Shen Li strode back toward the shack and kicked the door open. Dust and straw flew into the air, and the stench billowing from within made her stomach turn all over again.
Steeling herself against the nausea, she squinted and stepped inside.
It was a stable converted into a room—if you could call it that. It was cluttered with rusted farming tools and heaps of junk that had long since rotted but were apparently too “precious” to throw away. The air was thick with the smell of damp earth, mildew, and that same sharp, human decay.
In the back stood a bed. It was surprisingly large, though crudely assembled from flat stones and jagged wooden planks. It was topped with a thick layer of straw and a single sheet of coarse hemp, so riddled with holes it looked like a net.
As she moved closer, a high, piping voice rang out: “You bad woman! Don’t you touch my brother!”
Shen Li froze. She tilted her head, peering into the shadows of the wooden bed.
Tucked into a dark corner was something that looked like a bundle of dry twigs. It was kneeling there, feebly waving a small stick.
A bundle of sticks that talks? Shen Li reflexively pinched her own arm. Ow. It was real.
She forced her eyes to focus on the “twigs” and realized it was a child, appearing to be no more than two or three years old.
A child? Was he here when I woke up?
The boy was skeletal. His skin was dark and leathery, his lips parched and white, and his eyes were sunken deep into his skull. He looked like he hadn’t seen a real meal in months. Yet, despite his frailty, he knit his tiny brows in a scowl, swinging his stick with every ounce of strength he possessed.
“Go away! Bad woman! Leave my brother alone!”
Brother? Bad woman? Shen Li peered past him. Underneath a thin, heavily patched sheet lay a large lump. Only the back of a head was visible—a mess of long hair matted with straw. The closer she got, the more overpowering the stench became. A low, rhythmic moaning drifted from the heap.
So… that was a human being.
Shen Li opened her mouth to ask what was going on, but her gaze caught the boy’s. His eyes were wide with a fierce, trembling defiance.
She let out a cold, dry snort. Why bother sticking her nose into someone else’s family drama?
With an expressionless shrug, Shen Li turned on her heel and walked out.
“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?!” Madam Cao saw Shen Li heading for the gate and went charging after her. She had paid a whole silver tael to the human trafficker for this brat!
In her mind, the plan was perfect. Second Son Xiao didn’t have many days left to live, and he certainly wasn’t capable of… that anymore. By marrying this girl off to the dying man, the family kept their reputation in the village. Then, once the invalid kicked the bucket, she’d have a “pure” girl ready to be passed on to her own son as a wife. It was a flawless bargain.
“You aren’t allowed to leave!” When Shen Li ignored her, Madam Cao lunged forward and grabbed a fistful of her tunic.
“I paid a silver tael for you! You belong to me, and you’ll do what I say!” the woman hissed, sounding as though that single silver coin had been carved directly from her own heart.
“Noisy,” Shen Li muttered.
She wrenched her clothes from the woman’s grip and delivered a lightning-fast roundhouse kick. Madam Cao’s bloated frame went airborne, slammed into a heavy iron plow, and rolled across the dirt.
The woman was practically dripping with grease, while that little boy inside was a walking skeleton. Clearly, she wasn’t a good person. Shen Li considered the kick a free favor to the “kid-stick” inside.
With a pathetic oww, Madam Cao sprawled on the ground, retching. She looked like she was about to vomit up every drop of water she’d swallowed that morning.
“What’s all the racket? Can’t a man get some sleep?!”
A man emerged from the brick house, rubbing his eyes. He had a scruffy beard and small, shifty rat-eyes. Unlike the gaunt, yellow-skinned villagers, this man took after his mother—he had a protruding gut, a double chin, and a belt that looked like it was screaming for mercy.
“Mother! Mother, why are you on the ground?” the man cried, rushing to help her up.
Madam Cao wheezed, pointing a trembling finger at Shen Li. “Huai-ren! This… this little bitch… tie her up! She dared to hit me! Tie her up!”
Cao Huai-ren looked at Shen Li and, without a word, charged. He reached out with a meaty hand, aiming to seize her by the throat.
The villagers perched on the wall, watching the spectacle, held their collective breath for the girl. Shen Li caught their movement out of the corner of her eye and felt a phantom twitch in her brow. Are the people in this world even colder than me? Is no one going to step in and help this man?
That was her genuine thought: No one is going to help this poor man?
She spun on her heel, her foot connecting with his chest. Just like his mother, the man flew backward like a sack of wet flour, crashing directly into the large water vat.
The sound of his wail was punctuated by the sharp crack of the ceramic vat shattering.
Shen Li gave one last, disinterested glance toward the rotting shack, then turned and walked out of the courtyard.
The villagers atop the wall watched in stunned silence as she disappeared down the road toward the great mountains at the edge of the village.