Lin Qianqian lay on the tattered straw mat, staring at the ceiling, with only one thought in her mind:
What kind of human suffering is this?
Beside her, Lin Yulong was still crying, sobbing and calling out for his sister. The boy named Tiger next to him kept muttering, “Good people have heaven’s protection.”
Lin Qianqian closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Alright then.
Since I’m already here.
She opened her eyes and turned her head to look at the little boy crying his heart out—nine years old, skinny as a twig, his face covered in injuries, his eyes red like a rabbit’s.
This was her brother.
The only one in this wretched family who truly cared for her.
The sturdy-looking little boy next to him was Ding Xiaohu from the neighboring Auntie Ding’s family. Auntie Ding’s family treated them well, often visiting when their mother was still alive.
“Tiger, thank you for today, and thank Auntie Ding too. It’s getting late now, you should head back first!” Lin Qianqian said softly.
“Alright, Sister Qianqian. If you need anything, have Ah Long come get me,” Tiger said before leaving.
After Tiger left, Lin Qianqian raised her hand and patted Lin Yulong’s head, her voice hoarse like a broken gong:
“Stop crying. Your sister is fine.”
Lin Yulong froze for a moment, then burst into loud sobs, burying his head in her arms.
Lin Qianqian winced in pain from the impact on her wounds but didn’t push him away.
She patted his back, but her eyes drifted toward the broken window.
Outside, the sky was growing dark. She could vaguely make out the silhouette of the main house across the yard—taller and larger than this woodshed, with new paper pasted on its windows.
She narrowed her eyes.
Hitting kids, huh?
Just wait.
Since I’m already here, this grudge, I’ll settle it for the original owner.
Leaning against the earthen wall of the woodshed, Lin Qianqian rubbed her throbbing temples while thoroughly combing through the memories of this body’s original owner.
The original owner was named Lin Qianqian, twelve years old, from Qingshui Village. Her father was Lin Guozhu, the second son of the Lin family. Her mother had passed away five years ago, and before her body had even grown cold, her stepmother, Ding Yuxiang, had moved in with a daughter. That daughter was named Lin Yuanyuan, one year younger than the original owner and two years older than Lin Yulong.
From that day on, the original owner and her brother had been moved into the woodshed.
Two meals a day of watery porridge, so thin you could see your reflection in it. Beatings were a regular occurrence, and verbal abuse was even more frequent. Ding Yuxiang’s mouth spewed the vilest words—”bastard,” “money-losing goods,” “unwanted”…
The original owner’s father?
A complete coward.
He acted as if he didn’t see or hear anything. When Ding Yuxiang hit the children, he turned and walked away; when she cursed at them, he pretended to be deaf. If he had spoken up even once, the original owner and her brother wouldn’t have lived a life worse than a dog’s.
Lin Qianqian sorted through the members of this family.
The old Lin family consisted of the original owner’s grandfather, who had three sons and one daughter. The eldest was Lin Guozhong, the second was Lin Guozhu, the third was Lin Guoan, and the youngest was Lin Xiaohua. The old man also had a younger brother, who also lived in Qingshui Village. The original owner called him Second Grandfather, Lin Qingyuan. Second Grandfather had three sons and two daughters, a thriving family.
This large family lived in a big compound. The main house belonged to the old couple, the east and west wings were divided between the eldest and second sons, with the second son, Lin Guozhu, living in the west wing with his wife and children. A room at the back was given to the third son. After Ding Yuxiang moved in, the original owner and her brother were driven into the woodshed, and those two small rooms were taken over by Ding Yuxiang and her daughter.
After sorting through all this, Lin Qianqian had a clear picture in her mind.
Outside, the sky had turned completely dark.
The courtyard gate creaked—Lin Guozhu had returned.
After a full day of farm work, he leaned his hoe against the base of the wall, shook the dirt off his body, then crouched down to knock the pebbles out of his shoes. Only then did he straighten up and walk into the courtyard.