The morning after the shaman incident, the hut by the burial mound was eerily quiet.
Normally, at daybreak, villagers would pass by in threes and fours, inevitably pointing at the dilapidated hut. Today, however, there was dead silence.
Occasionally, a villager carrying a load along the distant path would instinctively take a wide detour.
The glances cast toward the hut were a mixture of seven parts reverence and three parts fear, as if some unspeakable presence lurked behind the old wooden door.
Inside the hut, the atmosphere was completely different.
Li Xìuxiù sat by the stove, mechanically operating the bellows, yet the tension in her shoulders slowly eased.
Liú Cōngmíng had placed a small stool beside his sister, his big bright eyes fixed on Liú Xiǎomǎn, full of unhidden admiration. Even his previously dull expression seemed to have lifted considerably.
A “creak” sounded as a figure peeked through the courtyard gate.
It was Aunt Zhāng from the west end of the village, who had often suffered at Wáng Jīnhuā’s hands.
Seeing no one around, she hurried to the gate, gently placed a washed, pale vegetable basket down, then, as if afraid of disturbing something, clasped her hands together and bowed toward the hut, murmuring softly:
“May the spirits bless my piglets to grow safely.”
Without looking back, she quickly departed.
Hearing the noise, Li Xìuxiù hurried over, and upon seeing the basket containing fresh vegetables and two still-warm eggs underneath, panicked.
“Xiǎomǎn, this… we can’t take it! I must return it at once!”
She picked up the basket, a mix of delight at being acknowledged and fear of the ritual evident on her face.
Liú Xiǎomǎn stepped forward, gently pressing her hand, taking the basket with a steady voice: “Mother, this isn’t a ritual offering, it’s people’s hearts.”
She lifted one of the still-warm eggs, weighing it in her palm. The simple, honest weight warmed her heart.
“What we accept isn’t the items themselves, but the villagers’ attitude toward the old house. From now on, if anyone dares to bully us again, they’ll have to think twice.”
Li Xìuxiù, partly understanding, looked at her daughter’s composed profile. The frustration she had carried for years seemed to dissipate, replaced with an unprecedented sense of pride and relief.
She nodded, no longer insisting.
The villagers’ reactions confirmed for Liú Xiǎomǎn that her plan to establish authority had succeeded beyond expectation.
This “divine protection” guise had bought her the most precious uninterrupted time.
She inwardly mused: superstition can ruin people, but… damn, it’s effective!
Once the attention subsides, she would need to subtly introduce some science, lest she truly become a semi-immortal exorcist—a notion too comical to sustain.
Her next step was clear: she had to seize the momentum and fully bring her uncle’s family—the only friendly “boat” in her life—aboard her Noah’s Ark plan.
At night, the moonlight once again bathed the countryside roads.
Liú Xiǎomǎn had Li Xìuxiù and Liú Cōngmíng sleep early, then carefully wrapped a small portion of premium rice bought in town in oiled paper, along with a small piece of dried cured meat tied with straw, and quietly set out alone toward her uncle’s house in the village.
Along the way, she unexpectedly encountered two villagers returning home together.
Seeing Liú Xiǎomǎn, their faces flashed with fear, as if they had seen a ghost, heads ducked, and they hurried past without daring to meet her gaze.
Liú Xiǎomǎn sighed inwardly. Her “goddess” status was indeed a double-edged sword: convenient for action, but creating an invisible distance.
She quickened her pace, soon arriving at Uncle Liú Lǎoshí’s courtyard.
Inside, a dim oil lamp glowed, revealing a family gathered around a table.
The sight brought a pang to her heart.
On the table sat only a clay bowl of watery wild vegetable porridge, with a few lonely leaves floating in the murky rice soup.
“Uncle, Auntie,” she called softly.
Liú Lǎoshí and Hé Xiǎolíng turned around, quickly standing.
“Xiǎomǎn? So late, why are you here?” Hé Xiǎolíng wiped her hands, a little flustered.
Liú Xiǎomǎn handed over the oiled paper package.
“My mother asked me to bring you something.”
The rough oiled paper emitted the scent of rice and cured meat, fragrant in the house filled only with the taste of wild vegetables.
“No, no!” Liú Lǎoshí immediately waved his hands, resolute like stone.
“Xiǎomǎn, we appreciate your kindness, but we cannot accept this! Your family’s days aren’t easy either!”
Hé Xiǎolíng also repeatedly refused, and the scene became tense.
Liú Xiǎomǎn stopped beating around the bush. She stepped forward, forcibly placing the package in Hé Xiǎolíng’s hands, then pulled both of them aside, lowering her voice with a serious expression.
“Uncle, Auntie, stop resisting.”
She led them to a corner, ensuring no one outside could hear, then spoke deliberately:
“I came tonight to discuss a business—a business that will allow both our families to survive safely for the coming years.”
Liú Lǎoshí and Hé Xiǎolíng were stunned by her solemn demeanor, exchanging glances.
Liú Xiǎomǎn didn’t give them much time to ponder, her gaze blazing, full of trust and sincerity.
She didn’t reveal the terrifying truth of the coming drought; that would shock them too much.
Instead, she framed it in a way easier to accept.
“I won’t hide it from you. Recently, I encountered a wise person who said the next few years will be very harsh—the rain will be scarce, the harvest worse each year, and grain prices… will soar.”
She drew a deep breath, her tone resolute and earnest: “Uncle, Auntie, in this family, you are the only ones I can trust and the only ones I wish to support.”
Her words, like a warm current, struck the softest part of their hearts.
They looked at their slight niece, her clear eyes without a hint of deceit, carrying a weighty trust.
The sudden trust and the dire picture she painted shook them deeply.
Liú Xiǎomǎn pressed her advantage, presenting her cooperation plan.
“I have some money, but a young girl buying large quantities would draw attention. So, I want Uncle to act.”
She explained clearly: “I provide the funds, Uncle, you know people and routes. Help me purchase grain, cloth, ironware, and other storable items. Once done, your family takes twenty percent of the goods.”
Twenty percent!
Liú Lǎoshí and Hé Xiǎolíng gasped.
For lifelong farmers, this was unimaginable wealth and security.
They were stunned into silence by Liú Xiǎomǎn’s decisiveness and generosity.
Meanwhile, at the Liú family old house, the main hall was filled with gloom.
Tián Lǎotài sat at the head, tapping her pipe on the table, cursing the shaman who had run off with the money.
Wáng Jīnhuā, beside her, whispered, egging her on:
“Mother, perhaps the shaman was scared off by that little wretch? That green light looked strange. Maybe… the girl really has something hidden in her house, otherwise, how could she pull such a trick?”
Her words were full of greed; their obsession with the Xiǎomǎn family’s treasures only intensified after fear.
At Uncle Liú’s, Liú Lǎoshí had been fully persuaded.
Slapping his thigh, his dark face full of emotion and determination, he said:
“Good! Xiǎomǎn, Uncle trusts you! Just for this trust, I’m going all in!”
As an honest farmer, after his excitement, he furrowed his brow at a practical concern.
“Xiǎomǎn, buying grain and cloth in batches is fine; people might think it’s for a wedding. But… the ironware you need—axes, hoes, several large iron pots—the town smiths have limited supply. Buying so much at once will draw the authorities’ attention. If they think we’re secretly making weapons, it’s a capital crime! What do we do?”
Hé Xiǎolíng’s tension returned, eyes anxiously on Liú Xiǎomǎn.
Liú Xiǎomǎn heard the concern calmly, inwardly relieved—this confirmed she had chosen the right person.
This was a modern person’s blind spot in ancient society, and exactly why she needed Liú Lǎoshí’s experience to fill the gaps.
Seeing their worried faces, she didn’t panic; instead, a confident, knowing smile appeared.
Leaning closer, her voice low but confident, she whispered:
“Uncle, if the authorities come to inspect, we’ll give them a reason that leaves nothing to question.”