As they continued their trek up the mountain, Jiang Yue allowed Jiang Xue to lead her by the hand. Though her face remained a mask of stony indifference, a quiet warmth was beginning to stir in her heart.
Jiang Xue looked up suddenly. “Brother, is it just me, or does Big Sister seem really happy today?”
Jiang Ming glanced back over his shoulder. “That’s because I told her we’re going to trap some rabbits.”
Jiang Xue rolled her eyes. Maybe wait until you actually catch one before bragging, Brother.
Young Jiang Lei chimed in like a little scholar. “We have to be careful not to let Third Uncle snatch them away!”
“Grandmother already gave the word,” Jiang Ming said, his expression darkening. “If he dares try to steal from us, I’ll give him a thrashing he won’t forget!”
Once they reached the mid-slope, Jiang Xue led Jiang Lei in a sweep of the tall grass, beating it with sticks. They claimed it was to scare off the snakes, but mostly it was just high-spirited chaos. Meanwhile, Jiang Ming moved with more focus, scouting the brush for tracks and droppings to find the perfect spot for his snares.
Jiang Yue watched them, fighting the urge to speak up. In her mind, she knew that if you were hungry enough, even snakes were fair game. Besides, snares were slow; finding a burrow and smoking it out was a much faster way to fill a pot.
Flap-flap-flap!
A pheasant burst from the cover nearby. Jiang Yue felt a pang of regret. If only she had a bow and arrow—with her skills, that bird wouldn’t have stood a ghost of a chance.
Jiang Ming lunged forward and managed to snatch a single iridescent feather. He handed it to Jiang Lei with a sigh. “If only I could study under Old Man Luo and become a real hunter.”
Jiang Xue jumped back, her face pale. “No way! Don’t you remember what happened to his son? Or how his own leg got mangled? He’s back to tilling the dirt just like everyone else now. Brother, don’t even think about being a hunter. If something happened to you, the rest of us would be bullied to death by those people.”
Her eyes welled up as she spoke. Jiang Ming quickly softened his tone. “I was just talking, that’s all. Look, you stay here with Big Sister and Lei’er and dig for wild greens. Don’t wander off. I’m going to head a bit deeper to set these traps, then I’ll be right back.”
Before leaving, Jiang Xue sat Jiang Yue down on a large flat stone. “Stay right here. If you need anything, just shout. Don’t run off!” Then, she took Jiang Lei’s hand and began scouring the nearby grass for edibles.
Left to her own devices, Jiang Yue idly snapped a branch from a tree. She stripped away the leaves until she had a smooth, straight switch, then began meticulously sharpening the tip against the stone.
She knew she couldn’t change too fast—people would get suspicious—but she had to find a way to contribute. If she didn’t, she’d starve to death before she could settle into this new life. These siblings were genuinely good to her; she spent half her time being moved to tears by their unconditional protection. It reminded her of her mentor from her previous life. The memory sent a sharp pang of grief through her chest.
She closed her eyes to steady her thoughts. Suddenly, her ears twitched.
Rustle… rustle…
Something was moving in the thicket behind her.
Jiang Yue tilted her head. Her siblings were about ten meters away, backs turned as they dug enthusiastically into the dirt. Moving like a shadow, she stood up and slipped into the trees.
She tracked the sound for several minutes until the landscape shifted and the forest grew eerily silent. The brush shivered again. Like a cat ready to pounce, Jiang Yue arched her back and dove into the greenery. She pushed aside a heavy leaf, and her eyes lit up.
A pheasant! And better yet, it had a mangled wing.
The bird tried to flap away in a panic, but its injury kept it grounded. Before it could scramble further, Jiang Yue lunged—a “hungry tiger pouncing on its prey”—and pinned the bird to the forest floor.
The poor thing had survived a predator only to fall into her hands. One pheasant, she noted with satisfaction. Enough for a taste for all six of us.
But a “taste” wasn’t enough. As she looked around, she spotted a patch of large, heart-shaped leaves nearby—wild taro.
She quickly bound the pheasant’s legs with sturdy grass, then moved toward the taro patch. These wild leaves were smaller than the ones she remembered, but the tubers beneath were packed with the starch they desperately needed. She knew the leaves were toxic and the sap could cause a miserable itch if it touched the skin, so she worked with surgical precision.
Using nothing but her sharpened stick, she unearthed about a dozen tubers—only what she could carry. She’d leave the rest for tomorrow. After weaving a makeshift sling from vines, she tucked her stick into her waistband. With a pheasant in one hand and a bundle of taro in the other, she turned back, fully loaded.
Meanwhile, back at the clearing, Jiang Xue and Jiang Lei had finished filling their basket.
“Look what we found, Big Sister!” Jiang Xue called out, holding up a handful of wild berries.
She turned around. The stone was empty. Jiang Yue was gone.
The panic was instantaneous. Their screams echoed through the woods, reaching Jiang Ming’s ears so sharply he nearly fell out of the tree he was climbing.
Heart hammering, Jiang Ming scrambled down the trunk and raced toward his siblings, desperately searching the ground for any sign of where their sister had vanished.
Jiang Yue immediately called back to let them know she was safe. When Jiang Xue finally spotted her sister’s silhouette through the trees, she burst into a fit of relieved sobbing. She sprinted toward her, feet dancing with nervous energy, crying out, “Sister! Oh, Big Sister!” but as she drew closer, her jaw dropped at what Jiang Yue was carrying.
“Wait… Sister, did you catch a pheasant?”
Jiang Yue gave a nonchalant shrug. “I just picked it up.” In her past life, she had been a bit of a chatterbox at the training center to stave off the loneliness, but playing the part of the silent, stoic sister felt increasingly awkward.
The pheasant was tied up like a holiday roast, its small eyes darting around in a frantic circle. Young Jiang Lei reached out to stroke the bird’s iridescent feathers, clapping his hands in pure delight.
Jiang Xue’s tears vanished instantly. “Sister, you really are our lucky star!”
Jiang Ming caught sight of the bundle in Jiang Yue’s other hand and habitually reached out to take the load. “What’s this you’ve got, little sister?” he asked with a wide grin.
He pulled back the vines to peak inside, but his face went pale with terror. He dropped the bundle into the tall grass as if it were a bag of hot coals. “Sister! That’s poisonous! You can’t eat those! Did you touch them?”
Though Jiang Ming had never spent a day in a classroom, he had spent his life roaming the village and the mountains. He had heard stories of people who touched these plants and came down with a “ghostly illness”—their skin would turn beet-red and itch so violently they would claw themselves until they bled. Some had nearly lost their lives.
Overcome with guilt for letting her handle them, Jiang Ming grabbed her hands and began rubbing them frantically with his sleeves. “If only I’d brought water to wash your hands… why didn’t I bring any water?”
Jiang Yue felt a headache coming on. She had no choice but to speak up. “The leaves are toxic, but the roots aren’t. They’re good to eat once they’re cooked.”
The three siblings froze, staring at her in stunned silence. Big Sister is talking… a lot.
Knowing she shouldn’t explain too much, Jiang Yue bent down to retrieve the bundle, but Jiang Ming caught her arm.
“You can’t take those.”
“I am taking them.”
“They’re inedible.”
“They’re food.”
The tug-of-war lasted until Jiang Yue threw out a final compromise: “We’ll feed them to the pigs first.” Unable to win against her stubbornness, Jiang Ming picked up the bundle of taro with a look of pure disgust and led the way down the mountain. Since it was still early and they didn’t want to be spotted by the villagers, the four of them slipped in through the back gate of their home. Their parents, Jiang Youshan and Madam Cai, were stunned by the sight of the bird.
Madam Cai stayed just long enough to marvel at the catch before heading to the front to prepare the main meal. Jiang Xue followed her, whispering urgent warnings not to let a word about the pheasant slip. Madam Cai nodded fervently; a single bird didn’t provide much meat, and she was determined to save it to nourish her daughter’s health.
Jiang Youshan took over the bird, expertly draining the blood and plucking the feathers. By the time the pot was ready for stewing, Jiang Ming had already roasted a few of the taro roots in the embers of the hearth.
Why bury them in the hearth instead of the main pot? Jiang Ming remained convinced they were poisonous and refused to “contaminate” the family’s only large cauldron. Jiang Yue didn’t argue; she just handed him a few and let him have his way. In truth, roasted taro tasted better anyway.
Jiang Xue picked up a blackened, charred tuber. She peeled back the skin, and a delicate, sweet fragrance wafted into her nose. Inside, the flesh was golden and steaming.
She turned to Jiang Ming and whispered, “It actually… looks delicious?”
Jiang Ming kept his face grim. “Let the pigs try it first.”
Watching these two “treasures” of siblings, Jiang Yue didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She ignored her growling stomach as she watched Jiang Xue toss a perfectly good taro into the pig trough. What a waste of good grain, she thought.
For a moment, her mind drifted back to the bitterness of her childhood, living in the homes of relatives.
Same scene, different people.
She remembered a cousin who was a head taller than her, snatching a roasted taro right out of her hands. She had chased him, begging for it back, while he mocked her, dancing just out of reach. In the end, she had run out of breath and watched in tears as he threw the taro to the sheep. The sheep had nudged it around in the dirt with its snout until the food became nothing more than a ball of filth.
“Sister? What are you thinking about?” Jiang Ming’s gentle voice pulled her back to the present.
“Taro,” she replied simply.
Jiang Ming pressed his lips together. “The pig just ate it. We won’t know if it’s poisonous for a while, so let’s wait.”
As he spoke, he guiltily looked away, his tongue darting out to lick his teeth. There was still a lingering, faint sweetness on his palate.
Moments ago, under the guise of “testing” the taro on the chickens, he had slipped into the coop. When no one was looking, he had taken a tiny bite. It was sweet, starchy, and incredibly fragrant.
He wanted to devour the whole thing right then and there. How could something that tasted that good be poison?
Maybe Big Sister is right, he thought. But how on earth did she know?