or millet, they could stretch their food supply for nearly two years.

After all, how much could just the two of them eat? Farmers never ate pure grains lavishly. Meals were always stretched with vegetables, wild greens, and supplemented with sweet potatoes or potatoes to conserve food.

Thinking of this, Miao Xing added, “I didn’t take any sweet potatoes or potatoes. Those don’t fill you up like grain does. We grow plenty ourselves. Once they’re harvested, I’ll bring you a sack.”

These crops required little effort—especially sweet potatoes, which could be grown even on mountain slopes. They weren’t particularly valuable, so naturally, he would bring them the better-quality grains instead.

Shen Qing quickly thanked his uncle, “We don’t need to sell all the peanuts. Uncle, take some back for Qiao Niang, Xiao Shan, and Xue Niang to try. I cleaned them myself—they’re very fresh.”

He didn’t mention the older family members, but Qiao Niang and Xiao Shan were Miao Xing’s children, while Xue Niang was Miao Wang’s youngest daughter. They were all still young.

Shen Qing knew very well that today’s success in breaking free from the Shen family was entirely due to the backing of his two uncles. While they had their own interests, they had still put in significant effort for him and his mother. They were good people, and he was genuinely grateful to them.

Miao Xing waved him off. Shen Qing’s words were well-spoken, making him feel comfortable, but he wasn’t ignorant. Right now, Shen Qing and his mother were at their most difficult time—these peanuts were just snacks for his family, but they were a means of survival for Shen Qing and his mother.

“They’re too old for snacks. You two are the ones who need this food. Don’t be polite with me. As long as you can build a stable life and take good care of your mother, I’ll be at ease.”

Just as they were speaking, Village Chief Zhao arrived with the weighing scale.

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, each item was weighed one by one before being carried out by the men from Shiqu Village and transported to the house at the foot of the mountain.

Even though the Shen family was among the wealthier households in the village, they had now been stripped clean. All that remained were some sweet potatoes, potatoes, bran, and rice husks. But at this point, crying and protesting were useless—they couldn’t win in a fight, and the village chief wasn’t entirely on their side. The Shen family could only seethe in silence, cursing the Miao family, Shen Qing, and even Village Chief Zhao, without ever considering that they might be at fault themselves.

Meanwhile, a well-known gossip had already run off to inform Hunter Liu family.

Hearing that someone wanted to rent their old house, Hunter Liu and his fulang were overjoyed. The two of them personally came over to help tidy up the place.

The house had once been Hunter Liu’s bachelor home, located at the foot of the mountain near the path leading into the woods—very convenient for hunting. But after he got married, he worried that the wild animals from the mountains might come down and scare his fulang and children. So, they had moved to his fulang’s village, Xiahe Village.

Over the years, Hunter Liu had saved up some money from selling large game and had even bought land and a new house in Xiahe Village. The old house in Lantang Village had been sitting empty ever since.

It was too far from their current home, and even using it for storage was inconvenient. Now that they could rent it out for 500 wen a year, it was like free money falling into their laps. Hunter Liu’s fulang was so happy that he could barely contain himself, and the couple hurried over to Lantang Village.

This courtyard wasn’t particularly old, but a house without people quickly deteriorates. The thatched roof had begun to rot, and when Shen Qing and his mother arrived, Liu Hunter and his fulang were carrying fresh bundles of straw to repair it.

Shen Qing had passed by this house many times on his way up the mountain, and in a way, it seemed he and the Liu family had some fated connection. However, he had never stepped inside before, so this was his first time seeing the place up close. Because it was near the back mountain and prone to wild animals wandering in, the courtyard walls were built extra high and sturdy—taller than a person.

The yard itself was quite large. Perhaps because a hunter needed space to store tools and process game, there was even an area left open for additional sheds. Both the front and back courtyards were spacious, covering about half a mu of land in total. In the back, there was a sizable underground storage cellar, but the house itself consisted of only three main rooms, with a straw-covered shed at the entrance that had originally been used to tie up livestock.

Among the three main rooms, the central one served as the main hall in the front, with a partitioned kitchen in the back. The eastern room had been Hunter Liu’s former bedroom, while the western room was used as a storage space.

The eastern room already had a built-in kang bed, and the main hall had a sturdy wooden table and benches, but there was little else. The emptiness of the house made it feel particularly spacious.

After finishing the roof repairs, Hunter Liu went off to collect the rental payment from the Shen family, leaving his fulang behind to host Shen Qing and Miao Shi.

Hunter Liu was a tall, imposing man, and his years of hunting had given him a certain air of bloodied intimidation. The Shen family had been bold enough to argue and cause trouble in front of the Miao brothers and the village chief, but when they saw Hunter Liu blocking their doorway like a solid wall, they didn’t dare say a word. With pained expressions, they quickly handed over the money.

Meanwhile, Hunter Liu’s fulang was leading Shen Qing and Miao Shi around the house, tidying up as he spoke.

“…Before you arrived, I had my husband check the kang bed. The chimney and flues are all clear, so you’ll have no trouble using it when winter comes in a couple of months. We just finished patching up the roof—have a look around. If there are any places we missed, let me know, and my husband will fix them. No need to be polite.”

Though the Liu family now lived in a neighboring village, in just a short time, someone had already passed along all the Shen family gossip to Hunter Liu. Knowing the circumstances, his fulang looked at Shen Qing and Miao Shi with clear sympathy.

“If you need any help, just let us know. My husband is home all day with nothing to do. If you plan to stay here next year, you can delay the rent a little if necessary…” He hesitated before adding in a lower voice, “But, uh… not too late.”

Shen Qing nearly laughed but felt more touched than anything. This was a complete stranger, a man he had never met before, yet he was offering kindness. It was already more than enough.

“Thank you. We’ll probably stay here next year as well. I’ll do my best to pay the rent on time.”

Hearing this, Hunter Liu’s fulang beamed, clearly pleased with the arrangement.

Five hundred wen per year—Shen Qing quickly calculated in his head. If he worked hard and endured some hardship, he could definitely earn enough. But ideally, he wanted to save even more. With the compensation he had taken from the Shen family, he could start looking for land to buy. A brick house would be too expensive, but he could build a mud house himself. Owning a home would be far more secure than renting.

However, it would likely take more than a year to save enough, so for now, they would have to rent.

As he made his mental plans, Miao Xing and Miao Wang finished moving everything inside and stepped out of the western storage room just in time to overhear Shen Qing’s conversation with Hunter Liu’s fulang.

Miao Xing cut in, “Qing Ge’er, what’s your plan from here? Seeing how you handled things at the Shen house, it doesn’t seem like you left on impulse. You must have thought things through.”

“I plan to chop and sell firewood,” Shen Qing answered without hesitation. “I’ve already tried selling firewood in town before. I made some money, but I never let my family find out.”

Shen Qing had carefully considered everything before making the decision to leave. He had made sure he and his mother could survive on their own before speaking up.

He reached down and felt for the hatchet still tucked at his waist. The Shen family had refused to give them any farmland or farming tools, but no one had thought to take away the hatchet he had used to intimidate them. That would come in handy now.

“So you’re planning to be a woodcutter.” Miao Xing clicked his tongue.

In the village, most people didn’t rely on chopping wood. Typically, after the grain harvest, some of the leftover stalks were used for taxes and military supplies, while the rest became household firewood for the year. If that wasn’t enough, families would collect dried branches and twigs while gathering wild vegetables or feeding pigs.

For households with many children, sending them out to gather firewood was usually enough to last the year. Only families with very little land—or those preparing for winter—would go into the mountains to chop firewood in earnest.

But in town, things were different. The county town had neither fields nor mountains, which meant every bundle of firewood and every leaf of vegetables had to be bought. And since town folks were willing to pay, they were also picky. Firewood had to be cut into uniform sizes, and high-quality wood—like fruitwood—sold for even better prices.

Shen Qing had noticed this when he was carrying rice to town for sale. He had seen people selling firewood at the trade yard and had paid close attention.

Later, during slower farming seasons, he had secretly gone into the mountains to chop wood and carry it to town. At first, he was inexperienced—his wood was unevenly cut, not properly dried, and sometimes not even a full load. Merchants also took advantage of him, pressing the price lower since he was just a lone ger. But after a few trips, he learned the market rates and became more skilled. Now, he was confident—he could sell a full load of firewood for forty wen, and a bundle of dried grass for twenty wen. No one could trick him anymore.

Miao Shi, who was laying out the bedding in the eastern room, overheard and called out through the window, “No wonder you were always running off into the mountains, sometimes bringing food back.” Her voice carried a trace of worry.

“I wasn’t always just chopping wood. I only learned how profitable it was last year when we sold the autumn harvest,” Shen Qing admitted. He had never considered it before since firewood in the countryside was free. If he had known sooner—and if he hadn’t been tied down with farming work—he could have saved even more than just a few hundred wen.

It sounded like a promising way to make a living.

In an era where a laborer in town barely made one or two hundred wen a month, selling firewood for forty wen a load was excellent income.

So why was Miao Shi still worried? Why was Miao Xing clicking his tongue in concern?

Because being a woodcutter—though profitable—was also extremely dangerous.

If it were easy money, wouldn’t everyone in the village be doing it? Rural people weren’t afraid of hard work—they were willing to labor for every coin they could earn.

But cutting firewood meant going deep into the mountains.

The trees near the village were communal property, shared by all the households. People used them for building homes and making furniture. Taking a few branches for firewood was fine, but cutting and selling them for personal profit? That would stir resentment.

Besides, there weren’t enough trees nearby to support daily chopping.

That meant heading into the deeper forests, where wild animals roamed. Running into a tiger or bear was a death sentence. Even encountering a wild boar could mean never making it back.

On top of that, deep in the mountains, if you twisted an ankle or got injured, there was no one around to help.

Shen Qing saw the worry in their eyes and reassured them, “Mother, Uncle, don’t worry. I know what I’m doing. I’ve been in the mountains since I was little. Even if I wasn’t chopping wood before, I was gathering fruit and eggs. I know my way around. If I had only relied on the Shen family’s scraps, I would’ve starved long ago.”

That was the truth. Shen Qing was eager to make money, but he wasn’t reckless. He had brought his mother out to live independently—if something happened to him in the mountains, how would she survive? Just for her sake, he couldn’t afford to be careless with his life.

They had left the Shen family to live a better life, not to die out in the wilderness.

He truly did know the mountains inside and out.

After Shen Zhang died, Shen Zhigao’s attitude toward them had changed drastically, and the rest of the Shen family followed suit. Even the younger ones, Shen Zhuang and Shen Xiaojun, dared to bully them. They were given the hardest chores and the worst food—rice porridge so thin it was practically just water, with barely enough grains to count on ten fingers.

When Shen Qing was around eleven or twelve—just when he was growing the fastest—he was constantly starving. He had no choice but to run into the mountains in search of food.

At first, he ate whatever he could find—sour wild fruits that made his teeth ache, raw shepherd’s purse and water celery. If it could go in his mouth, he ate it. Some of the village women, out of pity, would slip him a cucumber from their gardens or some wild fruit they had picked.

But after spending more time in the mountains, Shen Qing started to expand his food sources. He learned to find and roast bird eggs.

The reason he had gained such a fierce reputation in the village was because of one incident—some boys had tried to snatch the roasted eggs he had saved for Miao Shi. Shen Qing, furious, had grabbed a wooden branch as thick as his forearm and chased them for two li.

From then on, if anyone tried to bully him or steal from him, he would fight back as if his life depended on it.

And as the saying goes, the bold fear the reckless, and the reckless fear those who have nothing to lose.

Shen Qing was so ruthless in a fight that even two or three boys together couldn’t take him down. That was how his reputation for fierceness spread—it wasn’t just talk, he had actually beaten them until they were afraid of him.

But there were only so many resources near the village. Other boys went into the hills to steal bird eggs for a snack. Shen Qing, however, relied on them to fill his stomach. It was never enough.

So he had to go deeper into the mountains.

“This is where we owe a lot to Grandpa Liu,” Shen Qing said, glancing at Hunter Liu’s fulang.

◦°˚(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦

In Shen Qing’s eyes, his father before he was nine and his father after he was nine were two entirely different people.

When he was little, his father had carried him in his arms, kissed him, and even brought back candy from town—one piece for him and one for his younger brother. In a household where women and gers always got the worst share of food, his father would secretly pass bits of meat under the table to him and his mother.

But after his mother lost the baby and her health declined, his father became silent and distant. Then, after his younger brother died, he changed completely.

Shen Zhigao’s gaze toward them shifted—from frustration to disgust, and eventually to hatred. Shen Qing had never understood where that hatred came from. None of this was his or his mother’s fault—so why did his father look at them like they had ruined his life?

For a long time, Shen Qing had held onto the hope that his old father—the one who carried him and bought him candy—would come back. But after years of disappointment, that hope faded, leaving behind nothing but emptiness.

Now, looking at Shen Zhigao, his father’s bruised face twisted in bitterness, he heard him scoff in irritation.

“I wouldn’t dare accept it. If I let him bow to me, he’ll probably hold a grudge and come after me and my son one day.”

After all the humiliation he had suffered today—being beaten by his former brothers-in-law, having his own child turn against him—he had lost every shred of dignity.

Ah, there it was again. He only cared about his “son.”

Even an unborn son was more important to him than anything else.

Shen Qing let out a quiet, self-deprecating laugh. Now, he only wished he could forget the father who once bought him candy, erase every trace of that man from his memory. He never wanted to feel the slightest bit of softness again. He never wanted to hold onto any illusions.

Kneeling down, he properly kowtowed to Shen Zhigao.

“Father, this is the last time I will call you that. From this moment on, once I step out of this house, we have nothing to do with each other. If we pass each other in the village, we are strangers.”

Shen Zhigao’s face darkened, and he turned his head away.

Village Chief Zhao coughed twice and put on a show of scolding, “What nonsense are you talking about? Even if you’re living separately now, he’s still your father. You should still greet him properly when you see him, no holding grudges, understand?”

Shen Qing didn’t respond, nor did he argue. He simply kowtowed two more times, then stood up and pressed his fingerprint onto the severance document.

Miao Xing and Miao Wang had been waiting for this moment. The second the papers were signed and Shen Qing tucked them into his chest, they led the men from Shiqu Village straight into the house to start moving things. They didn’t hold back—grabbing the best bedding, bowls, and rice sacks.

A year’s worth of food for one person was 350 jin. For two people, that was 700 jin. But not all grain was equal—coarse sorghum and premium rice were both considered “grain,” but their value was vastly different.

The Miao brothers had anticipated this moment. They hadn’t argued over the weight of the grain earlier because they planned to take exactly what they wanted when the time came.

The Shen family was caught completely off guard. They had barely come to terms with losing 700 jin of grain, and they had been hoping to delay the handover. Their plan was to mix in moldy beans, damp flour, and husks to make up the weight. But they never expected the Miao family to skip negotiations altogether. Like bandits, they kicked the door open and started taking what they wanted.

Panicked, the Shen family rushed to stop them.

This time, Old Lady Shen was crying for real. “It’s not even harvest season yet! How do we have so much grain to give them? If they take it all, how will we survive? Heaven strike you down… thieves, a whole bunch of thieves!”

The Miao brothers ignored her and headed straight for the back storage rooms.

Most farming families had little grain left by this time of year. With autumn harvest just around the corner, last year’s stock was nearly depleted. Some families, poor at planning, ran out of food entirely and had to borrow from neighbors until the harvest came in.

Harvesting was exhausting work—vegetables alone wouldn’t sustain a person through it.

Fortunately, the Shen family was relatively well-off. They had kept some extra grain to eat well during the harvest. On top of that, Shen Qing had quietly informed his uncles that the Shen family had grown over two acres of peanuts that year, yielding nearly 500 jin. The crop was stored in the back rooms, waiting to be sold after the rice harvest.

Peanuts were valuable.

Miao Wang led the men straight for the stash, sending the Shen family into a panic. Shen Zhigao tried to block them but was promptly kicked aside by Miao Wang.

“Move! This is what your family owes my sister! We agreed on 700 jin, and 700 jin is what we’ll take! All grain counts—whether it’s rice or peanuts! We’ll weigh it in front of the village chief and Tongsheng Miao—won’t even take an extra jin!”

Village Chief Zhao looked at the chaotic scene and decided he wanted no part of it. The last thing he needed was to get dragged into the middle of a dispute and end up getting punched.

Slowly backing away, he muttered, “I’m going to get the scale. I’ll be right back. Keep packing, but don’t start another fight.”

Being village chief was about keeping order, not strictly enforcing laws. In villages like these, disputes were settled by fists just as often as by reason. Even if he wanted to uphold justice, not everyone would listen to him.

At the end of the day, the real power belonged to those with strong sons and hard fists. The village chief’s job wasn’t to enforce rules—it was to make sure things didn’t spiral too far out of control.

And frankly, Shen Zhigao had crossed the line.

If Miao Shi had been from Lantang Village instead of marrying in from Shiqu Village, things would have been even worse for Shen Zhigao.

In that case, it wouldn’t have just been a few beatings and some grain being taken—his entire house would have been smashed to pieces, and his legs might have been broken, and no one would have pitied him.

As long as no one ended up dead and neither side was completely ruined, the village chief saw no reason to intervene further.

Besides, letting the Shen family suffer a bit now might prevent others from thinking they could get away with similar scandals. If word spread that men could divorce their wives on a whim and take new women without consequence, it would corrupt the morals of the village.

Outside the Shen courtyard, a huge crowd had gathered. The walls were lined with onlookers, craning their necks as if they were watching a festival performance. Not even New Year’s celebrations were this lively.

When they saw Village Chief Zhao coming out, they immediately swarmed him, chattering all at once.

“Village Chief, what’s Qing Ge’er’s family doing in there?”

“What did they agree on? Is Shen Zhigao really going to marry Widow Li?”

“He can’t, right? Would the Miao family let him? Did you see those brothers? They brought a whole army! They beat Shen Zhigao and Shen Zhiwei so badly…”

Some, feeling protective of their own village, grumbled, “Shiqu Village is getting too bold, coming here and throwing punches. Do they think Lantang Village has no men to fight back?”

Others, more level-headed, scoffed, “Shen Zhigao is an idiot. It’s not like he doesn’t have a son—Shen Zhuang could take care of him in old age. Plenty of men married gers who couldn’t bear children, but they didn’t go marrying widows on the side. What kind of fool causes a scandal like this at his age?”

Truthfully, most of them had no idea what was actually happening inside. They had just come to watch the commotion.

Someone laughed, “Of course this is worth watching! How often does something like this happen? You think we get entertainment like this every day?”

The affair between Shen Zhigao and Widow Li had long been the talk of the village—everyone knew about it. What no one had expected was that Shen Zhigao would actually dare to divorce his wife. That was something the village hadn’t seen in over a decade. Lately, the entire village had been gossiping about it over meals. And now, with Miao Shi’s brothers bringing in people from Shiqu Village, the drama had reached its peak.

Seeing that he wouldn’t be able to leave without saying something, Village Chief Zhao let out a sigh and said, “No, he didn’t cast her out—it’s a divorce by mutual agreement. From now on, Qing Ge’er will live separately with his mother. The Shen family is providing some compensation, and they’re currently dividing the grain in the courtyard.”

He swept his gaze over the gathered crowd and warned, “Shen Zhigao did what he did—what’s wrong with his brothers-in-law teaching him a lesson? Let this be a warning to everyone—if you don’t live your life properly and start messing around, don’t be surprised if your wife’s brothers come and beat you up. If anyone here feels bad for Shen Zhigao, they’re welcome to go take a beating in his place. I, for one, have no interest in embarrassing myself like that. Do you think our village and Shiqu Village can continue marrying into each other if we don’t handle this properly?”

Most villagers didn’t really understand the difference between being cast out and a mutual divorce. All they knew was that the two were separating, and that was big news. The crowd immediately erupted in shocked whispers.

“He actually went through with it?”

“The village chief is right—Shen Zhigao’s whole family must’ve lost their minds. After this mess, who in the nearby villages would dare marry into their family? Shen Zhuang is getting older too—this will make finding him a match difficult. We’re not like them, so Village Chief, you better explain things properly to the people from Shiqu Village.”

“We’re all decent people—we wouldn’t do something as shameless as Shen Zhigao.”

“Uncle Shen is a fool. Widow Li isn’t exactly known for being virtuous. Just wait—there’s going to be plenty more drama in the Shen family after this.”

The voices of gossip drifted over the courtyard wall as Shen Qing stepped into his room to pack.

He didn’t own much—his clothes were all old and worn, patched over so many times that one patch lay over another. His sleeves and pant legs were too short. He only had two thin blankets, and the cotton inside was clumped and lumpy. Shen Qing wrapped his clothes inside the blankets, rolling them up neatly, then reached his hand into the hole beneath the kang bed to search for something.

“What are you doing?” Miao Shi had already finished packing. She didn’t have many belongings either, so it hadn’t taken long to bundle up her things into a small, square cloth package. Carrying it, she walked over to see what Shen Qing was up to.

Shen Qing fumbled around for a while before pulling out a string of copper coins covered in dust. It was about two to three hundred wen, neatly threaded together with cotton string.

Miao Shi’s heart nearly jumped out of her chest. She quickly covered the coins with her hand and whispered anxiously, “Where did this money come from?”

They were at the very bottom of the household hierarchy in the Shen family, doing all the hard and dirty work without ever seeing a single wen. Now, all of a sudden, Shen Qing had taken out so much money—she was terrified that it had been stolen.

“I earned it myself. I cut firewood in the mountains and carried it to town to sell. A load of firewood sells for thirty wen. Sometimes, I caught wild chickens or rabbits, and if they were alive, I could trade them for a good price.”

Shen Qing placed the money into Miao Shi’s bundle and said solemnly, “Mother, don’t worry. I know how to make money. From now on, I will make sure you live a good life. You will never have to suffer again.”

Hearing that the money was earned honestly, Miao Shi finally relaxed. But then, her nose tingled, and her eyes turned red.

Life in the Shen household had been hard—so hard that they had often gone to bed hungry. Shen Qing had always run off into the mountains, sometimes bringing back bird eggs or wild fruit to secretly share with her. She had already thought that was impressive. But now she realized—her son was even more capable than she had imagined. He had actually managed to earn this much money.

She could only imagine how much hardship he had endured to save up this amount.

In these times, even a strong laborer with no connections could barely earn one or two hundred wen a month doing odd jobs in the city. Who knew how long it had taken her son to earn and save this much?

Looking at her son’s bright, determined eyes, Miao Shi—who had been living in constant fear and uncertainty, unable to see any hope for the future—finally, truly felt at ease.

In that moment, she felt a surge of courage and a firm resolve to build a new life.

“Alright,” she said, gripping her son’s hand tightly. “Mother believes you. From now on, we’ll live our own lives, and we’ll live even better than we did in the Shen family!”

◦°˚(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦

But in the village, a man hitting his wife was nothing out of the ordinary. Having her work harder? That was even less of an issue. As long as it wasn’t too extreme, the wife’s family usually had no right to interfere—especially in Miao Shi’s case, since she had no son of her own. Without a male heir, even her brothers had little leverage when standing up for her. If Shen Zhigao hadn’t gone so far this time, they wouldn’t have had a legitimate reason to come and cause trouble.

But if there was another way out, then why should their sister continue to endure this life? Even if it was normal for village men to beat their wives, even if most women simply accepted their fate, did that mean their own sister had to suffer too?

Qing Ge’er was hardworking and filial. He was even more capable than most of the boys his age. If he and his mother struck out on their own, they could at least rent a couple of acres of land as tenant farmers—it would be enough to get by. Their family could pitch in with some help, and during the off-season, they could bring the younger boys to assist Qing Ge’er in clearing more land. It wouldn’t be impossible to carve out a life for themselves. And if, in the future, Miao Shi could find a husband to marry into her household, she might end up living a far better life than she ever did in the Shen family.

The more the Miao brothers thought about it, the more excited they became. They were no longer focused on trying to reconcile things—in fact, they saw no reason to hold back against Shen Zhigao anymore.

Their sister had been with this bastard for half a lifetime, and now he wanted to cast her aside just to marry some widow he had been fooling around with? And the worst part—he had even gotten her pregnant? That was nothing short of disgraceful!

Miao Xing and Miao Wang were the first to throw punches. The other men from Shiqu Village, who had been itching for a fight, could no longer restrain themselves and quickly joined in. The only one who didn’t fight was Tongsheng Miao, who instead clung to Village Chief Zhao, muttering under his breath, “Such a disgrace! Truly shameful! A little roughing up is fine, but don’t actually kill anyone!”

The Shen family couldn’t just stand by and watch Shen Zhigao get beaten up. But the men from Shiqu Village were all strong and in their prime. Old Man Shen and Old Lady Shen were too old to get involved, and Village Chief Zhao was stuck listening to Tongsheng Miao’s chatter. The only option was to push Shen Zhigao’s younger brother, Shen Zhiwei, forward. But even he couldn’t fight against so many people. Within moments, both Shen brothers were wailing as they were beaten to the ground.

Seeing her two sons being beaten so brutally, Old Lady Shen immediately started howling, crying and cursing as she clutched at Village Chief Zhao. “Murder! They’re going to kill my sons! Village Chief, you have to stand up for our family! Shiqu Village has come here to bully us! That hen who can’t lay eggs, even making her a concubine was already a kindness—who else would want her if she left us? And now she wants to take my grandson away too? Where’s the justice in that?!”

But Miao Shi had had enough. Something inside her had snapped.

She wailed even louder than Old Lady Shen, sobbing hysterically. “Pah! If your son wants to wallow in filth with a cheap widow, that’s his business, but don’t drag me into it! If you don’t let Qing Ge’er leave with me, I have no way to live! I’ll just hang myself right here at the front gate! I’ll hang myself and watch from the rafters to see how your family goes on living!”

For years, she had been docile, submissive, and easy to trample on. But now, she spat right in Old Lady Shen’s face, leaving the old woman momentarily speechless.

Then, as the image of Miao Shi hanging from a beam and staring at her flashed through her mind, Old Lady Shen’s face paled.

Shen Qing stood behind his mother, his gaze fixed on Old Lady Shen and Old Man Shen. His voice was calm, but every word carried a sharp edge. “If anything happens to my mother, I will have nothing left to worry about. People say you can be a thief for a thousand days, but you can’t guard against a thief for a thousand days. Let’s see if Widow Li and the child in her belly have the ability to stay guarded forever—or maybe it’d be better if we all just ended things together. Either way, I won’t allow the person who harms my mother to live.”

“W-who’s harming your mother?!” Old Lady Shen was so shaken by his words that she stammered. “She’s the one threatening to die, who’s harming her? And you—you would dare lay a hand on your own father and grandparents?!”

“Do you think I wouldn’t?” Shen Qing yanked his hatchet out of the kang table, testing its weight in his hand. He glanced at Old Lady Shen, watching as she fell completely silent in terror. Only then did he calmly tuck the blade back at his waist.

Village Chief Zhao, watching the gleaming, razor-sharp hatchet and the grim set of Shen Qing’s jaw, suddenly felt deeply relieved that he had chosen to speak to him kindly earlier.

He had heard rumors about Shen Qing’s ferocity before, but he had never thought much of them. As the village chief and an elder, he didn’t concern himself with the affairs of the younger generation.

He had always thought, How fierce can a ger really be? At worst, he might be a little aggressive when fighting with the village boys, unwilling to back down.

But now, as he looked at the young man standing before him, hatchet in hand, he suddenly realized—he had gravely underestimated him.

Today was the first time seeing it with his own eyes—Shen Qing truly was as fierce as the rumors said.

Even Village Chief Zhao Youdang felt a chill run down his spine, let alone the Shen family.

As the saying goes, the bold fear the reckless, and the reckless fear the ones who have nothing to lose. If Shen Qing no longer cared about his life, then those who did have something to lose had to be cautious. More importantly, they could all tell—Shen Qing wasn’t just bluffing. If he said it, he would do it.

At this point, Shen Qing had nothing to lose, while Shen Zhigao treated the unborn child in Widow Li’s belly like it was his lifeline. Seeing his two sons beaten to a pulp and wailing on the ground, Old Man Shen and Old Lady Shen had no choice but to concede.

“If you stay, at least you’ll have a meal to eat. If you leave and starve to death, don’t come begging at our doorstep! If you’re leaving, then hurry up and go!”

But aside from the Shen family, even Village Chief Zhao felt that this was a good outcome.

Taking a child away from their father had never happened before in the surrounding villages. But Shen Qing wasn’t the family’s heir—he was just a ger, and an eighteen-year-old ger at that, nearly at the age of marriage.

According to tradition, once a woman or a ger was married, they no longer belonged to their birth family but to their husband’s family. Since Shen Qing would eventually belong to another household, what difference did it make whether he left sooner or later? At most, it was just a matter of reputation—but after what Shen Zhigao had done, did the Shen family even have any reputation left to uphold?

This arrangement gave Widow Li and her child a legitimate place in the household while satisfying both Miao Shi and Shen Qing. It was the best possible solution—so what was the Shen family still making such a fuss about?

What Zhao Youdang didn’t know was that Old Lady Shen had been planning to work Shen Qing to the bone before selling him off to some remote mountain village.

Finally hearing their agreement, Shen Qing felt a weight lift off his chest. He glanced around the room—his father and uncle, their faces bruised and swollen yet still cursing under their breath, Old Lady Shen glaring at him with venom in her eyes as if she wanted to tear a piece of flesh from him.

There was not a single thread of attachment left in his heart for the home he had lived in for nearly nineteen years.

He helped Miao Shi to her feet and turned to the village chief and his uncles. “We’re leaving now.”

After causing such a scene, it was only logical to settle everything while the people from Shiqu Village were still around. Miao Xing understood and turned to the village chief. “Village Chief Zhao, let’s write up the divorce papers now.”

As the village chief, Zhao Youdang still had to say a few words to smooth things over. He took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking.

“Zhigao is set on this, and if his wife stays, life will only get harder for her. Your ger is filial and will surely have a good future. Maybe it’s for the best. Even if the two families won’t be in-laws anymore, there’s no need to hold grudges and ruin the relationship between our villages.”

That last sentence was directed at the Miao brothers.

Miao Xing let out a cold snort—clearly, he wasn’t buying it. In his mind, as long as he ever ran into Shen Zhigao again, he would beat him up on sight.

Village Chief Zhao pretended not to notice and glanced at the bruised and battered Shen brothers. “What Shen Zhigao did was dishonorable, but still, consider his situation—he’s getting old, and without an heir, who will take care of him in his final years? If Xiao Zhang were still here, things wouldn’t have come to this. How about this—I’ll decide, and the Shen family will give some compensation to Qing Ge’er’s mother.”

Hearing this, Shen Zhiwei’s fulang, Zhao Shi, immediately panicked.

A divorce and a wife being cast out were two very different things. If a wife was cast out, it meant she was at fault and could only leave with her original dowry. But if it was a divorce, and the husband was at fault, then the wife was entitled to a portion of the family’s assets. And now, the village chief was even saying they had to provide additional compensation?

“They beat up our men and took Qing Ge’er away, and now we have to compensate her too?! She’s already leaving with our family’s child—shouldn’t that be enough? Village Chief, you can’t be favoring outsiders over your own people!”

Village Chief Zhao’s expression darkened. “Since when does a fulang interrupt when I’m speaking? Who is an outsider here? Miao Shi and Qing Ge’er will still be living in this village—they are part of Lantang Village!”

Zhao Shi didn’t dare argue any further, but he muttered under his breath, “Why does Qing Ge’er get to speak?”

The village chief shot him a sharp glare, and he immediately shrank behind Shen Zhiwei, not daring to say another word. But he wasn’t satisfied and pinched Shen Zhiwei’s arm, signaling him to speak up.

Shen Zhiwei, however, either wasn’t paying attention or had been beaten too senseless to argue. He simply hung his head in silence.

Old Lady Shen wasn’t happy about giving compensation either. She opened her mouth to protest but was immediately shut down by Village Chief Zhao.

“Then maybe you don’t want that grandson of yours after all? Tongsheng Miao can go report this to the county office, and they’ll drown both the widow and your son in the pond—that should settle everything!”

Before Old Lady Shen could say anything, Shen Zhigao panicked. “Mother, just listen to the village chief! Jiaofeng’s child can’t be harmed!”

Zhao Shi was furious, his resentment toward Shen Zhigao growing. Their family was already struggling financially, and now his brother-in-law was dragging in more trouble, spending their shared resources on a new wife.

Even Old Lady Shen shot her son a glare. But in the end, he was still her favored child, and she was thinking of her unborn grandson. So with a cold snort, she said nothing more.

Old Man Shen picked up his fallen pipe from the floor, knocked it against the kang bed, and sighed. “Do as the village chief says.”

He had already seen the situation clearly. The Miao brothers had come with a whole group from Shiqu Village—there was no getting out of this today. If they refused, his two sons would get beaten even worse.

As for Qing Ge’er? He was an ungrateful little wretch, ruthless enough to pull a knife in front of his own father. But in the end, it was indeed Shen Zhigao who had handled things poorly. Compensation was inevitable.

With the family head making the decision, no one else dared to object.

Village Chief Zhao let out a quiet sigh of relief. After an entire morning of chaos, this disgraceful matter was finally coming to an end. Now, they just needed to sort out the final details.

He fetched a brush and ink. With Tongsheng Miao present, Zhao dictated the divorce papers while Tongsheng Miao wrote them out in more refined language, also serving as a witness. The documents covered not only the terms of the separation but also the division of property and the status of their child.

The reasons for the divorce were slightly adjusted to be more respectable. Shen Zhigao’s infertility concerns were mentioned, but Widow Li’s affair was not. As for Shen Qing, the official reason was written according to his own words—he had already fulfilled his duty to his father and would now fulfill his duty to his mother.

When it came to dividing property, however, arguments broke out again.

In the end, after much back-and-forth, Miao Shi was given one liang of silver—half as compensation for her lost dowry, half as an additional settlement. The Shen family would also provide one year’s worth of grain, let her take her own clothing and bedding, and even give her a couple of sets of dishes.

Miao Shi and Shen Qing would stay in Lantang Village, with Miao Shi officially registered as a head of household. They would temporarily live in an old vacant house at the foot of the mountain, which the Shen family would rent for them for a year.

From now on, they would have no further ties to the Shen family.

All these details were written into the divorce and severance documents. Once everything was agreed upon, Miao Shi and Shen Zhigao pressed their fingerprints onto the divorce papers, while Zhao Youdang and Tongsheng Miao signed and stamped their seals as witnesses.

The divorce papers were made in four copies—one kept by Zhao Youdang, one by Tongsheng Miao, and the remaining two were given to Miao Shi and Shen Zhigao. With the documents secured, there was nothing more to be said. After nearly twenty years as husband and wife, their marriage had come to an end in such an undignified manner.

Once they had signed, it was time for Shen Qing and Shen Zhigao to formalize their severance of ties. Village Chief Zhao turned to Shen Qing and said, “He is still your biological father. Bow to him to fulfill your final act of filial duty.”

Shen Qing raised his eyes and looked at Shen Zhigao, whose face was swollen and bruised. The rigid, severe expression he had worn all this time softened ever so slightly.

◦°˚(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦