Shen Li had no inkling of the dark suspicions swirling in Xiao Erlang’s mind. She simply assumed that after being starved for so long, his stomach couldn’t handle much food yet, so she didn’t press him to eat more.
Noticing that little Sanlang had already finished his bowl of porridge and was eyeing the remaining vegetable buns with longing, she walked over. She sat beside him, pushed her own untouched bowl of porridge toward him, and handed him a bun.
Sanlang kept his head low, peering up at her cautiously. Sensing no immediate threat, he snatched the bun and began stuffing it into his mouth with desperate speed.
The bun was made of extremely coarse flour, and the dry mass caught in his throat. Sanlang’s eyes began to roll back as he choked, his face reddening. Just as he managed to force the mouthful down, Shen Li reached out and took the rest of the bun away.
Sanlang glared at her, his eyes brimming with tears.
I knew it! She isn’t kind at all! That bun had smelled so wonderful, and he’d only had one bite. Bad woman! She’s a wicked woman!
As he wiped away his indignant tears, he realized Shen Li wasn’t eating the bun. Instead, she was breaking it into small, bite-sized pieces and placing them in a clean bowl. She pushed the bowl back to him.
“Eat slowly,” Shen Li said, her voice steady and calm. “Don’t rush.”
Sanlang picked up a small piece. As he chewed, the tears he had been holding back began to overflow. His lower lip trembled, and suddenly, he let out a loud, wailing sob.
In his short life, no one except his brother had ever cared for him like this. Ever since his brother fell ill, the world had been a cold, cruel place.
Shen Li stared at the sobbing child, her mind going completely blank. How do I fix this? How do you comfort a crying child?
She cast a helpless glance back at Xiao Erlang. She couldn’t exactly cover the boy’s mouth to stop the noise—not with his brother watching.
Because her back was to the bed, Erlang couldn’t see what was happening. He only heard Sanlang’s heartbroken cries and saw the panicked, “guilty” look Shen Li shot over her shoulder.
She must be hurting him! In the past, she would hit or scold Sanlang at the slightest provocation—pinching him, slapping him, or whipping him with willow branches.
Erlang grew desperate. Unable to speak, he used every ounce of his strength to struggle against the bedding, determined to stop her. He glanced at the floor. If I fall, she’ll come for me. Usually, when Shen Li saw him struggling, she would leave Sanlang alone just for the pleasure of turning her cruelty on him instead.
With a sharp grunt of effort, he lurched his body sideways. Gravity did the rest, and he tumbled straight off the bed and onto the floor with a heavy thud.
The sound made Shen Li jump. She spun around and gasped, seeing Xiao Erlang sprawled on the ground. She was across the room in three strides, scooping him up in her arms and settling him back onto the bed, tucking him further toward the wall so he wouldn’t fall again.
Mindful of the pressure sores on his back, she gently turned him onto his side, using a second quilt to prop his body up and cushion the wounds.
Sanlang stopped crying mid-sob and scrambled onto the bed to hover over his brother. Despite the throbbing pain where his bones had hit the hard floor, Erlang ignored his own injuries, frantically checking Sanlang for bruises or welts.
He found nothing. This woman! He thought bitterly. She’s learned to strike where it doesn’t show!
“It seems you aren’t ready to sit up for long yet,” Shen Li muttered to herself. She lifted his arm, carefully checking for scrapes from the fall.
Finding no injuries on his arms, she moved to check if he had hit his head. As she looked up, her gaze crashed directly into Erlang’s—which was burning with pure, unadulterated fury.
Shen Li froze. “What’s wrong? Why are you so angry?”
Sanlang knew his brother well. He realized that look meant Erlang thought Shen Li had been bullying him.
“Brother… Sister-in-law didn’t hurt me,” Sanlang blurted out. “Sister-in-law… she broke the bun into little pieces because she was afraid I would choke…”
As he spoke, the dam broke again. The year of misery and fear he had endured finally exploded, and Sanlang dissolved into a fresh fit of hysterical weeping.
The words hit Xiao Erlang like a bucket of ice water over a fire. He went rigid, staring blankly at the sobbing child.
Sanlang… called her ‘Sister-in-law’…
He shifted his gaze to Shen Li. She was no longer looking at him; her entire attention was fixed on the wailing boy. Though her face remained largely expressionless, her eyes were wide with a look of utter helplessness. Her hands hovered in mid-air, twitching as if she didn’t know where to put them.
Shen Li racked her brain, trying to remember her own childhood. Back when she was a stray, before her Master had brought her into the Organization, how had he comforted her when she cried?
She took a deep breath, reached out, and placed a hand on Sanlang’s head. She pulled the boy against her chest, patting his back awkwardly.
“Don’t cry,” she whispered, her voice a bit stiff. “Good boy.”
To her horror, Sanlang began to cry even louder, the sound ringing in her ears. She was genuinely shocked that such a small human could produce such a high-decibel noise. She began to seriously doubt whether her Master’s comforting techniques were flawed.
Watching her, Erlang saw her look of genuine confusion and surprise for the first time. He couldn’t help but study her intently.
Shen Li, still struggling to figure out the “child-handling” mystery, suddenly caught Erlang’s gaze. His eyes—those beautiful, deep eyes—were no longer filled with rage. Instead, they were watching her with a slow, searching curiosity.
A sudden wave of heat rushed to her face. Her heart skipped a beat. She let out a sharp, dry cough and bolted upright, scooping Sanlang up and marching toward the door.
I am a twenty-year-old woman who has been single my entire life, she scolded herself. How am I blushing at a guy younger than me?!
In her fluster, her body instinctively figured out how to hold the child. Sanlang stopped crying and went limp against her shoulder, his head tucked into the crook of her neck. He wrapped his tiny arms around her, clinging like a sleepy kitten.
It had been so long since anyone had held him like this. In this moment, he felt like the luckiest child in the world. As Shen Li swayed gently, he felt a sense of peace he had forgotten existed.
Back in the room, Erlang stared at the door. The flash of pink on the tips of Shen Li’s ears had not escaped him.
She was embarrassed? A ghost of a smile touched his lips, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.
Why is she being so good to Sanlang? Is she trying to make him obedient so he’s easier to sell?
Shen Li walked through the courtyard for a while until she realized the boy had gone silent. When she looked down, she found he was sound asleep.
With a long sigh of relief, she stepped back into the side wing. To her surprise, Xiao Erlang had fallen asleep as well. Perhaps the constant torment from the “original” Shen Li had left them both perpetually exhausted. Now that they were full and the immediate threat of violence seemed to have paused, their bodies had finally given in to the need for rest.
She laid Sanlang gently beside his brother, rolled up a quilt to act as a safety barrier at the edge of the bed, and quietly slipped out. She had work to do down the hill.