Su Muyao squatted on the ground, digging away with great effort. After climbing down from the tree, Su Sanlang saw the little girl not far off, crouched there, tirelessly scraping at the dirt.
The small tuft of hair on her head bounced as she moved—adorably so.
“Sweetheart, what are you doing?”
“Father, come help me dig this out!”
Su Sanlang didn’t recognize what it was, but since his daughter liked it, he decided to help her dig it up anyway.
“Hey, father—be careful! Don’t damage the roots. Dig around the sides!”
“Alright, alright.”
After nearly half a quarter of an hour, the two of them finally unearthed the ginseng.
Su Sanlang had originally planned to gather some wild vegetables, but his little daughter insisted on digging up these “inedible weeds.” He had no choice but to go along with her.
When they returned home, the family saw that they had brought back a bundle of unfamiliar plants. They simply assumed their precious little girl wanted to play and didn’t pay much attention.
But Su Muyao had something else in mind—she wanted to surprise the family. She began processing and drying the herbs, skills she had learned online before coming here.
“Sweetheart, you must be tired. It’s time for your nap.”
Grandma Su wiped the dirt off her forehead. “Look at you—you’re like a little kitten now.”
The chubby little girl flashed a bright smile at her grandmother, then washed her hands and face before bouncing back to her room.
Since arriving here, she had developed the habit of taking afternoon naps.
Lying on the bed, however, Su Muyao couldn’t fall asleep. She looked around the room: mud-plastered walls, a dirt floor, a thatched roof letting in drafts from all sides. She sighed.
Before, she couldn’t even speak, so she had no way to change her situation. But now things are different.
She began making plans—sell medicinal herbs, save money, send her brothers to school, then start a business, earn more, and build a new house.
Just as she was drifting off, she was startled awake by loud shouting outside.
The sound of a gong rang out. Rubbing her eyes, she went out and saw someone summoning Old Master Su to a meeting.
“The village chief requests one person from each household to attend!”
“Alright, coming!” Old Master Su said, slipping on his shoes as he headed out.
But just as he reached the door, a soft, sweet voice stopped him.
“Grandpa, I want to go too.”
Seeing his little granddaughter awake, he quickly picked her up and carried her along.
“Be good, sweetheart. The village chief is going to speak. Stay quietly in my arms—no running around, understand?”
Su Muyao nodded, though she thought to herself: I’m not really a child—I won’t run around. Besides, I’ve always been well-behaved.
…
When most of the villagers had gathered, the village chief finally began.
“Everyone, I’ve just returned from town. There are two important matters to announce.”
The crowd buzzed with speculation.
“Quiet down and listen. The authorities have issued a notice: this year’s taxes will increase by twenty percent. Any household that cannot pay in grain will have its men conscripted for labor and military service.”
The moment the news was announced, groans filled the crowd.
Three years ago, a severe drought had dried up the rivers. People had survived by eating tree bark and wild plants. Only last year had things begun to improve slightly, with some harvest finally coming in.
And now, taxes were being raised again.
This was no different from condemning them to starvation.
“Damn that emperor—he’s not letting us live!” one man blurted out, then quickly covered his mouth.
“Watch your words!” the village chief snapped. “How dare a commoner speak of the emperor like that? If someone hears you, you could lose your head!”
He calmed himself and continued:
“Our emperor cares for the people. The notice says that those conscripted will at least be fed. That’s some small consolation.”
“With war at the borders, if none of us go, then who will fight the invaders?”
The villagers fell silent. It was true—those conscripted would be sent to battle.
And that was exactly why they didn’t want their husbands or sons to go.
Cradled in her grandfather’s arms, Su Muyao listened quietly.
If no one goes, what happens when the enemy attacks? she thought.
Then the village chief delivered another piece of grim news.
“Grain prices in the city are rising.”
“We advise anyone with money to buy grain while they can. Once taxes are paid, there may be nothing left to eat.”
After the drought, most families had already spent nearly all their savings. What little they had now was barely enough.
“That’s all. Go home and discuss with your families.”
The crowd dispersed slowly.
Old Master Su carried his granddaughter home, sighing heavily.
“What’s going on?” his wife asked.
“Sigh… It’s going to be another hard year. The court is raising taxes by twenty percent.”
“What? Twenty percent? Are they trying to leave us with no way to survive?”
“Keep your voice down!”
“But what are we supposed to do? The crops might not even be enough to cover the taxes—they’re growing so poorly.”
Su Muyao widened her eyes.
Wait… did I hear that wrong? Isn’t the tax supposed to be a percentage of the harvest?
Clearly, it wasn’t that simple.
Seeing the elderly couple distressed, she didn’t want to trouble them further. Instead, she quietly went outside to tend to her herbs.