Madame Wang rose with a vicious expression, snatching up a wooden club as thick as an infant’s arm from beside the door. It was her weapon of choice—perfect for shooing chickens and, more importantly, beating Sanya.
She swung it out of habit, expecting the girl to cower as always. The others in the yard didn’t even pause their meal; they were used to this performance. But the girl who usually stood still to take the blows deftly dodged. The club whistled through empty air. Madame Wang stood stunned for a moment, unable to believe her eyes, before raising the weapon again. Once more, Qiao Xin side-stepped with ease.
This time, Madame Wang’s rage fully ignited. “You little slut! You dare to dodge? I think you’re tired of living—I’ll beat you to death today if it’s the last thing I do!”
She charged after Qiao Xin, chasing her in frantic circles around the courtyard while unleashing a stream of vitriol. “You bitch, you little whore! Just like your mother, you’re nothing but a loose, stinking floozy! Daring to run from me? I’ll break every bone in your body!”
Qiao Xin led her on a merry chase for two laps, carefully maneuvering toward the dining table. With a calculated “stumble,” she threw her weight forward, lunging straight at Qiao An’an, the youngest son of the second branch. An’an had always been the little tyrant of the house; though only eight, his cruelty in Sanya’s memories was even more terrifying than Madame Wang’s.
“Ahh!”
“An’an!”
Qiao Xin used nearly half her strength in the lunge. She slammed into An’an, pinning him beneath her. As he fell, he was leaning over the table, and the momentum carried the entire table—along with him—crashing to the ground. Even though the village elder and the second son subconsciously reached out to catch it, they were a second too late. Dishes shattered with a cacophony of crashes, and half-eaten food and porridge splattered everywhere.
The sudden chaos left everyone stunned into silence. Old Man Qiao’s face turned so dark it looked as if ink was dripping from his brow. The second and third sons stared at Qiao Xin in disbelief.
He Shi, the second son’s wife, shrieked, “Sanya! Are you trying to crush my An’an to death? Get off him!” She lunged forward to haul Qiao Xin away, but Qiao Xin was faster. Seeing her coming, she nimbly sprang to her feet and darted to the side.
A deafening wail erupted from An’an. He had been so winded by Qiao Xin’s weight that he couldn’t even breathe until she stood up. Now, he began to howl.
Liu Shi, the third son’s wife, cried out, “Oh my! Quick, check on An’an! Make sure he isn’t crushed!” Her tone was full of feigned concern, yet she didn’t take a single step forward, and her eyes sparkled with blatant schadenfreude. Qiao Xin caught the expression perfectly.
This was the final straw for Madame Wang. An’an was her golden grandson, the apple of her eye. Blind with fury, she swung her club and charged at Qiao Xin. But Qiao Xin wasn’t a fool; she wasn’t about to stand there and take a beating.
“Grandfather, save me!” Qiao Xin sprinted like a startled rabbit, diving directly behind the village elder. Madame Wang, closing in fast, hadn’t expected the girl to hide behind her husband. She couldn’t brake in time; though she managed to hold back the swing of the club, her momentum carried her straight into Old Man Qiao.
The elder, caught completely off guard, was sent sprawling to the ground by the impact. Madame Wang, tipped by her own inertia, tumbled right on top of him. Qiao Xin, of course, had already slipped safely to the side.
Panic erupted in the courtyard. The family swarmed around the old couple, clamoring to know if they were hurt.
“Oh, I’m dying, my old bones are shattered! That cursed creature—to actually assault her own grandmother! I’m going to report her for unfilial conduct!” Madame Wang, though she had landed on top of her husband, feared he might blame her. Fueled by that fear and her burning rage that Qiao Xin had dared to hide behind him, she closed her eyes and let out a theatrical, piercing howl.
Old Man Qiao, pinned beneath Madame Wang’s stout frame and exposed to the eyes of his children and in-laws, felt a deep, humiliating sense of shame. He wanted to bark orders at them to stop, but a sharp, throbbing pain in his lower back forced him to grit his teeth and remain silent.
He was livid. Not only was his wife making a scene instead of checking on his injuries, but this granddaughter—whom he had never once deigned to look at—was acting like she’d been possessed. In all the years his wife had beaten and cursed her, the girl had never once come to him for help. What had gotten into her?
Between the pain and the anger, he finally caught his breath and roared, “Stop that caterwauling! And all of you, what are you standing there like idiots for? Help me up!” His command silenced Madame Wang’s wailing and jolted their sons, daughters-in-law, and grandchildren out of their stupor.
Qiao the Second carried his father into the house, while Qiao the Third was sent to fetch the village’s barefoot doctor. Madame Wang shot Qiao Xin a glare sharp enough to cut, then stalked inside after them.
He Shi and Liu Shi stayed behind to clean up the mess. Standing in a row nearby were five children of various ages; they eyed the discarded food on the ground, then turned their glares toward Qiao Xin with chilling malice.
Qiao Xin ignored them all and retreated into the woodshed—her “room.” She surveyed the space: it was little more than a drafty, reed-thatched hut. Half was piled with dry firewood, while the other half was where Sanya had spread a thin layer of straw to sleep on ever since her parents died.
She truly had an incredible will to live, Qiao Xin thought, marveling that the girl hadn’t been broken long ago. She sat down on the flattened straw; despite the chill, she didn’t feel the sting of the reeds through her clothes.
Outside, twilight had deepened into night. She and Lin Qing had eaten their fill before leaving the space, so with nothing better to do, she closed her eyes. Her consciousness returned to the sanctuary, where she resumed practicing the Body Tempering technique. Each time, the movements became more fluid and the speed increased, until she felt her body reach its limit.
She drank a cup of the stream water, feeling the fatigue melt away as a rush of vitality returned to her limbs. This water really is a miracle. Like a child with a new toy, she began the practice again, over and over.
Not far away, at the foot of the mountain, Lin Qing was also drenched in sweat, repeating the movements again and again. His form was seamless, and the rhythm of his practice seemed to stir the very air around him.
High above, the moon sat in the center of the sky, illuminating a cloudless night.
Back at the Qiao house, the doctor had come and gone. It was just a heavy fall; nothing was broken, and a few days of rest would suffice. Madame Wang immediately moved to settle her account with Qiao Xin, but Old Man Qiao stopped her.
“Isn’t it enough of a mess already? Whatever there is to say, say it tomorrow.”
Spiteful as she was, Madame Wang feared the old man’s temper—he was the master of the house. Grumbling, she suppressed her rage. Tomorrow, she swore to herself, I will beat that little bitch until I’m satisfied, or I’ll sell her off and use the money to feed the family.
With these thoughts, she drifted off to sleep. In the other rooms, the house fell silent, the inhabitants lost to dreams.
Qiao Xin nudged open the shed door, which shuddered as if it might collapse at the slightest touch. She crept on light feet toward the room occupied by Madame Wang and the old man. She confirmed that the room was quiet and the occupants were sound asleep, but just as she reached out to push the door open, a hand suddenly clamped onto her wrist.