“You wretched brat, I told you not to eat! Not to eat!
You stuff anything into your mouth. How dare you eat something as precious as a corncake!”
Li Zhaodi gripped a wooden stick as thick as a wrist and brought it down again and again on the little girl lying on the ground, sobbing weakly.
Little Ya lay there, trembling and choking back tears. “Mother, it wasn’t me who ate it.
Mother, please don’t hit me. I’ll do more work. Please don’t be angry.”
Hearing her words only made Li Zhaodi angrier. “What work can you possibly do? When I tell you to wash the dishes, you either break them or don’t clean them properly. When you wash clothes, you even let them float away. What use are you?”
She was shaking with rage, her blows growing heavier and heavier, completely disregarding the fact that the child under her stick was only three years old.
The little girl was beaten until she was barely breathing, yet her eyes still tried desperately to please her mother. “Mother, it really wasn’t me. It was Bao’er! I saw him holding the cake and eating it.”
Hearing this wretched girl refuse to admit her fault—and even daring to accuse her precious Bao’er—Li Zhaodi kicked Little Ya hard in the stomach.
“You stole food and still dare to blame Bao’er?”
Everything in this house belongs to him. Why would he need to steal? Hmph!
What time do you think this is? People are on the brink of starving to death. You feel hungry—don’t others feel hungry too?
If you eat it, what about your younger brother? Do you want him to starve?
The whole family hasn’t eaten, yet you’re the only greedy one!”
Li Zhaodi continued cursing when Wang Cuihua came out of the house.
She glanced at Little Ya but said nothing.
Little Ya raised her arm and called out weakly, “Grandma, I didn’t steal it.”
As soon as she finished speaking, the onlookers suddenly sensed something was wrong.
After the kick to her stomach, the little girl began trembling uncontrollably. After uttering those last words, she seemed to faint and lay completely still.
One man asked, “From the Wang family, aren’t you being too harsh? The child looks like she’s not breathing.”
Li Zhaodi snorted. “Good if she’s not breathing. That’s one less mouth to feed! I must have the worst luck in eight lifetimes to end up with such a greedy and useless money-losing girl.”
At those words, the little girl on the ground struggled to open her eyes, managing only the tiniest slit.
She took one last look at her birth mother, then her head tilted to the side—and she stopped breathing.
The villagers watching couldn’t bear it anymore. One by one, they stepped forward to speak up for Little Ya. One auntie sensed something wrong, leaned down to check her breathing, and then cried out loudly:
“Oh my! She’s not breathing! She’s been beaten to death!”
Hearing this, Li Zhaodi dropped the wooden stick with a clatter. She hurried forward to check the child’s breath herself. There was none. She staggered back in fright.
At that moment, Wang Cuihua stepped in to smooth things over. Looking at the villagers, she said, “Alright, alright. Little Ya is just asleep. How could she not be breathing? Go back to your homes. What are you all doing crowding in front of my courtyard?”
In these times, with drought everywhere and corpses strewn about, the authorities wouldn’t bother with such trivial matters.
Just then, Ye Sanlang finally squeezed through the crowd. Seeing the small child lying motionless on the ground, he was confused.
He asked an old man beside him, “What happened?”
Ye Sanlang had come with his wife to visit her maiden family. Hearing the commotion in the village, he had come to see what was going on. It had taken him a long time to push through the crowd.
The old man recognized him as the husband of one of the Wang daughters who had married out and pointed at the child on the ground with a sigh.
“That child stole half a corncake. A perfectly good little one beaten to death just like that. What a pity…”
Before he could finish, Wang Cuihua shot him a fierce glare, and he immediately shut his mouth.
Wang Cuihua was notoriously difficult in the village. She herself had once married out, but after only a few years her husband died of illness. Her in-laws considered her unlucky and drove her and her orphaned son back. Yet she was capable—despite being sent back, she raised her two sons to adulthood and even married them off. Her temperament was famously troublesome; villagers would go out of their way to avoid her.
When Ye Sanlang looked at the little girl, he suddenly noticed her finger twitch.
He hurried over and checked her breath—she was clearly still breathing.
Looking at Li Zhaodi, he said, “Your child still has a breath left. Hurry and take her to the clinic to see a doctor. With some treatment, she might recover.”
Hearing that Little Ya wasn’t dead yet, the surrounding villagers finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Though the child had never interacted with them much—always walking with her head lowered—they all knew she had never been favored since birth. Li Zhaodi had never truly treated her as her own flesh and blood.
Seeing that Li Zhaodi and the others weren’t moving, Ye Sanlang picked up the little girl. “Let’s go! If we wait any longer, she really will die.”
Li Zhaodi spread her hands. “Well, if it isn’t the son-in-law from the neighboring village. What, can’t you afford food at home again? Back here to freeload? You can meddle in your wife’s family affairs all you want, but my family’s business is none of yours.”
Through clenched teeth, Ye Sanlang said, “No matter what, she’s your own child. Just because of a single cake, would you really beat her to death?”
Li Zhaodi covered her mouth and laughed lightly. “You’re quite the living Bodhisattva, aren’t you? Since you think the cake is worthless, then give me the corncake that wretched girl ate.”
Ye Sanlang nodded heavily. “It’s just one corncake. I’ll go home and bring you one, alright? Now quickly take the child to see a doctor.”
At first, Li Zhaodi had been slightly shocked to hear that Little Ya might be dead. But on second thought, if she died, so be it. That would save a portion of food. Back then, if the child hadn’t been born pretty and fair and plump, she might have drowned her in the chamber pot long ago.
As Li Zhaodi turned to go back inside, Ye Sanlang blocked her path. “Hurry and take the child to be seen. If we’re any later, she truly won’t survive.”
He repeated this insistently.
Li Zhaodi wished she could punch him twice. “What business is it of an outsider like you? Get lost! You said one cake—do you think it’s just any cake? It was made from our own cornmeal, specially kept for Bao’er. How could this money-losing girl be worthy of eating it?
If she’s dead, fine. But now she’s barely clinging to life—what a jinx.
Go on, go on. If you like little girls so much, just take her with you.”
Ye Sanlang naturally wouldn’t take the child home.
Though his family had always longed for a daughter, they themselves barely had enough to eat. How could they bring another mouth to feed? And seeing how gravely injured she was, she clearly needed to see a doctor first.
When Li Zhaodi saw that Ye Sanlang said nothing, she sneered.
“Hah. I thought you were truly a living Bodhisattva come to earth. Turns out you’re just all talk.”