The foreman’s family engagement fell through, and like wildfire, the news spread through the entire residential compound in no time. The women who already had grudges against Su Yuling seized the opportunity, sneering at her whenever they saw her, mocking that her plan to sell her daughter for money had failed—“losing both daughter and dowry.”
Su Yuling, furious and with no outlet for her anger, vented all of it on Su Wanning.
She stormed into the storage room, slamming a bowl of corn mush onto the floor. The bottom of the bowl struck the ground hard; the yellow mush splattered everywhere, even onto Su Wanning’s pant legs. “Figure it out yet? Don’t think you can scare me with death!” Su Yuling spat, hands on her hips, venom in every word. “I’m telling you, if this family doesn’t work out, there’ll be another! Sooner or later, I’ll marry you off—bring in some dowry to help with the household expenses!”
She stomped her foot in anger, shaking the remaining mush on the floor. “If you dare to act up again, I’ll break your legs and tie you up to send you off! Then you’ll see how it feels!”
Su Wanning stayed curled on the bed, back turned, like a piece of unresponsive wood, too lazy to even move. The old clothes on her were sticky with corn mush, uncomfortable, yet she pretended not to notice, not even shrugging a shoulder.
Su Yuling raged for a full ten minutes, dry-mouthed and hoarse. Seeing Su Wanning remain unresponsive—like punching cotton—the fury in her chest grew heavier. “Ungrateful brat!” she spat, stormed out, and slammed the door behind her with a “bang.”
By the afternoon, Su Wanning stretched her arms and legs, feeling her body restored to nearly full strength, no longer weak and limp. She knew she couldn’t wait any longer. The Youth Work Office had clearly stated that she must report to the train station within two days. Time was pressing.
She pressed her ear to the door, listening until she heard Su Yuling tell Wang Zhenhai she was going to buy some fabric in town to make a new outfit for Wang Qiang. When Su Yuling’s footsteps finally faded into the alley, Su Wanning retrieved the black hairpin from her hair and deftly opened the storage room door.
This time, she didn’t head for the master bedroom. Instead, she went straight to the unassuming old wooden cabinet in the corner of the main hall.
The cabinet had belonged to her father, Su Zhenping. The dark brown wood had dulled over time, covered with jars of various sizes—mostly ceramic containers filled with medicinal herbs. The bottles were sealed, yet a faint herbal scent mixed with the smell of aged wood drifted from them, creating a distinct aroma.
After Su Zhenping passed away, Su Yuling, finding the cabinet unlucky, had wanted to burn it several times. Only Wang Zhenhai’s insistence that it was sturdy enough to store miscellaneous items had saved it from the fire.
Su Wanning ran her fingertips over the cool surface, noting the shallow scratches her father had left. In the original owner’s memory, her father had been a quiet, reserved man, who rarely spoke. His greatest pastime was tending to this cabinet, handling the herbs and roots stored inside. He often told her, “A healer’s heart is compassionate. Even a single withered herb, in the hands of someone who understands it, can become a life-saving medicine.”
At the time, she was too young to understand. She only remembered the rhythmic “thud thud” of him pounding the herbs, which she had found amusing. Now, thinking back, those words were full of his reverence for medicine and gentle love for life.
Her gaze fell on the cabinet’s third drawer. Its handle had long been missing, leaving two dark holes, looking broken and unopenable. Su Yuling and Wang Zhenhai thought the same, so they never touched it, even avoiding it during cleaning.
But Su Wanning knew this was a mechanism her father had deliberately set.
She inserted two fingers into the holes, following the method her father had taught in her memories: first press the left hole, then the right, then press both inward simultaneously. A soft “click” sounded, and the seemingly stuck drawer popped open half an inch.
Inside, there was no gold, silver, or jewels—only a worn leather medicine box. Dark brown, corners frayed, showing the canvas inside, with a few scratches. Ordinary and unassuming, like a worthless trinket.
A memory suddenly flooded Su Wanning’s mind.
Half a month ago, during a spring cleaning, Su Yuling had impatiently yanked open this drawer. She looked at the shabby medicine box with disdain, kicked it lightly, and sneered, “This junk left by that dead man takes up space and is unlucky!”
She even crouched to peek inside: some blackened dried herbs wrapped in oiled paper and a few yellowed thread-bound books, pages brittle. “Pfft, this black stuff won’t even burn properly!” she spat, slamming the lid so hard it almost broke the box. “I’ll get rid of it eventually!”
Junk?
A faint, unexplainable smile curved Su Wanning’s lips—part mockery, part sorrow for her father. She ran her hand over the cool leather surface, feeling the coarse texture under her fingertips. Father, this must be the last and most important legacy you left me.
She lifted the medicine box from the drawer. It was heavier than she expected; she braced herself to hold it securely. Placing it on the floor, she tried to undo the brass latch. Years of disuse had rusted it; twisting it twice didn’t budge it.
Su Wanning pressed her fingertips firmly, held her breath, and pulled hard. “Hiss”—the sharp edge of the brass cut her index finger. A bead of blood welled up and slid down.
She barely flinched, sucking the drop into her mouth and continuing to wrestle with the latch. The droplet not fully absorbed fell silently onto a barely noticeable cloud-shaped carving on the box lid.
The moment the blood touched the carving, something strange happened.
The simple cloud pattern seemed to come alive, flickering with a faint red light, almost imperceptible, vanishing as quickly as it appeared.
Then, Su Wanning felt the world tilt and spin. The scenery stretched and twisted into a chaotic vortex. Her mind went blank, her body pulled by a force she could not resist, plunging into an unknown abyss.
It lasted only a second.
When her vision refocused, she froze.
She was no longer in the familiar dim main hall.
Beneath her feet was vast black soil, soft and fertile, each step leaving a cool imprint. The air smelled of fresh earth and grass, crisp and invigorating; the musty, herbal odors of the hall had vanished.
Nearby stood a rustic stone well, rimmed with bluestone engraved with faint patterns. Wisps of white mist rose from it, floating lightly like gauze.
A short distance away was a small bamboo hut. The bamboo was vibrant green, looking freshly cut. It stood quietly, a string of red wild fruits hanging at the entrance.
The sky was clear blue, sunless yet bright like daytime, with soft, warm light.
Where… was this?
A hallucination?
Instinctively, Su Wanning pinched her arm. Sharp pain confirmed it—this was no dream. It was real.
She stepped hesitantly to the well. The water was clear; pebbles at the bottom visible, mist hovering above. Scooping a handful, she drank. The cool, sweet water exploded on her taste buds, flowing down her throat, filling her with warmth that quickly coursed through her entire body.
The weakness from days of hunger, the lingering effects of the medicine—everything was washed away. Her body had never felt so light, so full of strength. Even the ache in her head from Wang Zhenhai’s slap was barely noticeable.
This water… was miraculous!
Her heartbeat accelerated uncontrollably for the first time, her face a mix of disbelief and awe. She scooped another handful, eyes squinting in pleasure at the sweetness.
Looking out at the endless black soil, fertile and rich, a bold thought sparked in her mind: if she could grow herbs or crops here, she’d never worry about life again.
She willed herself to leave.
The next instant, the scene shifted again. After a dizzying whirl, she was back in the dim hall, holding the half-worn medicine box. Everything looked unchanged.
It was as if the previous moment had been a brief dream.
Yet the strength in her body, the lingering sweetness on her lips, reminded her it was no illusion.
Su Wanning looked down at the medicine box, her expression a complex mix of shock, excitement, and gratitude. Her father had left her more than money, gold, and medical knowledge—he had left a secret that far exceeded her understanding.
Su Wanning took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. Now was not the time to study this mysterious space—she needed to pack up and get ready to leave. Clutching the medicine box tightly to her chest, she briskly made her way to the storage room, all the while listening carefully for any sounds outside, fearful that Su Yuling might suddenly return.
She had to leave this suffocating home as soon as possible and start her own new life. And this mysterious space would become the most powerful support on the road ahead.